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"cheerleaders" poems
We were teammates We suited up We showed up We weren't stars But we rolled in the dirt With the best of them Our blood ran red Like the rest of them Our sweat tasted salty As the most athletic of them Wounds and bruises Ached like the most Stalwart of them We were Bulldogs! We anted up our Gifts and talents to Forge a winning season A flair for humor Wry observation, Encouragement, fortitude And intelligence were as Valuable as speed, Agility and strength We all pined for the Affection of cheerleaders, Bandmembers and the Adoration of fans We equally joined In the chorus of locker room banter And honored the Confidence of camaraderie Such intimacy bares We endured thankless Adversity, while wending through anonymous toil As brothers We grudgingly drank From the vile cup of defeat And passed the chalice Of victory among us To share the savory Taste of triumph As champions The Duke of Wellington Said “the battle of Waterloo Was won on the fields of Eton” I trust my teammates and Not forgotten friends Tasted sweet victories of Happiness and success As they coursed through Their prodigious fields of life And at games end I hope their heart swelled With pride to know they were A beloved and Valiant Bulldog David Irving Korsh #75 BCSL Champion 1973 Rutherford Bulldogs Well done Valiant Bulldog God bless and Godspeed Music Selection: Bruce Springsteen Thunder Road 5/5/18 Puyallup jbm
0
Aug 2, 2018
Aug 2, 2018 at 2:58 PM UTC
Valiant Bulldog
football is fun football is great, pads and pants geting ready, for the big game,waiting ,thinking finnaly  time for the game, cheerleaders cheering,fans screaming, kickoff is hear now as he kicks it, its in the air, i tackel him to the groud we start on defense maby will win we will try
0
Oct 10, 2010
Oct 10, 2010 at 1:18 PM UTC
football
God before we compete today, we come together as a team to pray. Please watch over us from music start to finish, it wont take that long just about three minutes. God, all we really want is some help to succeed, so here's a little list of the things that we need: We pray for.. Stunts that are solid and tight. Arms that remain by our side. Flyers that are confident. High "V's" that are never bent. Cradles that are caught up high. pointed jumps that truly fly. Tosses that soar through the air. Judges that are knowledgeable and fair. Spacing that is on the money. ENERGY THATS LIKE THE BUNNY! Motions that are sharp and snap. A loud crowd that likes to clap. Voices that deeply shout. Thumbs that do not stick out. No bumps that happen while we're passing. SMILES THAT ARE EVERLASTING! Endurance that keeps us strong. Teamwork that cant go wrong. But mostly God, we'd like to have A routine that is injury free. And if you see it in your heart A FIRST PLACE TROPHY FOR MY TEAM AND ME! So God, when your work is done, And your no longer needed here, just take this little thought with you Amen.
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Sep 26, 2014
Sep 26, 2014 at 1:44 AM UTC
A Cheerleaders Prayer
You! You are imperfect! (surprise) You you you and you. Every single one of you cheerleaders. Every princess and every nerd. All the little muscles and big muscles. The mothers and fathers and lovers and celebrities and billionaires and actresses and models, too! Every single human on this earth is imperfect. But guess what?! That's what makes us, us. You. Me. All of us together in one jumbo mess of oceans and ethnicities. It's beautiful and ugly and difficult and spectacular all in one breath. So stop hating your imperfections and your "almost there" 's. We have them for a reason. Flaunt that imperfection, babe.
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Feb 9, 2013
Feb 9, 2013 at 4:43 PM UTC
Imperfection.
There are hundreds of stereotypes. In my opinion, the most true one is about cheerleaders. Honestly, every cheerleader I have ever met is a ***** They will tear you down to where you're nothing and you hate yourself. I have had a bad experience with a cheerleader. The reason she got mad at me was because I ACCIDENTALLY stepped on the back of her flip flop. I apologized but she didn't care and gave me a ***** look. Luckily, I have a pretty good friend in that class and he kind of stuck up for me and called her a name. She definitely lived up to that stereotype though. Maybe it's just pointless high school ******** I don't know. I ******* hate her.
