"dated" poems
we are always asked
to understand the other person's
viewpoint
no matter how
out-dated
foolish or
obnoxious.
one is asked
to view
their total error
their life-waste
with
kindliness,
especially if they are
aged.
but age is the total of
our doing.
they have aged
badly
because they have
lived
out of focus,
they have refused to
see.
not their fault?
whose fault?
mine?
I am asked to hide
my viewpoint
from them
for fear of their
fear.
age is no crime
but the shame
of a deliberately
wasted
life
among so many
deliberately
wasted
lives
is.
62.2k
Who Am I?
Well,
I must be
that ******
the one
in the black hoodie
***** sweatpants
and an uncombed eye,
that's always wooly
scratchy,
bloodshot
with searching for
my stash spot,
that ******
in your peripherals
that you keep your eye on
because he's
not
in a polo
looking nice,
talking
"well-spoken"
and
not
a threat
to your beautiful
lily-white daughter.
Because I grew up
fixing myself
ramen noodles
and
lifting the welcome mat
after school,
I must also be
that ******
whose father wasn't
in the same house
until he was age 13,
and when I tell you that,
you weren't expecting it
because "you're not a racist."
but
you weren't surprised.
You see,
I must be
that ******
a stand-in
for all other *******
I must be that ******
who represents
all *******
not because you are racist,
but because I'm the only
******
you've met
who doesn't talk like
dis, y'know whatmsayin,
and i talk like
this, do you know what I'm saying?
I must be that ******
In order for you
to feel okay
being around me
I must be that ******
who goes to college
does the right
thing
the white thing
and gets a job
a nice little house,
a nice black wife
with a nice
new england
clear
dialect,
(what I was
trying to get at
earlier
is that ****** dialects,
by their mere intonation,
denote stupidity,
right?)
and doesn't say a word
when his white friends
make ****** jokes
or talk in a ****** dialect
mocking some Aunt Jemima
they heard at Walmart.
But,
I also must be that ******
who doesn't step out of line
and say
"WHY IS IT
THAT IN EVERY SINGLE
ENGLISH CLASS
WE READ
ONLY
TWO
BLACK AUTHORS
A SEMESTER,
AND THAT'S
ENOUGH,
JUST ENOUGH
TO KEEP THE
****** PARENTS
HAPPY."
And If I happen to be a ******
I,
by all means,
must not be that ******
who had a white girlfriend,
and
this girlfriend
after dating
a ******
tried to date a white guy
she liked,
and when she told him
that she had dated,
loved,
and yes,
******
a ******
he had said back:
"I can't believe
you ****** a ******
Then again,
I must be that ******
with the big swinging ****
able to destroy
a white girl's ******
with its pulverizing
power.
And,
please,
If I am going to be a ******
don't be the one
who writes a poem
about
having to be
that ******
because those
kinds of *******
are being
over-sensitive,
those dashiki-wearing-motherfuckers
who think
"Da white man dis."
and "Da white man dat."
Because
I am not one of those *******
descended from the first people on earth,
your brother,
not in the ****** way,
but the familial,
species way.
Why am I even writing
this, ****** isn't a main operative
word anymore.
Search and find ******
and
replace with
"Black Guy." That way it becomes
a joke.
Nov 30, 2011
Nov 30, 2011 at 7:22 AM UTC
don't add me into your life,
just to subtract me out, alright?
please don't divide my heart in half,
just to walk away and laugh,
don't try to solve me like an algebraic equation,
unless you're patient,
if not,
you might as well give up and go on vacation,
i'm too complicated,
you can go and ask all the past guys i've dated,
you may be smart math boy,
but trust me,
i'm smarter than all of your other toys.
Jun 9, 2016
Jun 9, 2016 at 6:47 PM UTC
Just a quiet woman polished bright by nerves,
I once felt wild for dipping my hair in purple.
Noticing, my hairdresser asked if I had anyone special.
I dated a man with a good job
who liked museums.
We saw a drunk girl in a leather skirt-
heels hobbling down cobblestone,
her bird-arm linked through a friend’s.
He rolled his eyes:
_would you go out wearing skirts like that?_
On the dating app I’d written:
loves dogs, drinks champagne from paper cups.
