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"damnit" poems
This poem was written after watching a few hours of slam poetry on Youtube. Let me know what you think...it's my first shot at slam poetry. There are so many words flowing around out there about the big girls. The thick girls, the curvy girls, the p-h-a-t phat girls. About their plush and soft exteriors, their abundant backsides, their willingness to accept themselves and their hopefulness that others will do the same. Their….thereness. They are beautiful, don’t get me wrong. They are beautiful. But what about the skinny girls? The small girls with petite builds and large hearts and an aversion to the word short. The size two and under girls, the drive thru can’t gain a pound girls, the I AM NOT ANNOREXIC OR BULLEMIC girls. The girls who will always be referred to as “pixie-like” or “waif-like” or “twig-like.” The perfect model body girls that all of the other girls hate…because of their lack of fat. Aren’t they beautiful? The girls with the size 32 bust line, the girls who, at 24, still shop in the junior sections of department stores. The girls who, regardless of their age, their strengths and weaknesses, their experiences, heartaches and joys, disappointments and triumphs, their want or need for life and love will always look like they missed a meal or gave it back purposefully with the intent of becoming even thinner. The girls who, no matter how ******* HARD they try, cannot even weigh 100 lbs soaking ******* wet. Aren’t they beautiful? The big girls have to search and search for cute and **** and attractive clothes because of their size. Guess what? So do the skinny girls. Do you know ******* hard it is to find a pair of pants with a size zero waist and a 34 inch leg? To finally find an extra small shirt that doesn’t have one of the top three cartoon characters of the time plastered across the front? All I’m saying is yes, the thick girls, the curvy girls, the p-h-a-t phat girls… They are beautiful. But ****** so am I.
0
Dec 13, 2011
Dec 13, 2011 at 11:58 PM UTC
Skinny Girls
This poem was written after watching a few hours of slam poetry on Youtube. Let me know what you think...it's my first shot at slam poetry. There are so many words flowing around out there about the big girls. The thick girls, the curvy girls, the p-h-a-t phat girls. About their plush and soft exteriors, their abundant backsides, their willingness to accept themselves and their hopefulness that others will do the same. Their….thereness. They are beautiful, don’t get me wrong. They are beautiful. But what about the skinny girls? The small girls with petite builds and large hearts and an aversion to the word short. The size two and under girls, the drive thru can’t gain a pound girls, the I AM NOT ANNOREXIC OR BULLEMIC girls. The girls who will always be referred to as “pixie-like” or “waif-like” or “twig-like.” The perfect model body girls that all of the other girls hate…because of their lack of fat. Aren’t they beautiful? The girls with the size 32 bust line, the girls who, at 24, still shop in the junior sections of department stores. The girls who, regardless of their age, their strengths and weaknesses, their experiences, heartaches and joys, disappointments and triumphs, their want or need for life and love will always look like they missed a meal or gave it back purposefully with the intent of becoming even thinner. The girls who, no matter how ******* HARD they try, cannot even weigh 100 lbs soaking ******* wet. Aren’t they beautiful? The big girls have to search and search for cute and **** and attractive clothes because of their size. Guess what? So do the skinny girls. Do you know ******* hard it is to find a pair of pants with a size zero waist and a 34 inch leg? To finally find an extra small shirt that doesn’t have one of the top three cartoon characters of the time plastered across the front? All I’m saying is yes, the thick girls, the curvy girls, the p-h-a-t phat girls… They are beautiful. But ****** so am I.
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14
How do I ignore you when you're right next to me? God ****** we keep bumping elbows. I can't blast my music loud enough to tune out your presence.
0
Nov 14, 2014
Nov 14, 2014 at 10:39 AM UTC
Ignoring a presence.
A simple cafe The woman with the latte I see her Those peach pink lips Your jeans fadded blue Blonde curly hair Skin so fair Oh the things I would do Across the room Her Carmel colored skin Brown long hair Breast perked so Coke bottled body And you Oval shaped eyes Sun kissed freckles so fun sized Burgundy bleached hair Suckulant grape lips Thick curved waist Coffee hazeled eyes Eyes.... She pierced my sight I glanced back She knows I'm looking My deviant thoughts Tension rises Three seconds four and five I break contact I head to the door Stumble ****** She's at the door Our bodys touch "Hey do you dance" I so dance Respond "Yeah I do" " well you should meet my boyfriend He does to"
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Jun 1, 2014
Jun 1, 2014 at 5:46 AM UTC
the art of rejection
It’s been said that I couldn’t do it, Go without a nut till the end of December. The whispers growing louder as The bets are growing higher, Cause no one trust the line that Timur has given up the nut, Ah, let me check... yes From the mid of November. Am I crazy to play this game? Cause I’m as weak as any other man. And what can be better then a nut on A cold morning in mid of December? And oh my god there’s so many nuts, Of every shape, size and color But ****** I’m a man and I can Give up a nut till the end of December. But you better believe it That the day after The Cold Sad December, Your boy is going crazy to celebrate The End Of No Nut December.
