"curfew" poems
**No Justice, No Peace
If we can't get it from the Court
then we'll take it from the Streets
No Justice, No Peace
**** the Police
and what you believe!**
Whatever happened to Revolution
Being the American way?
When your voice remains unheard
For which you suffer every day,
Your life is constantly stepped on,
Your rights keep getting taken away,
And in spite of the lies they spin to protect your oppressors,
You still keep the rage at bay
Because you are not
Above the Law
and neither is anyone else.
So taking matters into your own hands
Isn't going to help.
You entrust the justice system
to do what it's supposed to
Even though you know it never has
and is probably never going to.
But if you haven't done anything wrong and the Law doesn't serve you,
and only seems to defend the people who've already hurt you,
then honestly I think it's insane and completely absurd to
not only expect the People not to react,
but to honor a curfew.
**** YOU**
Do you hear us yet?
**** YOU**
Oh, it's inappropriate?
You don't wanna talk about it?
You don't wanna think about it?
You don't wanna deal with it?
Well guess what?
Nobody ******* does, nobody ******* would, nobody ever ******* could.
But for the people who don't look like you -
Aryan Beauty Standards
Hair of Gold, Eyes of Blue
Fair-skinned, light-skinned
European skeleton,
It was never a choice they had.
Oppression doesn't pick you
Based on qualifications
Any more than Privilege does,
If you think this case
Is not about race
You better check your Privilege, cuz.
I love my home, America
But I hate what it's become
Land of the greedy, home of the afraid
Kingdom of the Loud and Dumb
Slut-shaming, victim-blaming, race-hating, race-baiting
Sensationalization of the worst crimes in the nation
Religious intolerance, homophobic misogyny, blatant racial discrimination
Can't get with it, can't hang
At least not in the lynch mob sense
I am blown the **** away
at the grievous absence of common sense.
So when they lit those flags on fire
in the center of the town
*I understand, and I can't blame them
the flag is truer up in flames now*
And if they so decide to burn
the city to the ground,
*I understand, and I can't blame them
I would wanna burn it down*
**No Justice, No Peace
If we can't get it from the Court
then we'll take it from the Streets
No Justice, No Peace
**** the Police
and **** your Beliefs!**
Nov 26, 2014
Nov 26, 2014 at 5:57 PM UTC
if life were more about,
trading baseball cards,
riding roller coasters,
staying out past
curfew
we would be
friends for
life
But life
is more about
ego
pride
*******
you became someones
to me, because of no ones
important to either
one now
so just like
marbles and hardwood floors,
the right thing to say at the time,
things
get
lost.
Mar 28, 2015
Mar 28, 2015 at 6:29 PM UTC
A subtle panic like a slow death creeps, the anxiety within me, for here's where it sleeps.
Quietly loud enough to cover the sound, of the glassware you've thrown, now strewn all around.
Rocking all positive lullaby's to sleep, ensuring all menacing thoughts I'm to keep.
It's adept like the teen who's stayed out beyond curfew, sneaks in armed with oceans with which it will drown you.
All because of the lies that were said, went in through your ears and lived in your head.
The life you once had held aloft like a prize, you breathe your last breath and then close your eyes.
Poetry by Kaydee.
Dec 18, 2017
Dec 18, 2017 at 4:04 PM UTC
you ‘why’ her.
While she is thrilled & happily beside you,
Telling you when she’s up to something new.
Your pre-existing notion of setting a “ya” for her limits,
Persistent "no" to her wishes,
She grows up to know that,
if she got to do something new
She got to fight over the, 5 Ws & 1 H!
Ow! & you convince it’s out of distress not mistrust!
And by the Indian parenting manual,
questionnaire weighs heavier at a girl.
ultimately,
“This time”, “That day”,
" This place", “Those people”
Would impregnate her!
Sons of yours -
Son of nights! freely hatching eggs past curfew.
Not foreseeing the evenings his sister would come crying.
Parents when you talk on equality & empowerment,
Let broad mind not hit the very ceiling of your house
Let rest mindset that proclaims gender roles,
The differential idea you set on them,
From who uses broom to who chooses groom.