It wasn’t a lie, but I am such a liar.
I told him yes,
because I needed his reaction,
his self-corrected mind,
though I’ve never worn one.
I say I’m fine with whatever,
or this is stupid,
but truthfully
I’m afraid I’m only a very nice lady,
soft in the hands of whoever will take me.
I carry anger like a weak religion-
a god I light candles for twice a year,
more symbol than practice.
I’ve heard of burying St. Joseph upside down
to sell a house. But there’s no charm,
no saint, for loosening the knots I keep tied.
I want to keep the bright mess of my dog heart,
mud-spattered, mulch-snuffling,
faithful to its own scent,
while crows, squirrels, and the occasional fox
paw through the dirt
for what they almost forgot.
Aug 15, 2025
Aug 15, 2025 at 8:33 PM UTC
12-
I dated a boy because it made me feel prettier than the rest of the girls,
I didn't want to kiss him because I was afraid I wouldn't know how,
I was eventually pressured into it,
13-
I didn't feel worthy of flirting with boys because I wasn't pretty,
I didn't know how to make boys like me,
14-
I dated a boy because I was insecure,
I thought he could make it better,
I wouldn't make out with him because I didn't know how,
I didn't want to be judged on my ****** experience so I broke up with him,
15-
I still liked that boy,
I often hooked up with him and began getting more comfortable with him,
But I wouldn't go under the belt because I didn't know how,
16-
I finally felt much more comfortable,
I didn't like him anymore but he was patient and I enjoyed being with him,
I opened up to him sexually because I wasn't as afraid anymore,
17-
I lost everything to that boy,
The one on the football team,
I didn't think I was special but I didn't think it would hurt that bad, I then discovered what it's like to be with a man who cares,
I finally felt safe
I was very late doing many things because I was afraid I could not please a man,
Because I grew up believing that if you cannot please a man you don't deserve to be pleased yourself,
Because men dominate the earth,
Because men are the all powerful,
But I have yet to find a man who can please me
May 1, 2014
May 1, 2014 at 9:24 PM UTC
No legacy is as rich as honesty to leave behind
No asset is as great as honesty that enriches mind
No voice is as powerful as honesty,your heart to guide
No word is as meaningful as honesty to swell with pride.
One who adheres to principle and facts , is honest
One who loves for-what-than-who-you are , is honest
One who inspires to be fearless and upfront , is honest
One who dares to raise voice against injustice, is honest
In actions ,words and dealings -be clear and transparent
Corruption,bribery,flattery and nepotism-be always against
Greats endure pain to follow righteousness,however difficult
On life’s tight walk ,do not crave to strike rich without sweat.
Win over lies,deceit ,treachery with love,respect and fair play
Honesty is a jewel that shines-shines brighter,rest fades away
Honesty is a bitter pill to gulp,gulp you must to lead the way
Quality than Quantity of life matters most,at the end of the day.
A child should be taught to be honest at a very early age
Set an example by emoting honesty at every step and stage
Honesty instils compassion ,concern,credibility and courage
It is a virtue that differentiates between a devil and a sage.
Stakes may be high ,don’t ever compromise on values
A Right can never ever be Wrong ,however one views
Forever under HIS scanner,keep hands clean and heart true (HIS ...GOD)
Give best to the humanity the best will come back to you.