0
May 29, 2015
May 29, 2015 at 11:50 AM UTC
Stereotypes
If Nigeria was a book, It will be as big as an oxford English dictionary Cause, our problems alone will be too many to write down There won’t be any table of contents Just like that old song goes, “everywhere jaga jaga”. If Nigeria was a book, Readers will never be leaders Instead, they become cheerleaders when it’s election season flaunting brooms and umbrellas over their heads. If Nigeria was a book, The book itself will be imported Each word will be written in red If you get to read in between the lines you will find corruption on every single page. If Nigeria was a book, You wouldn’t want to read it, you would say “nothing come out” But yet The book defines us It is our home It is our pride Our remedy is still in the book. Fortune Maine
0
Nov 23, 2018
Nov 23, 2018 at 7:11 AM UTC
IF NIGERIA WAS A BOOK
I ain’t got no intimate, ain’t got no stiletto heels Ain’t got no Lsd, ain’t got no smack Ain’t got no partners, ain’t got no drill Ain’t got no slapstick, ain’t got no hanky—panky Ain’t got no Lsd, no slot to mount Ain’t got no castrato, ain’t got no crumpet Ain’t got no conjoined twins, ain’t got no nuns or eunuchs Ain’t got no whipcord, ain’t got no adoration Ain’t got no ******** ain’t got no stimulant Ain’t got no ****** Ain’t got no oscillation, no shags No uniform, no parts No smack, no drill No partners, no peccadillo Ain’t got no stimulant Ain’t got no whipcord, no propagators No titbits, no intimate I jabbered, I ain’t got no uniform, no hanky—panky No peccadillo, ain’t copulated till one is blue in the face to have a funny feeling And I ain’t got no ****** Oh, but what have I copulated, oh, what have I copulated Let me tell what I copulated and nobody’s going to enlarge telescopic I got my ***** on my face My extra—sensory perceptions, my knobs My ****** peckers and my ******** I got my stuck—out tongue I got my tentacle, my proboscis My ***** my ******* My thingummies, my cockles of the heart and my posterior I got my *********** I got my thingummies, my talons My ball and socket joints, my forelegs My hooves, my pincers and my snorker Got my crest I got ***** I’ve inseminated cheerleaders I’ve got bottomgremlins and hacksawhoodoo And Mephistophelian juggernauts too like you I got my ***** my pistil My ESP, my knobs My vaginas, my peckers and my ******** I got my stuck-out tongue I got my tentacle, my proboscis My ***** and my ******* My ***** my ***** and my posterior I inseminated my ****** sorbet I got my thingummies, my talons My ball and socket joints, my forelegs My hooves, my pincers and my snorker Got my crest I got my ***** I got my slipperiness, my ***** I got *****
0
Mar 23, 2010
Mar 23, 2010 at 4:29 PM UTC
Ain't Got No – I Got *****
I ain’t got no intimate, ain’t got no stiletto heels Ain’t got no Lsd, ain’t got no smack Ain’t got no partners, ain’t got no drill Ain’t got no slapstick, ain’t got no hanky—panky Ain’t got no Lsd, no slot to mount Ain’t got no castrato, ain’t got no crumpet Ain’t got no conjoined twins, ain’t got no nuns or eunuchs Ain’t got no whipcord, ain’t got no adoration Ain’t got no ******** ain’t got no stimulant Ain’t got no ****** Ain’t got no oscillation, no shags No uniform, no parts No smack, no drill No partners, no peccadillo Ain’t got no stimulant Ain’t got no whipcord, no propagators No titbits, no intimate I jabbered, I ain’t got no uniform, no hanky—panky No peccadillo, ain’t copulated till one is blue in the face to have a funny feeling And I ain’t got no ****** Oh, but what have I copulated, oh, what have I copulated Let me tell what I copulated and nobody’s going to enlarge telescopic I got my ***** on my face My extra—sensory perceptions, my knobs My ****** peckers and my ******** I got my stuck—out tongue I got my tentacle, my proboscis My ***** my ******* My thingummies, my cockles of the heart and my posterior I got my *********** I got my thingummies, my talons My ball and socket joints, my forelegs My hooves, my pincers and my snorker Got my crest I got ***** I’ve inseminated cheerleaders I’ve got bottomgremlins and hacksawhoodoo And Mephistophelian juggernauts too like you I got my ***** my pistil My ESP, my knobs My vaginas, my peckers and my ******** I got my stuck-out tongue I got my tentacle, my proboscis My ***** and my ******* My ***** my ***** and my posterior I inseminated my ****** sorbet I got my thingummies, my talons My ball and socket joints, my forelegs My hooves, my pincers and my snorker Got my crest I got my ***** I got my slipperiness, my ***** I got *****
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51
embrace it become insane *Save the Earth, **** the Cheerleaders Save the Earth, **** the Cheerleaders Save the Earth, **** the Cheerleaders* The world will survive *Save the Earth, **** the Cheerleaders Save the Earth, **** the Cheerleaders Save the Earth, **** the Cheerleaders* Evolutionary you see yes no yes yes no yes *Save the Earth, **** the Cheerleaders Save the Earth, **** the Cheerleaders Save the Earth, **** the Cheerleaders* Kissy'n Girl -IBᵢd no? <> The solution to overpopulation is here; abandon morality. Save the Earth by letting loose humanity, if it feels good? if it makes money? if it makes banks money, wall street share hold it then.