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Nov 18, 2018
Nov 18, 2018 at 8:44 PM UTC
Till The End Of December
at first these four walls were closing in on me in the darkness limiting my air supply inch by inch ****** i should have taken comfort in that now im free falling nothing to hold, nothing to lean against air rushing into my lungs but nothing coming out **** i hope i dont hit rock bottom
0
Sep 19, 2014
Sep 19, 2014 at 11:26 PM UTC
darkness
God ****** God ****** God ****** depression is a ***** like why TF this **** gotta sneak up on me like this, **** I'mma go to bed and not sleep I guess I'll lay with my lonesome till 3am and listen to my heart beat while I think ignoring the voices in my head telling me things like i’d be better off dead like as if despite the fact I wish my ticker would stop ticking But it won't, I wish I could c u t my own heart out with a knife but that's sounds boring so I dont I wish a niger could cry a nigers burdens away but a.nigg*rs tear ducts are dry so I guess ill roll a joint and burn it away and then when I run out I'll break out the razors is in a slice in a way that will make the sane wonder how but what the **** is it to you who are you to say that I'm important to you who are you to say that I'm a lovely human being just ******* please, i didn't ask your assistance no offense just leave me to my being because I disagree I wish you would ask me if I thought that I was as important I wish you'd ask me if I thought I was lovely cuz I'd say no I'm autistic trash and to me that **** is ugly cuz despite what I can do I can't do most of it mother ****** I thought I was a man, well I guess I was born with most of it I just want to ******* die no letter no notes no reasons why cuz I told you when I told you then I told you again did you think that was a lie you must have presumed that it's a cry for attention are you out of your ******* mind don't worry its okay to make the jokes it doesn't hurt at all it's okay to mock me it doesn't phase a bit, but I guess you will you learn to shut your ******* mouth when you find my body its wrist slit but I guess it's kind of my fault because I smile every time they ask me if I'm fine god ****** god ****** god ****** Depression is a ***** like why the **** this **** got to sneak up on me like this
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May 6, 2017
May 6, 2017 at 3:42 PM UTC
depression is a *****
God ****** God ****** God ****** depression is a ***** like why TF this **** gotta sneak up on me like this, **** I'mma go to bed and not sleep I guess I'll lay with my lonesome till 3am and listen to my heart beat while I think ignoring the voices in my head telling me things like i’d be better off dead like as if despite the fact I wish my ticker would stop ticking But it won't, I wish I could c u t my own heart out with a knife but that's sounds boring so I dont I wish a niger could cry a nigers burdens away but a.nigg*rs tear ducts are dry so I guess ill roll a joint and burn it away and then when I run out I'll break out the razors is in a slice in a way that will make the sane wonder how but what the **** is it to you who are you to say that I'm important to you who are you to say that I'm a lovely human being just ******* please, i didn't ask your assistance no offense just leave me to my being because I disagree I wish you would ask me if I thought that I was as important I wish you'd ask me if I thought I was lovely cuz I'd say no I'm autistic trash and to me that **** is ugly cuz despite what I can do I can't do most of it mother ****** I thought I was a man, well I guess I was born with most of it I just want to ******* die no letter no notes no reasons why cuz I told you when I told you then I told you again did you think that was a lie you must have presumed that it's a cry for attention are you out of your ******* mind don't worry its okay to make the jokes it doesn't hurt at all it's okay to mock me it doesn't phase a bit, but I guess you will you learn to shut your ******* mouth when you find my body its wrist slit but I guess it's kind of my fault because I smile every time they ask me if I'm fine god ****** god ****** god ****** Depression is a ***** like why the **** this **** got to sneak up on me like this
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2
if i would be taller my life would be great but ****** im not and i need to lose weight the walls are so high and the world is so big i look to the sky as my friend smokes a cig id love to be 6 foot so my dreams can come true and if ur my mates ex ill be seeing u soon
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Sep 18, 2011
Sep 18, 2011 at 7:05 PM UTC
gnome
So! Just read me. go on Read me ****** Like my journal. which you took As if it were some book! Tore my soul down, from my secret shelf. I found it! where you left it. Spine cracked and pages missing. Forced to. reveal myself. So go on! theif go on.... Read me!
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Oct 17, 2014
Oct 17, 2014 at 3:30 AM UTC
Go on.....
I want cheesey garlic bread! alas, it's all that's in my head- and if lactose I could tolerate, this might not be such a debate. though I'm sure my body could conform, but it's taken this long to reform! from the **** and mucus that is dairy, that will surely turn your knuckles hairy. I'll eat a piece of gluten toast, for it only makes my tummy bloat, but from cheese I must stay far away, unless I want my **** to spray. it's a sign, I think, that my body rejects such a harmful product, my body protects but god ****** I want garlic bread, the cheesey kind, it's in my head...