If misogyny is permeated in the roots of society
Cleansing and changing begins in the family,
Before there in your minds, first.
May 16, 2017
May 16, 2017 at 12:39 AM UTC
I was 14 when I first discovered love,
Colors bloom the day when he arrived.
His face was my favorite mystery to solve,
Please just please don't get on my nerves.
For the very first time I laid my eyes on someone,
For such beauty could make you go insane.
Even though he's hiding; you can see easily spot him,
And I'm just someone who has always wished that you can claim.
Forlorn figures painted on my face,
Someone like you that can't be replaced.
Even though you left with no trace,
I won't forget your tight embrace.
Ditching off with you when we both have a curfew,
Out of nowhere sketches of you that I even drew.
Even if those memories can count as few,
I still love you even if you love someone new.
Jul 1, 2018
Jul 1, 2018 at 12:02 PM UTC
for my mother
the lioness is both a fierce protector
and a gentle nurturer
nothing escapes the gaze of her amber eyes
but she seldom feels the need to roar
she hunts with unmatched precision
but still has the patience to teach, and work with others
she understands her role in her pride
but is never proud
she possesses unparalleled strength
as well as the wisdom to know when to use it
she won't hesitate to grab her cub by the scruff of its neck
to keep it out of harms way
she is more than capable of working alone
but understands the importance of community
she never loses her spirit of playfulness
and her primary habitat is in the grasslands of Africa
but there are some things about the lioness
that you can't learn about by reading
she will wait up for you, when you're out past curfew
just to make sure that you get home safely
she will always be a listening ear
but she will never judge you
she loves others without condition
but knows better than to feel before she thinks
she will encourage you ceaselessly
and tell you you're more than good enough
this lioness, of which i speak
has not claws, nor tail, nor fangs, nor paws
but she is far more powerful
than any jungle cat could ever hope to be
- m.f.
Oct 28, 2013
Oct 28, 2013 at 9:14 PM UTC
She furiously takes notes in geometry class
He throws a paper plane across the room
She gets out her neatly written homework
He gets out a scratch paper with drawings on it
She maintains straight A's
He's lucky to get a D+
She has a strict curfew of 9:00 pm
He stays out all night
She daydreams about what could be
He steps up for what he wants
She reads Shakespeare
He reads... Well he doesn't
She drives the latest model of the Honda civic
He's lucky if his '76 Toyota will start
She's only loved honor students
He's only loved her
She pays no attention to him
He begs for her notification
She graduates top of her class
He barely gets by
She goes off to college
He stays and becomes a mechanic
She marries rich and lives wealthily but bitterly
He regrets the concealed feelings he never shared
Nov 3, 2013
Nov 3, 2013 at 9:08 PM UTC
She has a way of tormenting you
In every direction you try take
She gives you a curfew
Hoping, probing, that you, too, slip through the cracks.
I wanted to be a astronaut
To explore the universe
To find my destiny
Through the black hole
And out
Spaghettified or not
When my now cuffed-mind
Soared the air
With wings dispersed in the wind
Still when she didn't care
And thought I was harmless
She tried shooting me down
And got one through a wing
Now I think I want to be an accountant
Mediocre and sane
But who wants to have sanity
When you can be in it?
So I crashed into Hyperion
And as high as I am
She still sends her vicious winds
To try and cut me down
But her torment crafts precious stones
So in the interim
I'll hold on
Hoping that I can un-cuff my mind
Keeping a birds-eye view
Like a leopard waiting for its ****
So that one day
I can glide the universe
Wings distributed out wide
Skillful and experienced
So she can never shoot me down
Now
Perched on Hyperion
Patient and vigilant
I wait
Aug 27, 2014
Aug 27, 2014 at 12:51 PM UTC
I told you I would not write a sappy love poem for you.
I will not write about your hair,
The lightly golden pieces that sometimes fall into your eyes.
I will not write about your words,
The way they always make me laugh.
I will not write about your body,
The muscular cut under moonlight that takes my breath away.
And I promise I will not tell a soul.
I won't say it was past curfew,
And that you forgot the key in.
