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Francie Lynch Feb 2017
A lame idea's not a knock
At ones who can't stand and walk.

My eight handicap's not a slur
To any falling short of par.

I repeat, Are you deaf or something,
Doesn't insult the hard of hearing;
It only means you're not listening.

If one's blind as a bat,
It's not a slight, it's not a fact,
It's just a phrase we humans use;
I've heard some used against the Jews,
And others we've unlearned to use.

We of habit and long of tooth
Aren't as bad as you may think
When overhearing oldies speak:
I'm just jittery when I'm spooked.

Our excessive sensitivity's daunting.
Nothing said's meant to be hurting.

How does all this sit with Whitey?
Yes, Whitey's what I said.
Should I mind that name?
Isn't it the same?
It's used to ridicule,
Exposing Whiteys as the fools,
By some who think they're far too cool:

     Whitey said so...
     Whitey did so...
     Whitey don't know...


This Whitey do know;
He don't like this ****,
Not one little bit, Brother;
And it makes me cottin-pickin ******
With the hypocrisy, Sister.
The road goes both ways... Brother.
Lavender Menace Mar 2020
I'm crying in my room at 2 AM.
Again.
Don't take frizzy hair and midnight cuddles for granted, they leave when you least expect.
When I'm not thinking I get lost in your sweet cottin candy eyes.
And I know it's not for me, those cottin candy eyes and midnight curls.
Still I'll wish for starry kisses and porkipine nights.
Still I'll miss the Cold soda filled drinking from the hose and laughing till Sunday.
Im not the religion filled lightshow, that you said I was one day. I can't help but wish I could be me how you see me.
You have a strawberry swirl sundae and I'm happy you can keep it.
My mint chocolate chip still breaks my teeth every night I try to lick it off the floor
I'm happy for you and him
For him and you.
So don't look back at my flickering lights just walk away with your strawberry banana sundae, I'll be okay.
This poem is about my best friend with midnight curls and Cotten candy Eyes. I might not see her again for awhile, but it's okay, I'm okay I'm happy for her. I just wish I didn't feel this hurt about it. I really ******* hope it doesn't show, but I'm happy for her and i will be okay without her. Sorry I'm rambling, lol this is dumb. Anyway hope y'all are having an amazing incubation period! Feel free to give me some feedback in comments or pm me if you want I always try to make a point to respond.
storm predicted, wind swept,
the visitors came, to report
the leak was dripping
on the soap and mothth.

my bath room.

it has been a week of water,
seeping the cellar, blowing
the window wide, wreaking
repairs.

the soap was laid gently,
a radiator, pears.

the mothth on a cottin flannel
to air.

they both dried, thanks
to my visitor.

I stayed home all day.

sbm.
Niall Power Mar 2017
How much would Hemingway and Raymond Carver,
Bukowski
and Oscar Wilde
scoff at my sobriety?
"You gave in and gave up, at 28?"
The words I'd then write
for these old dead white guys
about wanting to get better
about trying to be sober
about working a program
C'mon man...

In my defense
they didn't have Oxy cottin
or Xanax
But
they also didn't have central air
or auto-correct

So for my old, white,
dead drunken heroes
Who most likely
wouldn't like me
I'll hold my white privilege close
to my heart
At my core I'll be angry with
women
I won't look to jesus
to beg for forgiveness
Most importantly
I'll hold onto the truth
that statistically
I'll end up drinking
myself to death
at 50

— The End —