0
Dec 11, 2012
Dec 11, 2012 at 1:30 AM UTC
I want cheesey garlic bread
Tomorrow morning they are going to take them, what am I going to do? He says it doesn’t matter to him, because I have a pretty face. In all the years we've been married, he’s never told me I had a pretty face. I don’t think he’s going to be able to handle this. Hell, I don’t think I'm going to be able to handle this. God ****** I am going to loose my hair, I am gonna loose my beautiful ******* hair, then everyone will know. People will put sanitizer on their hands after they shake mine. All my friends and family will treat me differently. They’ll feel sorry for me, they won’t know what to say. And then there’ll be those who will say too much, or the wrong thing. "I’ll pray for you", some will say, But I know what they are thinking, they think.... "that is what she gets for drinking her martinis and smoking her *** Some will even say it is God’s will. **** God! He is stealing my beauty, my wonderfully gorgeous **** my hair. They are a part of me. I don’t give a **** what a man thinks about my ******* that they are **** or voluptuous, they are a part of me. And now, like a side of beef, they are going to section me up and take them from me. What will they do with them? I mean after they biopsy. Can I have them to bury? Sorry, I know that wasn't necessary, but I am mad. I am mad and afraid, I am so afraid. I know my husband, he will never be the same. He doesn’t **** me with his eyes closed, my **** turn him on. But then any woman’s **** turn him on. When he reaches to touch them, there’ll be nothing there. I’ll look like a little boy, nothing. Maybe I have identified with them too much, I have made them a big part of my personality. I've fed my children with them, my boyfriends fought over them, they have got me into and out of trouble more than once. **** I am going to have to get a whole new wardrobe. And now, in the morning they are going to cut them off of me and put them in a stainless steel operating room bowl. Like chicken fat. Why do I feel like this, I didn’t cry when the dentist pulled my wisdom teeth? What if he told me I had to or else I would die, I’d pulled them myself? I trim my nails, and get my hair cut and dyed. I exfoliate my skin. I lost 10lbs last year and I didn’t shed one tear, my ******* will weigh more than that. But I am loosing something else, I am loosing normal. I'll have to find a new normal. I am loosing myself and replacing it with a different person. I’ll be one of them, I’ll be a survivor, a hero. I'll hold hands with other survivors and walk 10 miles and wear a **** load of pink. Hey, but I don't look too bad in pink. later this week a friend is going to have a double mastectomy.  These are just a few of the words I have collected from other breast cancer survivors. I had to do something for her. My hope is that we become more aware of the fear and pain that breast cancer victims go through.
0
Jun 2, 2013
Jun 2, 2013 at 4:12 PM UTC
Pink
Tomorrow morning they are going to take them, what am I going to do? He says it doesn’t matter to him, because I have a pretty face. In all the years we've been married, he’s never told me I had a pretty face. I don’t think he’s going to be able to handle this. Hell, I don’t think I'm going to be able to handle this. God ****** I am going to loose my hair, I am gonna loose my beautiful ******* hair, then everyone will know. People will put sanitizer on their hands after they shake mine. All my friends and family will treat me differently. They’ll feel sorry for me, they won’t know what to say. And then there’ll be those who will say too much, or the wrong thing. "I’ll pray for you", some will say, But I know what they are thinking, they think.... "that is what she gets for drinking her martinis and smoking her *** Some will even say it is God’s will. **** God! He is stealing my beauty, my wonderfully gorgeous **** my hair. They are a part of me. I don’t give a **** what a man thinks about my ******* that they are **** or voluptuous, they are a part of me. And now, like a side of beef, they are going to section me up and take them from me. What will they do with them? I mean after they biopsy. Can I have them to bury? Sorry, I know that wasn't necessary, but I am mad. I am mad and afraid, I am so afraid. I know my husband, he will never be the same. He doesn’t **** me with his eyes closed, my **** turn him on. But then any woman’s **** turn him on. When he reaches to touch them, there’ll be nothing there. I’ll look like a little boy, nothing. Maybe I have identified with them too much, I have made them a big part of my personality. I've fed my children with them, my boyfriends fought over them, they have got me into and out of trouble more than once. **** I am going to have to get a whole new wardrobe. And now, in the morning they are going to cut them off of me and put them in a stainless steel operating room bowl. Like chicken fat. Why do I feel like this, I didn’t cry when the dentist pulled my wisdom teeth? What if he told me I had to or else I would die, I’d pulled them myself? I trim my nails, and get my hair cut and dyed. I exfoliate my skin. I lost 10lbs last year and I didn’t shed one tear, my ******* will weigh more than that. But I am loosing something else, I am loosing normal. I'll have to find a new normal. I am loosing myself and replacing it with a different person. I’ll be one of them, I’ll be a survivor, a hero. I'll hold hands with other survivors and walk 10 miles and wear a **** load of pink. Hey, but I don't look too bad in pink. later this week a friend is going to have a double mastectomy.  These are just a few of the words I have collected from other breast cancer survivors. I had to do something for her. My hope is that we become more aware of the fear and pain that breast cancer victims go through.