(C) Bhargavi Ravindra ...........B’lore
Dated : 09/05/2019
Oct 11, 2019
Oct 11, 2019 at 7:13 AM UTC
Who gives a rats ***
If you prefer a **** in your ***
Or your **** rubbing against another
When did sexuality matter
I've seen the red of their veins
Pour out just as quickly as mine
I've watched as they understood love
Fat better than I could ever hope to achieve
Yet she can't marry her
Or he can't be seen with him
Holding hands an kissing
Hell I'll hug a gay man quicker than my brother
I'll flirt with a lesbian
Even though we both know
I'm going nowhere
It was never about who they dated
Who they decided to fall in love with
The only thing that mattered to me
An will ever matter
Is how they can show me what love is
What holding someone important to them
Really looks like
What everybody else thinks
Is just a matter of opinion
I don't give a ****
I can call a gay guy queer
I can call a lesbian a ****
And they'll smile with pride
They know who they are
What they are
And we're the aliens in the community
Thinking we know everything
When dd sexuality matter
I'll smoke a blunt with my gay homie
Drink tequila with my lesbian friend
Flirt with them both
Simply because I'm the one
Who's going home alone
I love them
Not because their gay
But because they can make me laugh
A hell of a lot better than my straight friends
Sexuality shouldn't matter
Personality is what gets me
Oct 1, 2014
Oct 1, 2014 at 3:12 AM UTC
I’ve never dated a girl with green eyes
My girls always had brown
I like the mystery in not knowing where exactly
the pupil stands against the pigment
Nov 8, 2017
Nov 8, 2017 at 8:46 PM UTC
all of the words
you speak
today and tomorrow
are in vain
for you do not wish
to throw rocks at my window,
you know very well
i am already on my doorstep
waiting for you
you love me in songs played
on tuesday afternoons,
gaps in conversation where
three words are meant to fill it
and faded journal entries
dated when time was blind
you’ve written disguised goodbyes
beneath my eyes
and subliminally (explicitly)
whispered (shouted)
to move on, move on, move on
each moment i’ve tried to draw you nearer,
you do your best to push me further away
but even from a distance,
you are still holding on
let me go
let me go
let me go
so i may finally
let go
of
you
Jul 16, 2013
Jul 16, 2013 at 10:22 PM UTC
You make me feel wistful
With your tight bellies, limpid eyes and endless manes of hair,
You make me feel afraid.
Dainty Angels,
I can't...Quite...Remember...
You make me feel jealous
With your waiflike allure, sad vulnerability, delicate beauty,
You make me feel inadequate.
Fairy Foundlings,
I won't...ever...be....
You make me feel ancient
Outside, dated and decrepit.
How do you feel? What do you need?
Why are you all so sad?
My dreams are your nightmares.
I tasted raindrops once, too
I almost have it, almost understand.
Jun 25, 2014
Jun 25, 2014 at 3:05 AM UTC
What are we doing out here
In the wild wild west
Are you showing me something
Or are we here to rest
We've traveled a long road
But I'm not ready to settle yet
Spider crawling up my arm one day
Blood on my quilt the next
Blood splot on the bathroom floor
Hair chopped off
Cut my finger
Cut that ****
Third eye minds eye know you can open it
**** nugs nudging you toward it
Chugging fluoride gotta know its blocking it
Depression crippling lazy thinking I'm not getting anywhere anymore
Dated a slick-back sexist slug of a human
He haunts me in my dreams
I'm trying to dream big dream of everything
But his face shows me where I've been
His hands done healing flex ****** veins, stop stealing!
His mom sewing his mistakes back together again, stop helping!
His dad fueling the fire again at home, stop procreating!
Its not the job of a lover to raise your significant other
Its not my job to shower you with everything I have day after ******* day when all I get in return is leftover pizza and a sore ******
-SOME PEOPLE DON'T KNOW HOW TO LOVE
IT IS NOT ON YOU TO SHOW THEM HOW
SOME WILL TRY OUT THE MOTIONS WITH OTHER MOTIVATIONS IN MIND
BUT LOVE IS NOT JUST AN ACTION IT IS TRULY A LIFESTYLE
Without love I would be dead
Fill
With intention
Else you're dead
Living isn't that easy
Same struggles every day
Being healthy isn't that easy
Definitely more expensive that way
Being human isn't that easy
Hunting my own spirit day after day
Not wanting
Feeling bad
Not supporting
But loving
I have something to say god ******
And don't dare tell me its just the drugs
We need to start questioning what love is
The lack of it is ******* stuff up
I'm high right now if you didn't know it
If I was sober would the words still come out
You say you love me but you don't support it
But how can you love if you don't understand it
Love is unconditional
Love is support
How are you loving when you try to change it
There is no fixing my humanity
You don't know what makes me happy
No one can be trusted
Love
Choice
Choosing
To be loved
Oct 18, 2016
Oct 18, 2016 at 4:27 AM UTC
Let the bird of loudest lay
On the sole Arabian tree,
Herald sad and trumpet be,
To whose sound chaste wings obey.