0
Feb 18, 2018
Feb 18, 2018 at 12:03 AM UTC
The Inner King,
Why am I so attracted to you I've never thought the the cheerleaders or popular girls were attractive I think a person with depth and flaws is beautiful People with substance attract me People who are passionate about life and not so caught up in this egotistical world that we all find ourselves drowning in attract me To me, finding an emotional connection is far more valuable than a simple physical attraction Intrigue me with your thoughts and you can have my body There is such a discrete difference between attraction and connection Don't be so easily fooled by what catches your eye because beyond a pretty face may lie an ugly soul But if you want to talk attraction then explain to me how a bland mind is so attractive Tell me about the conversations that you carry with this person Are the meaningful? Do they mean anything at all? I want someone who will tell me about their scars and where they come from I want that emotional connection that is so rare to find these days
0
Sep 23, 2013
Sep 23, 2013 at 12:22 PM UTC
Attraction
I used to be unique. Kool-Aid hair dye and all. Boys wrote my name on bathrooms stalls. I swore at teachers. I drank ***** behind the bleachers. I puked at football games on cheerleaders. I had black eyes and cigarette burns and soccer thighs. I used to wear my shirt undone. I used to have fun. Now I own a 6-room house, a 4-door car, a water-dispensing fridge, bell jars. Also, religion, caffeine addiction, magazine subscriptions, diazepam prescriptions, goldfish, 900 pairs of shoes, PVA glue, a self-inflicted curfew, sexually transmitted virtue, and many, many cats. All this between walls painted in 6 muted shades of deja-vu from whence I commence my pin-cushion voodoo. I sleep in pajamas. I set an alarm clock and my snooze allowance never exceeds 4 minutes. I spend my mornings yawning through thick oatmeal, ********** in the dark. I work in a bank in an office on a phone, making friends with dead ends. I come home to wash, rinse, and repeat, undress in the dark, and brush away the question marks of hair in the bathtub.
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Sep 17, 2012
Sep 17, 2012 at 7:49 AM UTC
I used to be unique
Waves crash over The coral in the sea Everyone sees the beauty But doesn't realize They're alive They are the homes of fish Sometimes fish leave and never Come back And sometimes they leave for a Couple years and come back In a way people are like fish They leave forever or vanish for a little while The coral, the homes, They are the beautiful people No, not the models, the cheerleaders, no The beautiful are the ones hurting The ones others call weak, When they're stronger than most The beautiful are the ones Who do their best to look like the models When they don't need to The beautiful are the ones with Scars on their thighs, wrists, ankles, stomach Which one am I? I'm one of the beautiful I'm not being prideful or anything   I have proof And it's not fake believe me There's things that qualify you As being a beautiful one As one of us.