I will keep all of you a secret.
But most of all I won't write a sappy love poem to you.
Oct 27, 2014
Oct 27, 2014 at 8:13 AM UTC
Pressure from someone else is called peer pressure
Look it up, google it, it's a thing
I apologize for the inaccuracy of my definition but you get the gist
Peer pressure is a ******* ****** bag telling you to **** his **** when you don't want to
It's when "friends" tell you to have your first shot, smoke, sniff of whatever mood altering substance they want you to consume
Just watch a crashcourse, that **** is bad for you okay
It's when you kiss someone you don't want to
When you stay out late after your curfew
When you sneak out late at night to meet the guy you have a "thing" with but everyone knows your his rebound
But peer pressure
Don't give in
All your gonna feel
Is absolute regret
Jun 17, 2014
Jun 17, 2014 at 2:23 PM UTC
This is Seventeen.
Seventeen is loosely in the beginning of my life. Seventeen is realizing you’ve got a whole lot of life left in front of you. It is accepting that life is a page of writing that has been started, but is nowhere near finished, that a few doors have closed, but many more are still open, that some choices are irrevocable, but some may be changed yet, that there are still many what ifs that need to be figured out.
Seventeen is being caught in the limbo of being seen as an incompetent child and being forced to make adult decisions.
Seventeen is having the freedom to drive anywhere, but having a curfew to stay within.
Seventeen is losing many of the friends you used to have, but keeping the ones who are the closest to you, the ones who understand you the best, the ones you hope to have forever.
Seventeen is being able to stay up late, eating pizza in the park, and play on a playscape trying to be kids for just a little longer.
Seventeen is year long concert series and jamming out to your favorite bands covered in sweat.
Seventeen is dying your hair bright colors, much to your mother’s disparagement, and then changing it a week later.
Seventeen is being forced to choose what you want to do with the rest of your life when your favorite food changes on a daily basis and you have no idea how to function without your mom nagging you.
Seventeen is being excited, scared, sad, angry, hopeful, happy, jealous all at once and trying to deal with it, while still completing your homework on time.
Dec 8, 2016
Dec 8, 2016 at 1:12 AM UTC
How I adore your nerve
when you kissed me in your closet upon sheets made of legos
and all of your childhood dreams.
How easy I am for you to draw when you play on stage the song that you wrote me,
The one that feels like rock climbing by the river,
Like naps in the summer when I drool on your chest and you don't mind,
Like kissing you until the very last minute of my curfew,
only to break it for the miracle that is your lips.
How alluring is your breath on my neck,
Your voice in my ear when you told me that you loved me
and you didn't stop smiling,
even as the years went by and I did.
How I craved, longed, begged for time to be still
the time you took me to the highest hill you could drive to,
You called it my mountain.
"At first, you look at it and it's so small,
but once you notice it, it's all you can see," you said.
How my stomach floods with waves of nostalgia and a taste
of everything I've ever had to live without,
With complete and utter spell-binded devotion at the simple familiarity
of your smell.
How addicted I am to your laugh when you're happy and
the mastered impression you do of your mom.
How weak I am to your intellect and your appreciation of literature
and real music,
Your enthusiasm for art and the "name that note" game you force upon me
as you stumble onto the classical radio station.
How in love I am with your romance that is as childish as my attachment
to my baby blankie and my mother's childhood walrus that you never ceased to insult.
Our pajama day that we decided over our prom,
When we turned on John Mayer and slow danced in your room.
Your idea of a date consisted of fake wine and me.
How incredibly warm are the coldest of nights,
On the side of your dirt road as we lie in the snow that is too cold for comfort,
yet holds us there with the fear that one day will not look the same as this one
and I would bear any amount of cold winter to keep one more moment of yours.
How I cherish the way you latch my pinky with yours when we walk
And the face you don't know you make when you play guitar.
The rooftop where you kissed me for the very first time and the string rings
we wore to remind each other we were still there.
How incredibly and unfortunately devout I am to all that I remember of you.
Jan 20, 2014
Jan 20, 2014 at 2:51 AM UTC
(5/25/12)
They had married at a very young age
At the time they thought it was a game.