But thou shrieking harbinger,
Foul precurrer of the fiend,
Augur of the fever’s end,
To this troop come thou not near.
From this session interdict
Every fowl of tyrant wing
Save the eagle, feather’d king:
Keep the obsequy so strict.
Let the priest in surplice white
That defunctive music can,
Be the death-divining swan,
Lest the requiem lack his right.
And thou, treble-dated crow,
That thy sable gender mak’st
With the breath thou giv’st and tak’st,
‘Mongst our mourners shalt thou go.
Here the anthem doth commence:—
Love and constancy is dead;
Phoenix and the turtle fled
In a mutual flame from hence.
So they loved, as love in twain
Had the essence but in one;
Two distincts, division none;
Number there in love was slain.
Hearts remote, yet not asunder;
Distance, and no space was seen
‘Twixt the turtle and his queen:
But in them it were a wonder.
So between them love did shine,
That the turtle saw his right
Flaming in the phoenix’ sight;
Either was the other’s mine.
Property was thus appall’d,
That the self was not the same;
Single nature’s double name
Neither two nor one was call’d.
Reason, in itself confounded,
Saw division grow together;
To themselves yet either neither;
Simple were so well compounded,
That it cried, ‘How true a twain
Seemeth this concordant one!
Love hath reason, reason none
If what parts can so remain.’
Whereupon it made this threne
To the phoenix and the dove,
Co-supremes and stars of love,
As chorus to their tragic scene.
THRENOS
Beauty, truth, and rarity,
Grace in all simplicity,
Here enclosed in cinders lie.
Death is now the phoenix’ nest;
And the turtle’s loyal breast
To eternity doth rest,
Leaving no posterity:
’Twas not their infirmity,
It was married chastity.
Truth may seem, but cannot be;
Beauty brag, but ’tis not she;
Truth and beauty buried be.
To this urn let those repair
That are either true or fair;
For these dead birds sigh a prayer.
7.1k
*She was way too tough for me.
no it's more I was not hard enough for her.
The old ***** brick houses
of Englands industrial north
caught between industrial revolution
and social unrest .
I was just a youth back then.
The big war fading from memory.
I stopped at my friend's back yard
it was a hot summer back then.
His souped up bike was gleaming
like a prize racehorse.
She pulled a flask of *****
and took a long pull
her bright red hair
like glowing coal
her eyes as black as darkness
she was hard pretty.
Her mini skirt flashing
her shaply legs.
a stray dog big and hard
just like her.
jumped up and licked her face.
she Laughed
they were like two
kindred spirits
like sisters by nature
wild and drifting and free.
She had *** with me
the first time I met her
and told me I was not
rough enough for her.
I just was a bit scared
of telling her
I wanted out of it.
The kick-started bike roared
like the steel lion it was.
She squealed in delight.
then the stray dog peed
on the concrete.
she lifted her skirts
like the hard ***** she was
and peed next to it.
she jumped on the back
of his bike and they
went off at full speed.
To test his bike out
at the racetrack.
I hear they shacked up together.
and we're very happy.
I dated a nerdy young woman
quiet and conservative
who became a librarian.
We got married
four years later.
had two kids
and a housetrained dog.