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63
The boy inside my head remembers the girl inside yours. He wants to tell you that he still loves you...that he'll love you forever. He wants to tell you he's trapped and all alone. He sits in his cell scratching the days onto the wall. He draws pictures of your face and imagines holding your hand. If he ever gets to talk to you again, he pictures what he'd say... He would do anything for you to give him another chance. He knows he's a boy and he wishes he didn't have to be. But that boy inside his head didn't get a say on if he got to be a boy or not. He wishes that you'd open yourself up to let him care for you again. He wishes that you'd let yourself be the reason that he lives again. He wishes a lot. He wishes too much. He fears none of them won't come true but he can't stop because it keeps him alive. He envisions that chance. That he would take it slow and show you his love. That it would be the deepest display of emotion ever to come from him. He knows all too well you're not fond of boys- he's almost sorry he is one. But he loves you. He loves you so much. You're so beautiful to him. A beautiful person, not a beautiful girl. He misses you. He misses you so much. The world stops when you hug him. His heart flutters just thinking about it, still. You're heavenly to him. You took him places he'd never been before. Places he may never be again. You see, he wishes he could put into words for you, the feeling... He never needed anything more than your cuddles and hugs. Like a living, breathing, soft and loving security blanket, you were... Nothing in his life ever more peaceful than your arms or the touch of your lips. He never needed sex...please don't make it about *** What he really needed was you. He prays to a God he no longer believes in that maybe he could have a reason to believe again. He loves you, Elizabeth Raine. He loves you so **** much. He knows that's not enough. He will never be enough. You were once the reason he lived... You're now the reason he wants to die. You dumped him like utter trash and he still couldn't get over you. You said things that ripped out his soul. Acted like he had no soul to begin with... But ****** he loved you. He loves you. Like he promised, he always will. Your girly parts play no part. He wishes you'd understand how much deeper this is than that. How much you mean to him. How much you'll always mean to him, how you'll always be his sweet girl. At least, how he wishes you'd be his sweet girl once more. He wishes he could show you...that he could find a way. Tears roll down his face like the first rain of May. He just wants to be enough to experience heaven one more time... I'm afraid to inform him that heaven's long gone... Its not even in existence to experience anymore... But he'd **** himself...I can't push myself to let him know... He bought a ticket to hell.
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May 5, 2014
May 5, 2014 at 4:21 AM UTC
One Last Chance
The boy inside my head remembers the girl inside yours. He wants to tell you that he still loves you...that he'll love you forever. He wants to tell you he's trapped and all alone. He sits in his cell scratching the days onto the wall. He draws pictures of your face and imagines holding your hand. If he ever gets to talk to you again, he pictures what he'd say... He would do anything for you to give him another chance. He knows he's a boy and he wishes he didn't have to be. But that boy inside his head didn't get a say on if he got to be a boy or not. He wishes that you'd open yourself up to let him care for you again. He wishes that you'd let yourself be the reason that he lives again. He wishes a lot. He wishes too much. He fears none of them won't come true but he can't stop because it keeps him alive. He envisions that chance. That he would take it slow and show you his love. That it would be the deepest display of emotion ever to come from him. He knows all too well you're not fond of boys- he's almost sorry he is one. But he loves you. He loves you so much. You're so beautiful to him. A beautiful person, not a beautiful girl. He misses you. He misses you so much. The world stops when you hug him. His heart flutters just thinking about it, still. You're heavenly to him. You took him places he'd never been before. Places he may never be again. You see, he wishes he could put into words for you, the feeling... He never needed anything more than your cuddles and hugs. Like a living, breathing, soft and loving security blanket, you were... Nothing in his life ever more peaceful than your arms or the touch of your lips. He never needed sex...please don't make it about *** What he really needed was you. He prays to a God he no longer believes in that maybe he could have a reason to believe again. He loves you, Elizabeth Raine. He loves you so **** much. He knows that's not enough. He will never be enough. You were once the reason he lived... You're now the reason he wants to die. You dumped him like utter trash and he still couldn't get over you. You said things that ripped out his soul. Acted like he had no soul to begin with... But ****** he loved you. He loves you. Like he promised, he always will. Your girly parts play no part. He wishes you'd understand how much deeper this is than that. How much you mean to him. How much you'll always mean to him, how you'll always be his sweet girl. At least, how he wishes you'd be his sweet girl once more. He wishes he could show you...that he could find a way. Tears roll down his face like the first rain of May. He just wants to be enough to experience heaven one more time... I'm afraid to inform him that heaven's long gone... Its not even in existence to experience anymore... But he'd **** himself...I can't push myself to let him know... He bought a ticket to hell.
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51
Aren't we going to be late for the dentist? What are mom and dad talking about on the phone? Why is Dad swearing so much? How come we can't go to my dentist appointment anymore? What's on TV? .. Why is that building falling? Why aren't the news reporters talking? Why is dad crying? "Why won't you let me watch the TV, dad?" Am I supposed to be crying? What's happening to us? Why is everything bad? How did we let this happen? Why does everyone hate everyone? ------ Why would she call me while she's at work? Doesn't she know we're going to the dentist? "What?" Why would she joke about this? Why is she crying if she's joking? ... Why is that building falling? Dear god how did this happen? ****** why am I crying? Are those people jumping out of windows? Why are they killing themselves? Someone will save them, right? Why is my daughter still watching this? Why am I watching this? How could someone do this? Jesus, is that a second airplane? How many people will they save? How many will die?
0
Feb 15, 2015
Feb 15, 2015 at 6:44 PM UTC
A Five-Year-Old's Dentist Appointment
i still remember my shaken up nerves, and god my shaking body, after our lips pressed against each other's for the first time. still, months later, my hands tremble when you reach for mine and ****** i can't help but kiss you and taste the names of our unborn children we've named, along with the rest of the plans i swore for you to never make with me. and it's crazy (or maybe i am) because i find myself wishing on 11:11, AM and PM, for "i do" to someday be exchanged between us two. my mother always warned me about the boys with soft eyes and sugared words, but never did she warn me about the girl with long hair and cold hands.