They had been together for a long time
and he thought that everything would be fine.
They had lived together for two years or more
And they thought they knew the score.
At seventeen years of age they felt they knew it all
And life was to have a ball.
With part time jobs they paid their bills
Living together was such a thrill.
Not having to worry about a curfew hour
Now “ they had all the power”.
Going out partying every weekend
Not thinking of the money that they spent.
Coming home late at night , being drunk
They would start to fight.
She started feeling some ************ pain
And from this point on their lives would change.
She went to her doctor to check it out
Pregnant she was - there was no doubt.
Now their eyes opened to the fact
From this point on there was no turning back.
They now had a child on the way
And they could no longer go out to play.
He got a full time job and straightened up his act
And a better position he would have to attack.
He went back to school To get a better education
And to give his wife and child all that he could give
And with both their incomes they would have to live.
She worked for seven months till she
Could work no longer, and to get their house in order.
When she went to the hospital because her time was due
She found out she was having not one but two.
She gave birth to a beautiful boy and girl
He was a diamond and she a pearl.
The most precious babies you’d ever want to see
And he was the proud father - as proud as can be.
They struggled like most couples do
But he was determined to see it through.
She took her children and held them tight
For in their faces she saw their fathers might.
His love so strong for his family
And this is what they all did see.
And the rest is history.
May 25, 2012
May 25, 2012 at 9:11 PM UTC
Prom Time ~ Past...
What an exciting time it was.
High School Prom...
It seems like we girls were
More excited over this dance
Then those boys....
Mom i need a dress,
So mom would make me a dress.
New fancy earrings...
An evening made special
For a Cinderella... oh we girls
Were all in a make believe
Cinderella daze...in 1958
Curfew 12a.m. don't be late
Prom Time ~ Present...
My grandson was ask to prom
By a girl who baked him cupcakes
That spelled out PROM?
Very creative, who wouldn't
Except that invitation....
Limo picking them up,
Off to a restaurant,
Followed by dancing and gabbing,
And the after prom....
All night long, chaperones, snacks, games.
Curfew ~ morning ... don't be late... 2014
The Prom was and is what you make it...A MEMORY
by ~ judy
Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 6:40 AM UTC
Two blocks up , I am in a different country
Land Rover solves the dodgy directions
The movie bar in Calacoto feels like home
Wood fire outside smoky smoking area
Drink fuels the inside outside conversation
An almost Irish pub mix of entrepreneur and
Adventurer and lawyer and endless talk
Between pizza and passion is the fire of love
Four hours to wake up call ends the night
As midnight curfew calls the others home.
Jun 3, 2013
Jun 3, 2013 at 9:36 AM UTC
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.
Sep 17, 2012
Sep 17, 2012 at 7:49 AM UTC
The door
The floor
Hush
The walls
The windows
Whisper
Muted cries
Muffled shouts
Painting the walls like dust
The words are not for us
It's the lot behind
The door
The floor
Hush
The walls
The windows
whisper
Muted cries
Muffled shouts
I've got no doubts when I hear your voice
"But it's past my curfew" I tell myself
"I've got no choice"
The door
The floor
Hush
The walls
The windows
Whisper
Muted cries
Muffled shouts
I don't know you
Though I feel like I do
The door
The floor
Hush
The walls
The windows
Whisper
Muted cries
Muffled shouts
Night after night
I peek through the curtains
Once the fight ends
I see you walk the length of the fence
Wiping tears only I have seen you cry
The door
The floor
Hush
The walls
The windows
Whisper
Silent sobs
Shattered parts
I wish so badly I could mend your heart
Apr 23, 2015
Apr 23, 2015 at 8:39 PM UTC
I Am Fly And You Are Flu
Which Means You Were Fly Before I Came Thru
I Walk In Slow I Steal The Show
And I Don't Want Your Man But I'll Take His Dough
I Am Me And Me I Do
I Keep My Dudes Like Curfew
So They Running Back
And Me Is Too
And I Pull More Dudes
Than I Pull Tissue
Girls Are Stupid