She never once told me
I was not rough enough in bed.*
Apr 1, 2016
Apr 1, 2016 at 3:49 PM UTC
The room was dank and dreary
The past hung in the air
There was a scent of mildew
A smell of history was there
The paint was old and faded
With stains all dark and brown
The wallpaper too was dated
And it needed to come down
It was a home for 50 years
That stood so strong and proud
It comforted all of our fears
Far from the madding crowd
We stripped away the paper first
Each layer a strip in time
It showed the old room at her worst
It really seemed a crime
To tear it down, and think of when
Each layer was first applied
The walls that seemed so tall again
I just stood there and cried
I thought about the birthdays
Celebrated in this room
Of getting covered all in glaze
That we cleaned off with a broom
The roses were much redder
Than I remembered them to be
In fact it now looked better
Than it did when I was three
I remembered Mother loved this
And of how it made her smile
And she gave Father a light kiss
After toiling all the while
The next layer though was not as nice
"Twas beige and a sort of lime
It made the room feel cold like ice
It spoke of another, somber time
I looked at the wall and I noticed the lines
Marking our heights as we grew
This was on a paper all covered in vines
Mom loved this one, we knew
It seemed surreal that Mom was not here
To see these passages pass
But we knew in our hearts that she was stil near
As we looked at paper covered with Bass
That was from when Unlcle Jim came to stay
And our folks gave up their room
To help out a brother who I still love to this day
One who can always help brighten my gloom
They changed the wall just for him
To make it seem more like it was his
They put their life on hold for Jim
And the wallpaper choice was his
The years pass by more quickly now
The paper doesn't change too much
Jim moved out and that is how
The paper changed just a touch
Mom got sick and Dad quit work
He did the room in flowers for our mom
It was at this time we noticed the rooms quirk
One of those things that made you go hmmm
Far up in one corner behind a section of curtain
Dad had left a small square showing the years
worth of papers we were certain
It was to help mom with her tears
Now as we finished we looked to the man
Sitting alone in the old corner chair
He smiled at us as best as he can
But I don't think he knew we were there
I handed him some paper and I looked in his eyes
He stared clear on through me
And then he started to cry
This was the last of this paper he'd see
Dad and the house now have gone into dust
The years get short and have tapered
But to go back in time I know all I must
Do, is look at my small square of paper.
May 30, 2012
May 30, 2012 at 3:08 PM UTC
I've lost the key that opens the door to my heart,
It's like a painter painting without a brush to an incomplete piece of art.
Like a bird singing a song that cannot be heard
Like a poet writing poetry without a single word
It is the complexity that creates the confusion
Its Missing the flame that lights the spark to create a fusion.
The thief is known to come in the night time
But his not a thief but someone I used to call mine
I guess you could say he stole a piece of me
But he didn't I made the key and handed my heart for free
We danced to a song that only our souls could hear
Then he became out of rhythm and made me shed a tear
Since I knew his song had found a knew singer
So when he left I hoped he will return making me the jackpot winner
But he comes and then he go's
And now I feel his warm breeze that keeps me froze
So I light the candle in the darkness he created
I search through all the men I have previously dated
But there is no one I find but him
That can create fire inside when the match is dim
When he reappears he takes my heart to dance
We take two steps forward and I give him another chance
Then two step backwards while I'm
Lost in his dark eyes
And in them I see the missing key to my jackpot prize
Apr 25, 2014
Apr 25, 2014 at 9:17 PM UTC
She has dated boys before.
Boys who beat her
Boys who ***** her
Boys who did nothing wrong at all
But still did not feel "right."
One of them made fun of her
Told her she must be some kind of lesbian
(As if that was an insult)
If she did not want to have *** with him.
She smiled something sad on the outside
To deflect
To forget
To hide behind.
She thought
And what if I am?
What does that make me?
It's a question that wanders into the unexplored ruins
Of an unkempt mind.
A boy meets boy love story is next on the list.
They both play football
And think that means they must both be "players."
Really, they're falling for each other
With one swift and concise movement.
Boy A cannot tell his parents
As he comes from a rowdy and traditional Italian line.
Boy B is getting fed up
And yet waits, patiently
For his one and only to express this flaring emotion
A love, unexpressed.
Their families, churches and culture
Thinks they can change who they are.
They use different, cruel tactics.
Beat the gay out of him
Excommunication
*Force her to have *** and she will turn straight*
You tell the world that they are an
Abomination
Atrocity
Mutation
And yet, I ask this.
If the Bible was a Holy deity's, a God's message of eternal love
As any good Christian, as I am supposed to be, would proclaim
Then how can it be used to justify
Acts of such hate and genocide?
"I tell you, on the day of judgment people will give account for every careless word they speak"
(Matthew 12:36)
I hope you are prepared for your Judgment Day.
Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 7:27 PM UTC
his lips would remind you of cold tuesday afternoons made for coffee and falling apart. he never really kissed with so much intimacy but he kissed me nonetheless, and maybe those were enough — those steady, demanding kisses, until all i'm left with are sighs and shoulders carved with his name. my fingers, lost in his hair, like withered roses catching fire. my lips, swollen and red, like sunsets begging for the night to come home. my heartbeats, carelessly, hastily stitched inside the hem of his sleeves.
but i stayed in his apartment, slept in his bed, and wore his clothes; like an incoherent word misplaced in a haystack, like a poem, half-naked on the kitchen sink, unraveled by the faintest brushes of skin. slow and claiming. fast and rough. he never really held me close enough, tight enough, but he held me nonetheless, and for a while — just for a while, i could pretend that he wasn't the embodiment of all the things i got to hold but could never get to keep.
he never really looked at me with love or with an intensity that burns, but he gazed nonetheless — almost lost and lust-hazed; calculating and restrained, like i was every poetry he wasn't supposed to write but had written anyway. and i gazed back, at my hands resting against steady movement of his chest, at his dim-morning eyes, at the slight part of his lips.
and his lips — i know they would remind you of cold tuesday afternoons, made for coffee and falling apart. and i know that it wasn't love.
it wasn't love,
but it's pretty close.
Nov 11, 2019
Nov 11, 2019 at 7:29 AM UTC
I met you over Facebook...
You were a stranger to me,
I knew not you,
or your personality.
You were a random, I found you on Facebook.
I said, ''Hi, I know you don't know me and that this is probably weird, but, hi''.
You were cute.
I didn't think it would hurt to add you and maybe talk to you a little.
About a month after I had sent that message I found out I was
switching schools...
Little did I know you went to that school.
We started talking a lot more,
we became good friends.
...I had a crush on you...
I met you about a little while after, you were so cute.
I walked in the door and you just stared at me.
I was frozen.
I was new, I didn't know what to do.
I sat in the back of the room, I kept to myself and was very quiet.
Little ol' you wouldn't let that happen.
You were nice, you talked to me, your friend on the other hand... That little creepy ******* just stared at me.
You and I started talking but so did your friend and I.
I had you and him both wrapped around my little pinky.
An accomplishment any girl in that class would love to have achieved.
Well, I dated him.
I dated my crushes best friend.
The creepy little **** who would stare at me for hours on end.
After no more than a month, he dumped me.
My feeling for Billy, my previous crush started to stir.
Why?
We became great friends.
Best friends.
I was really sad when I found out you were dating my best friend.
You guys had been dating ever since I had gotten there and I now just found out.
Boy don't I feel dumb.
That relationship you two had was cute...
But, it was short lived.
You told me you liked me...
I was shocked,
happy,
astonished,
and then again disappointed.
I told myself to wait,
told myself, ''Oh. He'll come around,''
It never happened.
I fell in love with you.
You invited me over, so I went.
We had fun.
We watched movies...
We played footsies?
Yeah, it happened.
The next Friday after that we hung out and you tutored me...
Wasn't exactly tutoring...
More like a kissing class.
Oh well, I didn't care...
At the moment.
We we're caught up in the moment, and I head you whisper something in my ear.
''Let's make it official,''
I said, ''Let's do it''
You picked me up and carried me into the bedroom,
laid me down on the bed, and passionately kissed me on the lips.
I kissed you back, life was getting better already.
March 22nd, 2012.
It's our anniversary, also my Dad's birthday.
That day leads us to where we are today.
Still together,
still in love,
reaching for our forever.
I never knew that a random guy I added on Facebook would end up meaning so much to me.
I never dreamed I would find someone I love this much.
I could never ask for more.
Now every chance my Dad get he sais, ''You and him are the best birthday present I had ever gotten!''
I wish he was still here today to say that, he left about two months into our relationship.
Jun 13, 2013
Jun 13, 2013 at 6:18 AM UTC
Have you ever dated a butterfly ?
A butterfly who wings been grounded by lies,sin, adultery and broken promises.
A grounded butterfly whose wings ripped apart from a monstrous ant.
The butterfly stayed realizing its wings will never grow but it loved that ant for pleasures that won't fill the soul but just entice the body.
One day that butterfly did try to fly again but no wings and it found itself by mere coincidence in the nest of a growing dragonfly.
The dragon fly too was hurt and found itself wingless doing anything to forget it couldn't fly.