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Jul 27, 2018
Jul 27, 2018 at 1:17 PM UTC
The Beautiful Ones By:Sunset
This Prince was handsome to the extreme. He had definite movie star looks That is if movies had been invented back all those centuries ago. She was the most beautiful princess in all the kingdom. He could not think of anything other but to make her his bride. So he set forth on his quest of the heart. But when he rode up to her castle though the haunted forest of whispers. across the river of doom and the desert of the dragons. he arrived at her door and proposed marriage to her she said No way! Apparently, she hated men and in fact, had a strong penchant for girls herself. Not one to dwell on the mysteries of a woman's heart, the prince said to himself fucketh her. And he turned to a life of bachelorhood. Never ever to marry. He bought a Harley Chopper Dated pretty cheerleaders and slim models with full bosoms. And he never once caught his wife in bed with some guy like his married friends did. when he got home unexpectldy all was as it should be, He took up hunting and fishing with his buddies. raced sports cars at high speed. spending lonely nights at ***** bars drinking double malt whiskey and the finest flagons of ale. he never heard of ******** or a ******* honey-do list. Nor did he ever get hit for child support or alimony. He kept his castle and his beloved gun collection And was as rich as blazes. HE lived on a diet of fried food bacon and eggs with sausages and beans Hot chicken wings and tacos. snacking on potato chips and gassy pop. a diet that caused him to blow enormous loud farts which made him a revered legend amongst his cronies. who all thought he was as cool as hell. He had loads of money in the bank And not once in his life did he ever put the toilet seat down. And he lived happily ever after The End Goodnight Children all go. To sleep Sweet dreams.
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Jul 25, 2018
Jul 25, 2018 at 4:23 AM UTC
The single prince ...a fairy tale for adults
This Prince was handsome to the extreme. He had definite movie star looks That is if movies had been invented back all those centuries ago. She was the most beautiful princess in all the kingdom. He could not think of anything other but to make her his bride. So he set forth on his quest of the heart. But when he rode up to her castle though the haunted forest of whispers. across the river of doom and the desert of the dragons. he arrived at her door and proposed marriage to her she said No way! Apparently, she hated men and in fact, had a strong penchant for girls herself. Not one to dwell on the mysteries of a woman's heart, the prince said to himself fucketh her. And he turned to a life of bachelorhood. Never ever to marry. He bought a Harley Chopper Dated pretty cheerleaders and slim models with full bosoms. And he never once caught his wife in bed with some guy like his married friends did. when he got home unexpectldy all was as it should be, He took up hunting and fishing with his buddies. raced sports cars at high speed. spending lonely nights at ***** bars drinking double malt whiskey and the finest flagons of ale. he never heard of ******** or a ******* honey-do list. Nor did he ever get hit for child support or alimony. He kept his castle and his beloved gun collection And was as rich as blazes. HE lived on a diet of fried food bacon and eggs with sausages and beans Hot chicken wings and tacos. snacking on potato chips and gassy pop. a diet that caused him to blow enormous loud farts which made him a revered legend amongst his cronies. who all thought he was as cool as hell. He had loads of money in the bank And not once in his life did he ever put the toilet seat down. And he lived happily ever after The End Goodnight Children all go. To sleep Sweet dreams.
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62
Hers was the first face I found freshman year at FSU. I'll always remember that garish orange and green gator shirt, and pin with the picture of a bulldog, hanging from a noose. I thought, oh Jeez, she's got school spirit, and I shuddered at the image, of cheerleaders, and sports stars, recieving preferential treatment, but my first impression was far from the mark. She had a smile for miles and eyes to match. And a laugh that could shatter a frown. And she laughed any chance she got. The few pictures I have left of her, she is laughing and smiling in each... That big toothy smile, and that magical laugh... I remember the first time she kissed me. I was playing my guitar on campus, back when everybody did it, not just pretentious ********** trying to show off. She came up behind me, and did the old hands over the eyes routine, and of course I knew her voice immediately. She turned my head and kissed me, for the first time, and I could hear the whispering, and feel everyone's eyes on me, and it felt pretty **** good. How I wished someone had snapped a picture, for the FSView, with the caption " Future valedictorian kisses scruffy hippy freshman. Entire student body baffled." I was baffled. She was the talk of the campus, she spoke her mind always, and she was active all over the campus, doing this and that. I asked her one day, "Why do you make your life so complex, when do you rest?" and she said "My life used to be complex, because I made it that way. But believe it or not, with all I do around campus, really my life is simple and fun. If I didn't love what I am doing I would stop Will. Life is too short for complexity." I laughed, and I thought to myself, this woman is more complex than she lets on. We went out for my entire freshman year, but she graduated my sophmore year, and she got a job in London, and she moved away that summer. I said I would visit...I never did.. She said she would write...she did, once, to tell me she was getting married, she even invited me, but of course I didn't go.. She enclosed a photo of her and her fiance, and it was clear what she saw in him.. he had a smile almost as big as hers, and of course she was smiling too.. Of all the images burned into my memory that picture is the one that hurts me most. I wrote back, wishing her luck, and I told her I couldn't come, I never heard from her again, but I prayed that night, that he would treat her right, and if he took away her smile, I prayed he would suffer, until he put it back. Every time I close my eyes, I see that picture... that smile... I hope she's smiling, even as I write these words.