And Guys Are Lame (Lame)
Girls Want The Fame (Fame)
Guys Just Wanna *** Me
So Friday Thru Monday
My Phone Is On Vibrate
No Drama On My Plate
Im Just Gonna Party
I'm Just Gonna Party
No Drama On My Plate
My Phone Is On Vibrate
Friday Thru Monday
Guys Just Wanna *** Me
Girls Just Want The Fame (Fame)
And Guys Are So Lame (Lame)
Guys Are So Lame (Lame)
Groupie Girls Wanting Fame
Ugly Boys Wanting My Aim
Backstabbing Friends Playing Pretend
I See Right Thru Just Like The Lens
I'm The ****
I Set Trends
You're A ***** That Steals Boyfriends
He's A Loser
Broke He Is
Im Indigo
And Im Filthy Rich
Girls Are Stupid
And Guys Are Lame (Lame)
Girls Want The Fame (Fame)
Guys Just Wanna *** Me
So Friday Thru Monday
My Phone Is On Vibrate
No Drama On My Plate
Im Just Gonna Party
I Am Fly And You Are Flu
Which Means You Were Fly Before I Came Thru
I Walk In Slow I Steal The Show
And I Don't Want Your Man But I'll Take His Dough
I Am Me And Me I Do
I Keep My Dudes Like Curfew
So They Running Back
And Me Is Too
And I Pull More Guys
Than I Pull Tissue
Groupie Girls Wanting Fame
Ugly Boys Wanting My Aim
Backstabbing Friends Playing Pretend
I See Right Thru Just Like The Lens
I'm The ****
I Set Trends
You're A ***** That Steals Boyfriends
He's A Loser
Broke He Is
Im Indigo
And Im Filthy Rich
Girls Are Stupid
And Guys Are Lame (Lame)
Girls Want The Fame (Fame)
Guys Just Wanna *** Me
So Friday Thru Monday
My Phone Is On Vibrate
No Drama On My Plate
Im Just Gonna Party
Im Hot
Im Hot
And Haters Aren't
And Haters Aren't
Im Having Fun
Im Having Fun
While You Mean Mug
Uh Huh
Uh Huh
Oh Wee
Oh Wee
Oh
Ice
Ice
Ice
Oh Wee
Oh Wee
Oh
Im Nice
Nice
Nice
Break It Down!
Im Indigo Vanity
Every Guys Fantasy
Make You Lose Your Sanity
I Hate Groupies
No Sus Monkeys
Can't You See
I Do Me
So You Do You
I Do Me
So You Do You
I Do Me
So You Do You
I.... Do.... Me....
So.... You.... Do.... You!
Nov 21, 2013
Nov 21, 2013 at 2:37 PM UTC
Gettin’ sh!t on like I’m The Villian,
got this queasy feeling on the line reeling,
coming undone at the same time wound up and spun,
I’m done playing but stuck at the table with The Dealer still dealing,
want to throw myself up out of myself,
can escape every position except the one I’m in,
can’t escape yourself if knowledge is wealth,
then I’m loaded & still spending my winnings,
got Karma Credit but I’m morally cash poor,
because I just fckt my girlfriend as if she was a *****
and I feel terrible or rather horrible about it,
because i think I’m infected by what neglect did without a cure,
no one is pure,
at least I’m not that’s for sure,
I'm tainted with devils in my head painted with what I spilled I’m red,
sick with the sort of illness that can't easily be cured,
in fact got a bad case of the blues,
but instead of strumming a guitar I’m taking things too far,
cut her so bad with my fingernails,
that I fear it might leave a few scars,
tied her up so tight,
that her wrists turned purple,
see she’s attracted to bad boys,
and I warned her that that’s the type of attraction that can hurt you,
little girl shouldn’t be out past her curfew,
nothing good ever happens past midnight,
but we’re both running from something,
both stand outs in the in crowd still something doesn’t sit right,
I’m uncomfortable,
because I think maybe all humans are disgusting,
maybe we just cause each other pain and trash the earth’s surface,
maybe we deserve to feel guilty & that’s why we are all fcking distrusting,
maybe I’m gonna fckn **** myself,
but this is a card game so then again maybe I’m bluffing,
maybe everything’s going to be alright,
maybe I’m being uptight for nothing,
but I’ll tell you what I feel like the **** of my own joke,
but I don’t give a fck so instead of changing I’m just shrugging,
mean mugging every person I pass suspicious of every bloke,
because these days crime pays and everyone’s always up to something,
and I just want to get ghost,
but I can’t and I guess that’s the way it goes,
so I’m sittin’ in the uncomfortable position,
of being both a role model as well as a criminal,
Gettin’ sh!t on like I’m The Villian,
got this queasy feeling on the line reeling,
coming undone at the same time wound up and spun,
I’m done playing but stuck at the table with The Dealer still dealing…
∆ LaLux ∆
Sep 17, 2018
Sep 17, 2018 at 7:18 AM UTC
I don’t have faith.