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Oct 7, 2014
Oct 7, 2014 at 10:35 PM UTC
sappy lover
To Bailey What up cousin? It’s been a while since we’ve spoken.. I’ve been tryin to keep my mind focused and stayin open.. tryin to figure out how to rebuild my heart again now that it’s broken.. hopin and prayin to some god that it’s all a dream an I’ll be awoken.. But I’m not an ignorant or irrational man, so it’s back to life as I know it.. now I sit here with pen in hand, talking to another lost loved one as a poet.. god **** every time it seems to get a little harder and harder to be stoic.. I do it for you, but my choice would have been to find a rock and hide far below it.. But I’ve held you down, an showed the world a face with a sculpted smile.. Meanwhile inside I strong armed my stomach to prevent the expulsion of bile.. mind racing, god ****** Just 29 years is nowhere near a long enough while!! and to think, you barely even got to spend 3 of those with your child.. It makes me want to shout to the stars and curse our own existence.. I guess I learned I can’t box god due to something about my arms and the distance.. so I’ve given up being angry about it and stopped my resistance.. but the one thing it’s affected more than any other is my persistence.. From time to time I’m gonna ask someone “has anyone told you they loved you today?” and if they say no, I’ll be the first person to show them a sincere display… YOU taught me that bailey, and no matter what, I’ll never let it slip away… I can’t thank you enough for your life, I wouldn’t even know how to repay! It’s those small perfect lessons we can all take from your life… I couldn’t even begin to tell them all in the course of one night… you were an amazing person to anyone who met you, a true delight.. people called you a shiner, a catalyst, a loving father, and a white knight… everyone had a story of how you had given them inspiration.. I can’t thank you enough on behalf of the world for your donations! I’m glad I could finally write this letter to show my appreciation.. the words had been escaping me with some trepidation.. I love you Bailey, always have and always will!! I can’t believe you’re gone but I carry on still… I soldier up when I need to then settle down to chill… I’ll see you when I see you, you know the drill… Rest In Peace: Bailey Paul McKeon-Phillips
0
Aug 7, 2010
Aug 7, 2010 at 2:57 PM UTC
To my cousin Bailey... RIP
To Bailey What up cousin? It’s been a while since we’ve spoken.. I’ve been tryin to keep my mind focused and stayin open.. tryin to figure out how to rebuild my heart again now that it’s broken.. hopin and prayin to some god that it’s all a dream an I’ll be awoken.. But I’m not an ignorant or irrational man, so it’s back to life as I know it.. now I sit here with pen in hand, talking to another lost loved one as a poet.. god **** every time it seems to get a little harder and harder to be stoic.. I do it for you, but my choice would have been to find a rock and hide far below it.. But I’ve held you down, an showed the world a face with a sculpted smile.. Meanwhile inside I strong armed my stomach to prevent the expulsion of bile.. mind racing, god ****** Just 29 years is nowhere near a long enough while!! and to think, you barely even got to spend 3 of those with your child.. It makes me want to shout to the stars and curse our own existence.. I guess I learned I can’t box god due to something about my arms and the distance.. so I’ve given up being angry about it and stopped my resistance.. but the one thing it’s affected more than any other is my persistence.. From time to time I’m gonna ask someone “has anyone told you they loved you today?” and if they say no, I’ll be the first person to show them a sincere display… YOU taught me that bailey, and no matter what, I’ll never let it slip away… I can’t thank you enough for your life, I wouldn’t even know how to repay! It’s those small perfect lessons we can all take from your life… I couldn’t even begin to tell them all in the course of one night… you were an amazing person to anyone who met you, a true delight.. people called you a shiner, a catalyst, a loving father, and a white knight… everyone had a story of how you had given them inspiration.. I can’t thank you enough on behalf of the world for your donations! I’m glad I could finally write this letter to show my appreciation.. the words had been escaping me with some trepidation.. I love you Bailey, always have and always will!! I can’t believe you’re gone but I carry on still… I soldier up when I need to then settle down to chill… I’ll see you when I see you, you know the drill… Rest In Peace: Bailey Paul McKeon-Phillips
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34
Dear Uncle Tom, You have disguised yourself well. For a moment, I didn't even recognize you. Perhaps when you put on that suit, you too, Forget that your reflection is a sad black man. At first I was mad, Uncle, I thought how could you To see you spout the lies of people who held, Your own family down. Oh Uncle, I was so mad. Denying your flesh, for a seat at the table. But then I was sad, Uncle, so sad for you. I really don't think you get it, or at least I hope. Perhaps you suckled on ignorance and the ways Of the world robbed you. Stole away your kindness I really hope you'll change, because you are family. But once you sold us out, I almost filled with rage And to tell me you're proud I fight, and to undo The work we've done. ****** I don't understand. You have to see it someday, the way they call you Names. Treating you like an animal, no matter what Suit you fawn. They look to you and use you. As weapons against your blood. Such a shame. Well best regards Uncle, Maybe one day you'll change. Sincerely, The ones you left behind
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Dec 2, 2016
Dec 2, 2016 at 10:51 AM UTC
Dear Uncle Tom