0
Aug 30, 2012
Aug 30, 2012 at 10:11 AM UTC
Even As I Write These Words
Hers was the first face I found freshman year at FSU. I'll always remember that garish orange and green gator shirt, and pin with the picture of a bulldog, hanging from a noose. I thought, oh Jeez, she's got school spirit, and I shuddered at the image, of cheerleaders, and sports stars, recieving preferential treatment, but my first impression was far from the mark. She had a smile for miles and eyes to match. And a laugh that could shatter a frown. And she laughed any chance she got. The few pictures I have left of her, she is laughing and smiling in each... That big toothy smile, and that magical laugh... I remember the first time she kissed me. I was playing my guitar on campus, back when everybody did it, not just pretentious ********** trying to show off. She came up behind me, and did the old hands over the eyes routine, and of course I knew her voice immediately. She turned my head and kissed me, for the first time, and I could hear the whispering, and feel everyone's eyes on me, and it felt pretty **** good. How I wished someone had snapped a picture, for the FSView, with the caption " Future valedictorian kisses scruffy hippy freshman. Entire student body baffled." I was baffled. She was the talk of the campus, she spoke her mind always, and she was active all over the campus, doing this and that. I asked her one day, "Why do you make your life so complex, when do you rest?" and she said "My life used to be complex, because I made it that way. But believe it or not, with all I do around campus, really my life is simple and fun. If I didn't love what I am doing I would stop Will. Life is too short for complexity." I laughed, and I thought to myself, this woman is more complex than she lets on. We went out for my entire freshman year, but she graduated my sophmore year, and she got a job in London, and she moved away that summer. I said I would visit...I never did.. She said she would write...she did, once, to tell me she was getting married, she even invited me, but of course I didn't go.. She enclosed a photo of her and her fiance, and it was clear what she saw in him.. he had a smile almost as big as hers, and of course she was smiling too.. Of all the images burned into my memory that picture is the one that hurts me most. I wrote back, wishing her luck, and I told her I couldn't come, I never heard from her again, but I prayed that night, that he would treat her right, and if he took away her smile, I prayed he would suffer, until he put it back. Every time I close my eyes, I see that picture... that smile... I hope she's smiling, even as I write these words.
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68
Sitting there yesterday at the football game, Watching my son tackling the quarterback, Feeling the warm sun and watching him earn respect, From his teammates, made my heart proud. Looking around, I saw the cheerleaders, 11 yrs old, too. Yelling and flipping and shouting. Then from nowhere, "My glitter is sweating off!" Makes me laugh outloud.   Little kids running everywhere, Parents watching their kids, visiting, It was a great scene! Until I looked down in this sneezing little boys face, And watched him scoop up some boogers and have a snack. Looking back I suppose it is only to be expected as part of the scenery, and I can laugh now. Just as watching the cheerleaders commenting, And the poor kid who pulled a groin muscle, Hobble off the field, is part of the scene. All in all, a beautiful day, fun, family, and reality all at once.