I just know that I belong to my Savior Jesus. I met her once when I was 11, at her humble single wide in a cramped trailer park and she made candied walnuts on a hotplate. I didn’t find out until years later that she paid for my scholarship. She had passed on by then; I wish I could have thanked her.
He arrived at Juvenile Hall at 7:00 pm looking like Mrs. Santa Claus, to take me into her home for a year. I made some sarcastic teenage comment about the stupid country music on her car radio, and she tolerated it with a smile; saying ‘its not stupid, its simple.’ She showed me what a caring family looks like and didn’t kick me out for being a ******** gave me chores and a curfew to show me I belonged.
When I had no family or boyfriend in my life, I lived in a maternity home until my baby would be adopted. Jesus was the stranger in the hushed hospital room holding my hand, after the medics couldn’t find the heartbeat in the ambulance, which was confirmed on the maternity floor, and I was taken to another floor so my crying wouldn’t upset the other mothers. The room was small and dark and alone, and the clock on the wall took an eternity to move two minutes, for the entire night that I was in labor, the longest night in my life. I didn’t remember someone holding my hand; I was so drugged for pain. She showed me her arms two days later, so bruised because she didn’t leave me.
Jesus was the woman from Planned Parenthood on the other end of the phone, listening to me when I called the Women’s Clinic asking how I could find a doctor. ‘ I just moved here, and I work at a minimum wage job, and I lost my baby a month ago, but how do I get a post-partum exam when I don’t have a doctor, or any money, or insurance?’ I was very matter of fact about it, I mean this was my circumstance and what to do? She arranged a birth control exam because the state would pay for that, by a doctor who would give me the post-partum. She also referred me to a support group. I had been alone but she found me people who understood and could sympathize and help me accept grief. I look back on that now; there were no sign-carrying Christians or Churches arranging the adoption who helped me, she was the only one who cared.
Jan 29, 2013
Jan 29, 2013 at 2:36 AM UTC
it is past your curfew
and I can't stop thinking about you
I'm just here, sitting on my bed
reminiscing everything
the good and the bad
as I wait for you,
to finally come home
(samber)
May 28, 2015
May 28, 2015 at 1:01 PM UTC
The week has to have a weekend
Days have to have a tomorrow
And goodbye to yesterday’s/
In turns will bring the months to an end/
What do we have to face
moving forward setbacks and more
worried looks in the bystanders eyes..
When all is set and done, we have to say grace
We have to look up every morning and whisper to the skies.