god ****** she misses you and god ****** i miss you and im sorry, god, for swearing but i have run out of ideas on how to make this no good shapeshifting warm handed boy notice me remember when he said i love you this is not a goodbye you don't deserve one this is not a plea for help see previous poems, twitter, my wrists, etc this is not a romanticization of your destructive ways and i no longer hear birds sing when you torch cities and i can't bring myself to see the love in your inferno so what the hell do i have left to say to you i once wrote that you left love letters on my tongue and that you made drowning fun but i have come to the conclusion that those are both in fact lies and that the only thing you left on my tongue is the bitter taste of your name and beer and that drowning is ******* terrible and so are you i remind myself everyday that you must have been a good person somewhere along the way and that there must have been some point where you actually did miss the feeling of my skin and that i was the only one you cared for- but i must also remember the day you filled my vacancy and turned on the lights and i still see you in the smiling pictures hung on the walls like your head in the hall whenever i pass by and i remember the day you moved out and on to nicer things and to this day you have succeeded in making the whole thing feel like an eviction, like it was me that wanted you gone and my peeling wallpaper has since revealed that the only thing holding me together was you funny how every part of this poem ends with you and funny how every thought these days ends with you and it's funny how when things ended with you you were the only one laughing this is not a cry or a plea or an appology this is a eulogy from me to you and i will not waste any more metaphors or adjectives or nights where i should be fast asleep on your whirlpool eyes and twisted smile you once said, at 3 am, "you know when you're as close to loving someone as physically possible without actually saying it?" and i replied with "yes" and i love you i love you i love you i hope flowers grow from your rotting heart and i hope you wake up some life and feel just a hint of remorse as you look into her eyes i'm not a poet and you're not a nice boy and there was a time when i would devote my life to writing about the way you touched my cheek and you would devote your life to exploring the small of my back that life has ended and i hope she holds you close enough at night (my own hands will find comfort in the folds you left unnoticed and i will let myself hear the whispers of flattery upon every surface i touch. i will love myself and i will learn to not love you and i will find someone that i can love without pushing myself aside)
0
Oct 11, 2014
Oct 11, 2014 at 9:02 PM UTC
a eulogy to the golden boy
god ****** she misses you and god ****** i miss you and im sorry, god, for swearing but i have run out of ideas on how to make this no good shapeshifting warm handed boy notice me remember when he said i love you this is not a goodbye you don't deserve one this is not a plea for help see previous poems, twitter, my wrists, etc this is not a romanticization of your destructive ways and i no longer hear birds sing when you torch cities and i can't bring myself to see the love in your inferno so what the hell do i have left to say to you i once wrote that you left love letters on my tongue and that you made drowning fun but i have come to the conclusion that those are both in fact lies and that the only thing you left on my tongue is the bitter taste of your name and beer and that drowning is ******* terrible and so are you i remind myself everyday that you must have been a good person somewhere along the way and that there must have been some point where you actually did miss the feeling of my skin and that i was the only one you cared for- but i must also remember the day you filled my vacancy and turned on the lights and i still see you in the smiling pictures hung on the walls like your head in the hall whenever i pass by and i remember the day you moved out and on to nicer things and to this day you have succeeded in making the whole thing feel like an eviction, like it was me that wanted you gone and my peeling wallpaper has since revealed that the only thing holding me together was you funny how every part of this poem ends with you and funny how every thought these days ends with you and it's funny how when things ended with you you were the only one laughing this is not a cry or a plea or an appology this is a eulogy from me to you and i will not waste any more metaphors or adjectives or nights where i should be fast asleep on your whirlpool eyes and twisted smile you once said, at 3 am, "you know when you're as close to loving someone as physically possible without actually saying it?" and i replied with "yes" and i love you i love you i love you i hope flowers grow from your rotting heart and i hope you wake up some life and feel just a hint of remorse as you look into her eyes i'm not a poet and you're not a nice boy and there was a time when i would devote my life to writing about the way you touched my cheek and you would devote your life to exploring the small of my back that life has ended and i hope she holds you close enough at night (my own hands will find comfort in the folds you left unnoticed and i will let myself hear the whispers of flattery upon every surface i touch. i will love myself and i will learn to not love you and i will find someone that i can love without pushing myself aside)
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15
Melatonin is a conduit, a flux for regeneration; an endocrine neurohormone that really only likes to secrete when the Eyes are not stimulated; that is to say Sleep and Meditation in this way are Medicine of the Body. Sleep more; ****** Self! Sleep more. If not, at least Meditate more.
0
May 8, 2013
May 8, 2013 at 7:59 AM UTC
Melatonin the Healer
so you're dying. I don't want to believe it, even though, I see it. I see it in the agony of your smile and how much it hurts you to do so. I see it in your shortness of breath, with the weakening of your step; but the strength has not left. That blasted leukemia, why not somebody else? Someone who doesn't give a **** about their health. It's unfair. Seeing you there. Chemo after chemo one transfusion after the next, your body is giving up, the ability to heal has dissipated, although your spirit has illuminated, ****** you gave it your best! Don't ever stop breathing, please just take a breath. Don't ever stop breathing. Don't. Ever. Stop.