One day the butterfly and dragonfly came to be one together to ease the pain and to give the love the other deserves both too soon not ready but it's great, good and **** right horrible days.
But over time through mistakes and lies.
The dragonfly past vices caught up to it and little did the butterfly know it had baggage too it was fighting though wrong it tried to hide it but made things worse.
More time passed and struggles and misfortunes continued; it became apparent to the butterfly tired of being grounded it saw the dragonfly as species it cant intermix with.
They fought mentally against eachother only while hurting deep inside, the dragonfly too became more devoided and hidden but secretly it wanted to help bring the wings back to the butterfly. But after being dishonest the butterfly came to see it as a no good liar and cheat too.
A simple mistake it made and it hangs over something it never did but the die was cast, a created persona made from pain and hurt.
Truth is till this day that dragonfly only wishes to help and love that butterfly like it should be and dispel that hurt.
It wonders how can you get a butterfly that gave you chances and now won't take you back ?can you make a home, write a poem, or stay home alone wondering can you turn back time.....
It's still got a ways to go before its fully mature and experienced but it wishes to grow along side the butterfly as it too grows it's wings.
Can one day they build into what eachother needs with reckless abandon and learn to love one another the right way.
Just mere thoughts from a dragonfly.
Dec 1, 2019
Dec 1, 2019 at 4:19 AM UTC
The sky wept
the sky wept
the sky wept
the sky wept
while I leapt,
while I leapt,
well I leapt thru fire.
Gasp sigh perspire.
give me your tired
huddled and heavy laden
that loud light holds us up high
in his left hand and will be ********* man.
we'll be ********* man.
Harvest moon incited madness
granjero in a gas mask
destined
to manifest the liberation front.
watch me kiss the sun.
thirtytwo one, I am done.
canvas demon,
lower the lights &arise.;
like who wouldn't wanna kiss the sky...
Miss 'My,my,my' meet
Major fleet week
now yall dance and drink
each other's blood
doesn't that sound like fun
isn't it so sweet
wonder some
praise the priest
***** mothers ******* sons,
my lachrymose lack of passion
weighs a **** fantastic ton,
I wish someone would come &
divvy me a dole
of fresh faced inspiration
and vintage faded soul...
I am mobile homosapien.
I am not your friend
simply a lazy ally,
I reside in the unfunny pages.
Dated and bathed in flame,
given back to the air
where I came from.
humdrum funk,
under the ugly sun
feelin lovely in the slums.
Undone undone
Sep 19, 2015
Sep 19, 2015 at 12:46 AM UTC
Oh Heiress!
My heiress
You date many men
At the least you've dated eighteen
That's in the last few years
But you're royalist of blood
Makes you special
For you're the heiress
To become The Condescension!
So date who you wish
Be deflowered if you want
But know this
I'll remember this always
Violet's always remember
Especially those who were close
Stay away from Jason!
Jul 17, 2014
Jul 17, 2014 at 1:23 AM UTC
cherry blossom was his smoking hot girlfriend.
they moved in together, probably in 2007.
he met her online, he was married to a woman
who he said was a fundamentalist. they had four kids,
three daughters and a son.
he wrote a lot about how his fundamentalist wife had turned
the three daughters against him. as the years went by,
he forgot their birthdays and ages because it hurt too much,
so he wrote.
"cherry blossom, you're going to make it
with your unbroken man who i hope to thank
one day for making you happy", he wrote
in a journal entitled "the last one"
dated late September of 2012.
they broke up in mid August 2011
from a journal entry dated at the end of October 2012:
"ten things you want to say to ten different people"
cherry blossom was first on the list
cherry blossom's unbroken man was second on the list
cherry blossom's son of a different baby daddy was third on the list
his own son was fourth on the list
his daughters were not on the list at all.
he was glad she was with a good guy. he didn't have to worry about her. unbroken guy was a good guy, he loved unbroken guy for that. her son was a good guy, he was glad that her son got to hang out with him and his son.
according to the public messages his friends left on his profile and the last time stamp on his activity feed,
he must have died almost three years ago,
in mid August, 7 years to the exact date
he had posted a journal entry explaining
that they had broken up and cherry blossom was moving out.