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Oct 11, 2010
Oct 11, 2010 at 3:56 AM UTC
At the Game
Watching men defeat each other, Like it's our own little Colosseum. People pay to be up close, To be with the winning team as they boast. The women stand at the side, Cheering for front line tide. They will crash with the other team's wave, Split the difference bets are made. Body on body they battle each other, Do they even know one and another? Or do they just follow the coach's words, "Push forward boys, make them hurl." Game after game, They do the same thing. Win or lose, They still get paid. Paid the big bucks to put on a show, Commercials roll on before you know. Get you to buy, get you to watch, Buy this ****** like Miss March. Forty-Sixth battle same as all before. Crowds will still cheer, the cheerleaders are all ****** Losers will ***** and the Referee always ***** These mindless men get paid the big bucks.
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Feb 5, 2012
Feb 5, 2012 at 6:12 PM UTC
Current Colosseum Clashes
“High school is the best years of your life” Well if that’s the case then hand me a knife If this is as good as it gets then I’m ******* I’m just being honest; I don’t mean to be rude But I dream of a day without teachers or books Or jocks and cheerleaders and their **** good looks I’m done with the stoners, the losers, and geeks Thank God this whole thing will end in a few short weeks.
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Nov 13, 2012
Nov 13, 2012 at 9:05 PM UTC
High School
The funny thing about life                                               Is how we all have different perceptions and opinions                                                                                                                                                On the same topics But ha, Nowadays we've all got to be nonconformists Rebellion is tricky thing to master To go against society is pretty much impossible When the rest of society goes against itself So those who rebel against the normal Are so numerous that rebellion has become normal conformity so to speak, Has been lost in the eyes of adolescence And blinded by the ideas That being yourself Is mainstream But be different But that's too average light in the prism of teenage life Is bent to show illusions and be deceptive To tell us its accepted to be a unaccepted Lets head back to the time where preppy cheerleaders and brain-dead football jocks Ruled the hallways And il-pubescent band geeks were shoved into lockers Like in the movies Where only real society is existent
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Mar 22, 2012
Mar 22, 2012 at 10:15 PM UTC
All The "Hipsters"
We meet by the lockers at break I'm still amazed that this school has Cheerleaders that basketball not rounders & netball is the sport played that we study the Cold War ' Of Mice & Men' & the War in Vietnam that we have 'Hitzenfrei' days that our German teacher always forgives our mistakes that boys & girls hang out together that we put on musicals I've never heard of That we celebrate the fall of the Wall that we take school trips to Concentration Camps that there's no uniform that the teachers rarely explain anything that the word ' rubber' doesn't mean ' eraser' here but something else that there are stereotypes like 'nerd' & ' prom queen' that we welcome grafitti that we believe in Love above any kind of Study that we have the freedom to pick & choose our failiures without being sent to the Principal's office that we read Kerouac Carl Sandburg & Ginsberg that nearly everyone has lived in at least two or three different countries that we rarely fight that my crush plays trumpet in a ska band that we go to the nearby Lakes on weekends & the English language cinema on Tuesdays that we celebrate Halloween bit by bit I nearly forget my All Girls school days in soggy Britain where I had no friends where we sang hymns every single morning where we didn't practice the Love we preached where our future was crumbling old Oxbridge where we had a coat of arms where we had houses named after the merchant ships of our Founder  from the 1600ds where we didn't dream of becoming Presidents or Astronauts but Academics forever lost in musty books the flower of our youth, wasted *Hitzenfrei days were days in summer when we were let off school because it was too hot. Wall - Berlin Wall
0
Jul 3, 2015
Jul 3, 2015 at 1:03 PM UTC
JFK school, Berlin