0
Jun 26, 2014
Jun 26, 2014 at 11:13 AM UTC
a world of denial
She tells me of the loves she's found She tells of the loves she's lost And I linger to fix her broken wings At, I wonder, what cost So that she might go out with confidence To find heartbreak again It matters not, I've not forgot That I am still her friend That I am still her leaning post That I am her safety net Each night she goes whilst I stay And each day she pours her regrets Into my brain, Into my soul So I might empathize And I sit there stroking her hair And what she doesn't realize Is that I know her favorite color is yellow That her favorite song is "Almost Lover" That she went through a pregnancy scare And a fight with her dad from which she'll never recover That she giggles without fail whenever someone say "flabberghasted" And I know that she's had only five boyfriends None of which that have lasted I know she sings inside the shower Even though she may deny it I know she snores and drools on her pillow And that she prays someday Krispy Kreme doughnuts will come diet I know that she cries whenever she thinks too much That she looks forward to marriage The feeling of her husband's touch And someday a baby in a carriage And I know more than most about this girl The one with her head on my lap The one who's silent every time she cries Yet is snorting every time she laughs But here I sit with her alone Barred from going any farther than friend The girl whose afraid to lose me Who torments me without end The one who hinders my love for her And therefore invokes my selfishness Running on my brain in steel cletes While I feign happiness So pause time Because my words for her are unheard and few A chance is all I'd ask of her to show both my love and dedication are true And yet she stands in fear of not losing me But of getting in the deep end of the pool And thus lies the complex irony And why in life I play the fool For I am the love of her life that has been there And in heartbreak or joy, I'm all in Yet because of fear I stay a friend Ending where love should begin
0
Sep 19, 2012
Sep 19, 2012 at 9:38 AM UTC
Just Friends ******
She tells me of the loves she's found She tells of the loves she's lost And I linger to fix her broken wings At, I wonder, what cost So that she might go out with confidence To find heartbreak again It matters not, I've not forgot That I am still her friend That I am still her leaning post That I am her safety net Each night she goes whilst I stay And each day she pours her regrets Into my brain, Into my soul So I might empathize And I sit there stroking her hair And what she doesn't realize Is that I know her favorite color is yellow That her favorite song is "Almost Lover" That she went through a pregnancy scare And a fight with her dad from which she'll never recover That she giggles without fail whenever someone say "flabberghasted" And I know that she's had only five boyfriends None of which that have lasted I know she sings inside the shower Even though she may deny it I know she snores and drools on her pillow And that she prays someday Krispy Kreme doughnuts will come diet I know that she cries whenever she thinks too much That she looks forward to marriage The feeling of her husband's touch And someday a baby in a carriage And I know more than most about this girl The one with her head on my lap The one who's silent every time she cries Yet is snorting every time she laughs But here I sit with her alone Barred from going any farther than friend The girl whose afraid to lose me Who torments me without end The one who hinders my love for her And therefore invokes my selfishness Running on my brain in steel cletes While I feign happiness So pause time Because my words for her are unheard and few A chance is all I'd ask of her to show both my love and dedication are true And yet she stands in fear of not losing me But of getting in the deep end of the pool And thus lies the complex irony And why in life I play the fool For I am the love of her life that has been there And in heartbreak or joy, I'm all in Yet because of fear I stay a friend Ending where love should begin
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54
even as the night turns to day and all my sorrows have been washed away i still miss you there are days when i'm fine and days when i'm in a haze but it can all be summed up by one phrase i still miss you my poetry grows sadder as the months drag on it's on to get a grip on the fact that you're really gone i still miss you i want you back, as selfish as it may seem without my daddy here i've lost any trace of self-esteem god ****** i still miss you i know that i will see again but until that day i have to keep asking my 'when?' until the day i know die i know that i'll always miss you
0
Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 8:01 AM UTC
I still miss you
Have I got a story for you? Let me tell you about this pursue Ms. Piggy and ****** hooked up They went out on a date However the Chef suggested that Ms. Piggy should be on a plate ****** explained to the Chef Ms. Piggy was his date Ms. Piggy responded to the Chef, “Are you sure you can relate as I am Ms. Piggy and you are not Pretty Ricky” The Chef then dashed away Ms. Piggy and ****** continued on having their togetherness in say Ms. Piggy wanted a little wine with her dine But ****** had something else in mine Well Ms. Piggy got a little tipsy She was acting more like the Queen of the Gypsies Ms. Piggy started drinking out of her shoe ****** felt like Ms. Piggy was turning him into stew The music was playing and Ms. Piggy demanded a dance ****** wanted to hook up in a romance Ms. Piggy was so drunk Her mind must was on stomp Later Ms. Piggy called ****** a chump That is when the fight broke out Ms. Piggy and ****** began to shout Dancing became in your face Ms. Piggy’s anger I can’t erase The whole evening became a date from hell in the trace Ms. Piggy told ****** she was an important lady ****** shouted, “Only maybe baby” Ms. Piggy told ****** good-bye ****** went his way in comply.