7 years is the same amount of time
it took for jacob to get rachel as his wife
after being deceived into marrying leah.
he had other journal entries too,
they go back to 2008, so some of them
cover his time with cherry blossom
cherry blossom was smokin hot,
they had *** parties
cherry blossom got all the attention
because she was smokin hot
he had bottomed to his vanilla fundamentalist wife
who turned his three daughters against him
but cherry blossom was his submissive
so cherry blossom was the way
cherry blossom introduced him to swinging, **** and gang bangs
his fundamentalist wife, who he never got a legal divorce from,
turned his three daughters against him.
he had 342 friends and 13 followers on his fetlife profile,
five left public messages on his wall after he died.
cherry blossom was so smokin hot.
Mar 23, 2021
Mar 23, 2021 at 8:54 PM UTC
I dated two robots yesterdays
Both were programmed to service me well
We did things
In the same
good old
learned order
of doing things
And after sunset
we kissed
at the beach
With one -
our feet touching
With the other -
our view inviting
the rush of salty waves
Alas
Both robots could suddenly
not speak
One even bluffed
he had a virus in throat
AI intelligence?!
jaa ha ha
The other was hanging just with
With variations of
what do you feels
Tell me your fantasy s
‘Don't think
tell me whatever comes first’ s
And
I believe
And
I say
But
Mine is what he can't understand
His’ is
I think a drink on the beach
But unfortunately I don't drink
Using coconut biotica only
These days
Ahhahhaa
...
While they chatted so well!
Without any error of a word to spell!
…
I dated two robots yesterday
That sighed only to say
I can't believe I am holding yous
How much I missed yous
Hugging robots
Vibrating robots
Robots with small mouth and twister tongue
Ready to penetrate into mine at a slightest chance of an opening
A disguised disgust of my sincere failure
not towards the robot but myself
Hiding you still under my palate
from where the soma of your love drips
Now as if forcefully been replaced
to a taste of this preprogrammed chatalike
Have they lost their voice because of my best dress
or maybe the fantasy of the sandy bikini
which they will never see
in the dark wherein
Both hiding their face
But I see
By my loose body parts
Maybe a lookalike
But I ain't no robot
Oh my sandy bikini
Oh Chosen so carefully
To rejuvenate their fantasy
a different pattern for each-
yes. I do take care of that!
Stays now
as an Everly Brothers’ dream
In my mind only
But
My ‘okey ‘ is an ensuring
‘yes yes’ the Indian way
Of course
They did their best
Seriously
Thus
A big CHAPEAU
For the zest
That obviously still can break china hearts
I took it as a test
To get to know me better
Let me be broken through your dream
Let me cry and shake and perceive an angry cloudy color world
let my remains of china burst
I dated two robots yesterdays
while expecting for a man
Thankfully though
these are yesterdays
Today I met a true man
A gypsy
We will date sometime
Play tabla and darbuka
Drink dance and sing
And sleep
To salute the sun
early in the morning
At the beach
Jan 17, 2016
Jan 17, 2016 at 2:58 AM UTC
This isn't going to be much of a poem, just a thought; something that I was thinking about today.
I was asked if it was weird to have dated my ex, since he was 5'5, one inch shorter than I am. And you know what, I've dated professional go-kart racers, jujitsu gold medalists and kick boxers, yes, all much taller than I am, however, none of them made me feel as safe as my 5'5 hockey player did. So the answer to that question, which actually surprised me as well, is no. It was not weird. It was not anything but another relationship, with another boy, who proved to be much more than how tall he was. Height does not matter to me and I don't see it ever mattering because he made me feel just as loved as someone twice his size could have. And even though he turned out to be a complete **** head, that was not because of his small size, that was because he was, and is, a ****** person. Case closed.
By Chloe Elizabeth
Aug 28, 2015
Aug 28, 2015 at 8:29 PM UTC
I don't know left from right
I don't know what's left from right
I live now in black and white
And lost a fight
But now I'm clear
What comes near
Now I know everything
And that you was a faker
Because you dated fore darea
Jun 10, 2014
Jun 10, 2014 at 11:20 PM UTC