We meet by the lockers at break I'm still amazed that this school has Cheerleaders that basketball not rounders & netball is the sport played that we study the Cold War ' Of Mice & Men' & the War in Vietnam that we have 'Hitzenfrei' days that our German teacher always forgives our mistakes that boys & girls hang out together that we put on musicals I've never heard of That we celebrate the fall of the Wall that we take school trips to Concentration Camps that there's no uniform that the teachers rarely explain anything that the word ' rubber' doesn't mean ' eraser' here but something else that there are stereotypes like 'nerd' & ' prom queen' that we welcome grafitti that we believe in Love above any kind of Study that we have the freedom to pick & choose our failiures without being sent to the Principal's office that we read Kerouac Carl Sandburg & Ginsberg that nearly everyone has lived in at least two or three different countries that we rarely fight that my crush plays trumpet in a ska band that we go to the nearby Lakes on weekends & the English language cinema on Tuesdays that we celebrate Halloween bit by bit I nearly forget my All Girls school days in soggy Britain where I had no friends where we sang hymns every single morning where we didn't practice the Love we preached where our future was crumbling old Oxbridge where we had a coat of arms where we had houses named after the merchant ships of our Founder  from the 1600ds where we didn't dream of becoming Presidents or Astronauts but Academics forever lost in musty books the flower of our youth, wasted *Hitzenfrei days were days in summer when we were let off school because it was too hot. Wall - Berlin Wall
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74
Mirror mirror, on the wall Who’s the most rebellious of them all? Leader-types? Jocks? Cheerleaders? Oh my… Or is it the band nerds? Or the kids in the corner getting high? Nowadays it’s cooler to take the non-conformist rout But then that becomes conformity, Not rebelling to any degree If we are all going against the grain, What is a non-conformist? A drinker? A smoker? An artist? A musician? Somebody trying to be different? But then people think Drinker becomes a bad influence. Smoker is automatically a grimy kid. Artists are too dramatic. Musicians symbolize arrogance. Different becomes attention seeking. There really are no true rebels until you look at those quiet observers The kids who refuse to drink, Smoke, Act out, Draw attention to themselves They become rebellious But only by not rebelling So do these things make me a rebel? Or do they make me Me? Now do we see the flaws In our society?
0
May 25, 2013
May 25, 2013 at 12:06 PM UTC
Mirror, Mirror
Have you ever noticed all the superheroes in your school? That kid who's strong enough to lift things and throw them at the other kid who's strong enough to actually take it. Those popular girls, the cheerleaders who always find the positive in everything and have super cool elastic flexibility! And those super cool independent chicks with their headphones in, hoods up, shutting out the rest of the world. Oh and of course those 'Clark Kent's who are so intellectual leaving you puzzled and curious every time. Those are the best kind of heroes because they're the underdogs. You wouldn't think any of these guys would ever be capable of being your Superman at Prom. But you take away the glasses and then you'll really feel dumb. There's all those cool superheroes hanging in the canteen, spreading around like a bad cough in the playground and then.. and then there's me. Hi there. I have the tendency to fade into the shadows of the ground, My weakness is focal point. The spotlight would burn against my sensitive skin like how a sunrise would burn the skin of a vampire. The attention of a million little lights would be the cause of my own fire. And if you look into my eyes.. If I let you, You'll see my life flash right before yours, you'll suddenly feel scared to know me.. but you'll care enough to try. I guess you could call me Invisi-Girl! 'Cause I don't even wear a cloak, nope, I don't even need a cloak, to be seen as the most invisible girl in the world.
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Feb 3, 2014
Feb 3, 2014 at 2:39 PM UTC
Meet.. Invisi-Girl!
Spare me from suburbia. I hate the chatter. And the cookie cutter houses. And people worrying about what shade of Estee Lauder they need to look 20 years younger. The bigger the SUV ...the better. Yeah that's my saying too. Oh yes it's Doggy Spa day! yippee. Freakin morons. Put your Gucci shades back on quick before you get to the underpass and see the man who fought for your freedom so that you can enjoy your Sushi on the right side of town, begging for anything you can spare. But thats right you have nothing to give, do you. I mean you couldn't possibly dip into the college fund for little Jessica, who by the way is snorting blow as we speak, in the projects across the tracks, while you think she is attending the high school pep rally, as all good cheerleaders do. And you might want to slow down just a little bit, because if you reach your hubby's highrise office even just one minute ahead of schedule, Candy won't have time to push her skirt back down, wipe her mouth, and re apply her reading glasses, before you enter...and that would be a bit uncomfortable , don't you think? Maybe you just better turn around altogether and head back to suburbia baby! There's a reason you are called a stay-at-home mom. It's the safest place for you...trust me. Reality causes varicose veins and then you would need emergency laser surgery to correct it, which would interefere with your PTA meeting this afternoon.