0
Apr 11, 2014
Apr 11, 2014 at 6:53 PM UTC
MS. PIGGY AND BEAU ****** A COUPLE OF WONDER
I watched him sneer at his plan gone a-rye he was uptight and outspoken; the worst kind as the ribbons tore and frayed he gritted his teeth until it was too much and he lunged at the young man, grabbed him by the throat while screaming "IV'E HAD IT GOD ****** "I'VE HAD IT WITH YOU MANGY ******* many years later I saw the uptight outspoken man on a street corner, laughing at clouds
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Jan 18, 2014
Jan 18, 2014 at 7:58 PM UTC
Upright and Outspoken
the more i try the more it just feels false my words come out and just like that I freeze- i regret what I say and keep silent around everyone then the silence catches up with me and infiltrates my mind why did i speak why did i have to be me, what is it about my existence that makes life so ******* difficult to to speak to think to form a sentence or two why is something so simple so complex you have kind eyes i’m not saying anything more except that’s that’s what attracted me - not in a romantic way or any way at all just a friendly way i guess, so some sort of way it turns out, a really random way or completely accidental or oops there goes my mind again but i can’t help it when there’s someone new who tolerates me to the point of tears then drops me on my *** and forgets i’m even here i dont trust very easily but i want to trust you, my eyes want to cry and my mouth wants to speak but see what happens when the two collide? this. this is what happens and this is how i lose people and this is how i live because i’m afraid of being left behind or disliked because it’s not every day someone with kind eyes shares an ounce of of their kindness by looking into my own kind eyes dear god please don’t **** this up i know i’m an atheist but ****** atheists have some kind ******* eyes
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Oct 31, 2016
Oct 31, 2016 at 9:24 PM UTC
fears of an annoyance
i've had a good day remembered to water my plants drank two cups of coffee didn't feel the irrepressible need to scream at my family drowned in a stranger's spaghetti *(okay so maybe i could have lived without the whole swimming through pasta it starts to wrap around and choke you after awhile)* found out that apparently i'm the nicest person at work because i'm the only one who doesn't want to throw karen out the picture window *(i mean i do i just don't admit it because that would be mean.)* i kept looking up to the bells on the door remembering yesterday when i saw the face of one of the dearest ladies i've ever known *(i don't know if she saw me)* and then for some reason she turned directly around and rushed down the front steps and didn't come back in maybe it wasn't her maybe an emergency but the question's eating at me. slipping back and forth here and there into the mindset that maybe i owe it to them *(i don't want to go anywhere on monday nights but i don't want to tell you that)* then hitting myself in the head because what have i been saying so long? **i don't owe anybody anything.** i've had a good day or a day that wasn't bad *(just tied my spine into knots and i tried the downward dog but the dog knocked me down)* so i'm not sure why the veins in my arms are aching and the muscles in my elbows compressing as if even like i'm not brutally aware that my wrists are not currently available for extended slitting so i don't know why they're so upset then again i don't know why i'm so upset either i mean i've had a good day ******
0
Aug 24, 2016
Aug 24, 2016 at 8:31 AM UTC
upset
i've had a good day remembered to water my plants drank two cups of coffee didn't feel the irrepressible need to scream at my family drowned in a stranger's spaghetti *(okay so maybe i could have lived without the whole swimming through pasta it starts to wrap around and choke you after awhile)* found out that apparently i'm the nicest person at work because i'm the only one who doesn't want to throw karen out the picture window *(i mean i do i just don't admit it because that would be mean.)* i kept looking up to the bells on the door remembering yesterday when i saw the face of one of the dearest ladies i've ever known *(i don't know if she saw me)* and then for some reason she turned directly around and rushed down the front steps and didn't come back in maybe it wasn't her maybe an emergency but the question's eating at me. slipping back and forth here and there into the mindset that maybe i owe it to them *(i don't want to go anywhere on monday nights but i don't want to tell you that)* then hitting myself in the head because what have i been saying so long? **i don't owe anybody anything.** i've had a good day or a day that wasn't bad *(just tied my spine into knots and i tried the downward dog but the dog knocked me down)* so i'm not sure why the veins in my arms are aching and the muscles in my elbows compressing as if even like i'm not brutally aware that my wrists are not currently available for extended slitting so i don't know why they're so upset then again i don't know why i'm so upset either i mean i've had a good day ******
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100
I'm getting desperate cuz I'm getting distant. The royal coachmen is the trailer park I used to live in. Pinecones, stray cats and the candy man. In the kitchen I dug a hole for a mouse to live in.   For God's sake momma, could you puke a little quieter, don't let dad know you're sick cuz this house isn't a home when you're gone. Cold mornings Scooby doo blankets and hospital beds. Dad tells me mom is sick again. The hospital is no place to live in. God ****** dad step up, make this a place to live in. At 5 years old, my momma asks her momma to move in. I'm getting distant cuz I'm getting desperate. A little town named Charleston. When you walk up the side walk and you see the willow, just know it's weeping because it's heard everything.   Just to let you know there's a piece of glass in the side walk, not diamond. I know that cuz I bent too many butter knives trying to make a fortune. Yellow walls, barn cats and god. It took me 12 years to find somewhere to believe in.
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Nov 29, 2014
Nov 29, 2014 at 3:11 AM UTC
The mouse never moved in.