The news broadcaster’s never speak of genuine love,
They only wishes to be littered,
While, begging folks to do their part
The cooing of the dark lonely dove
a symbol that there’s is no more love in ones heart
during the these stressful day/
Ten o’clock curfew at night,\/
Essentials workers must only be seen at dawn/
No more than ten to twelve people on sight/
And large outstanding gathering must be gone/
Black Friday’s deals, window shopping strolls
Everything seem on hold, the biggest black hole of 2020/
And nothing spoke to me: not even a 60 inch flatscreen TV/
Let’s take a page from the Jewish customs
Bury the dead in the next seventy two hours/
All November traditions is limit/
Thanksgiving Day a Tic, tok
All Saints Day, All Souls Day, Mischief Night, Bonfire Night
Once you take down the statues, of useless figures
Would History of the injustices will be erase/
Nov 22, 2020
Nov 22, 2020 at 6:58 AM UTC
Shoop, Shoop
***Shoe, *** ***
Shoop, Shoop
***Shoe, ***
The moment I laid eyes on you
I knew it was true love
You were sharing a root beer float with your friends
Down at the soda shop
I looked debonair in my Pompadour
You cute in your poodle skirt
I took out my comb to slick down the sides
As you smiled, giggled, and twirled
I asked if you'd like to go out
Just you and me on a date
I picked you up at seven o'clock
In my 56' Chevrolet
Your father gave me a stern look
Your mother a gleam in her eye
He asked where we were going
Why to church sir, I said with a smile
Shoop, Shoop
***Shoe, *** ***
Shoop, Shoop
***Shoe, ***
I took you to the drive in
Bobs Burgers and Late Night Shakes
Afterwards we both went dancing
At the Hop just down the street
You had my heart all in a flutter
As we slowed danced all night
It was then I knew for certain
That I would make you my lovely wife
I got you home way past your curfew
Your dads silhouette by the front door
You said I can't go back to that
I pressed the peddle to the floor
So here we are these many years later
Me as your husband you as my wife
With our grand kids playing about our feet
Thinking back to that fateful night
Shoop, Shoop
***Shoe, *** ***
Shoop, Shoop
***Shoe, ***
Dec 28, 2013
Dec 28, 2013 at 7:58 AM UTC
If men had a curfew lives would change in many ways
But there’s some setbacks to the attempt of fun outside
When I’m not with muscular friends past a certain time of day
I’m told to cover up my bra strap because the boys become distracted
Since “boys will be boys” reigns and girls pretend to be attracted
What if I could eat a burger in a bar without the need to feel guilty about my diet
And when I’m asked if I think I’m fat I say no, because it’s fishing for compliments to deny it
I’m told that I should be complacent and dress nice by a man three times my age
And scolded by society because it’s unladylike to be in a fit of rage
I could go outside and gaze at the dance the stars know so well
But I sing along with the peculiar song of that familiar cautionary bell
What if I could go out with friends past eight PM and explore the bright! Happy! world
Stagger through life in heels with our wit sharpened and eyelashes curled
No, I have to spend my time hidden “safe” inside
From men who think there’s no more to me than what they can see with the naked eye
This has happened ever since I turned the ripe old age of 13
Because there’s some people out there on the streets
Whom it would be an injustice to only be described as mean
I could walk out to my car without my hand poised with my keys as if they were a knife
And not have to worry about how a short low-cut dress could harm my life
(Me too) It could be worse! They say, for some reason with such force.
But since when was my safety
A cause for discourse?
Jan 29, 2019
Jan 29, 2019 at 8:03 PM UTC
There's nothing like a house full
when you're a single parent
and you'd think the mess you find you're in
would be a good deterrent
But there's nothing to compare
despite the tears and all the struggles
to everyday the love you have
and the kisses and the cuddles
And i'll say this from the start
there's no one else i'd rather be
and raise my kids alone
it's a job made just for me
And despite the sleepless nights
and the sticky fingerprints
and the ***** piles of washing
and the room that always stinks
There's a bundle of four children
who are as happy as can be
they really are a rabble
but I know that they love me
We've all been though some heartache
and quite traumatic things
but everyday is worth it
no matter what it brings
And even if the washing
is piled to the sky
and the dog wants to move out
though I can't imagine why
And the plugholes always blocked
and there's arguing afoot
and everyone got taller
from the last time that I looked
And they play on the same server
all laughing with each other
all in different bedrooms
two sisters and two brothers
You'd never know that last night
there was almost World War 3
and a hostage negotiation
over playing DayZ
But rules here must apply
there are chores and a curfew
a sense of order must be kept
even if you're 6 foot 2
I count my blessings as I go
and for each other we are glad
when you raise your kids alone
being both their Mum and Dad.
May 12, 2016
May 12, 2016 at 9:46 AM UTC