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Nov 19, 2011
Nov 19, 2011 at 7:01 PM UTC
3 Story Houses
the pain. she envied the movie star like glistening smile. she wanted to be like the girls who were carefree. she wanted to be beautiful. but beautiful to her was thin. it started when someone called her fat. "am I?" she wondered. so she starved herself, maybe eating a ******* or two after mama told her. but she spit them back up because she couldn't help it. she wanted to be like the pretty school cheerleaders. and she hated herself. each time she stepped on the scale she cried. the numbers soon went from 88 to 89 "im doing it wrong" she thought. and she continued on going day by day with water. swallowing and spitting back up. eating more and more. and spitting it back up. she was slowly going insane, day by day. she started slicing her wrists like meat. she started crying herself to sleep. she became empty of adrenaline. she didn't want to wake up anymore. i guess you could say that pain, is an understatement.
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May 23, 2015
May 23, 2015 at 4:32 PM UTC
understatement
Plastic smiles are always the worst   They're just the slightest bit off at first   They make your creep senses start to tingle and make a sensation   She said, I give off a creepy sort of vibe   I said, that's an odd way to start a conversation       I just ate popcorn and watched girls play volleyball   Then got made fun of for being such a creep   But I told them I was only sitting here all by myself   That's probably why I'm three times more creepier than the ordinary solo creep       Mention your red Ferrari, that'll get the ******* dropping faster   One can be a creep and still get to enjoy the role of being master   I told a girl at her 18th birthday party, that I wanted to eat that cake off her ***   Then I had to tell the entire party, that I had to hurry back to class   To practice going hands solo coming and going while flashing my special hall pass   I asked if ya wanna take a ride home with me in my squeaky cruising van?   Truly a mystery why anyone would call me a little bit creepy, ****       But I told them I was not here all by myself   That's probably why I'm three times more creepier than the ordinary solo creep       I tried to start an **** once or twice, on a bus full of giggling cheerleaders   While on the way back from our schools annual college basketball 'bout   Tried but failed at having *** with everyone on that bus, only as a game   Even did a strip tease for everyone and I even tried to make out   They didn't wanna make out but they liked my strip tease of fame       But I told them I was not here by myself   That's probably why I'm three times more creepier than the ordinary solo creep       Now I feel like a junior high football ****   Waiting for the nod, so I can stop doing it into a sock   Why get a girlfriend when I can just ********** with ****   **** dude. Just call a ****** up already and get that out the way   We all make fools of ourselves sometimes, ok for me everyday       But I told them I was never there by myself   That's why I'm so much more creepier than any other so, so, crazee mudda fuckka.
0
Sep 10, 2019
Sep 10, 2019 at 5:49 PM UTC
Crazee Mudda Fuckka
Plastic smiles are always the worst   They're just the slightest bit off at first   They make your creep senses start to tingle and make a sensation   She said, I give off a creepy sort of vibe   I said, that's an odd way to start a conversation       I just ate popcorn and watched girls play volleyball   Then got made fun of for being such a creep   But I told them I was only sitting here all by myself   That's probably why I'm three times more creepier than the ordinary solo creep       Mention your red Ferrari, that'll get the ******* dropping faster   One can be a creep and still get to enjoy the role of being master   I told a girl at her 18th birthday party, that I wanted to eat that cake off her ***   Then I had to tell the entire party, that I had to hurry back to class   To practice going hands solo coming and going while flashing my special hall pass   I asked if ya wanna take a ride home with me in my squeaky cruising van?   Truly a mystery why anyone would call me a little bit creepy, ****       But I told them I was not here all by myself   That's probably why I'm three times more creepier than the ordinary solo creep       I tried to start an **** once or twice, on a bus full of giggling cheerleaders   While on the way back from our schools annual college basketball 'bout   Tried but failed at having *** with everyone on that bus, only as a game   Even did a strip tease for everyone and I even tried to make out   They didn't wanna make out but they liked my strip tease of fame       But I told them I was not here by myself   That's probably why I'm three times more creepier than the ordinary solo creep       Now I feel like a junior high football ****   Waiting for the nod, so I can stop doing it into a sock   Why get a girlfriend when I can just ********** with ****   **** dude. Just call a ****** up already and get that out the way   We all make fools of ourselves sometimes, ok for me everyday       But I told them I was never there by myself   That's why I'm so much more creepier than any other so, so, crazee mudda fuckka.
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