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"debut" poems
I bought myself a kite to fly I tossed it up and ran around I tried to pull it through the sky But found it just dragged on the ground. It landed in the mud, it was mangled, it was done And thus concludes the tragic tale of the kite I numbered one. My second kite was different. It caught a mighty gale I flew it well, then let it go And in the end I failed. It joined released balloons and leaves, whatever else is there In the ***** lonely cloudland in the out-of-picture air. I still had hope and so I bought My final silken bird I told myself that I would soon Unleash it to the word. The kite's debut date got pushed back and further back until It found a final resting place untested in its skill. I bought myself three kites to fly The first two meet ill fates The third one has a dusty shelf Where it keeps very safe.
0
Sep 13, 2018
Sep 13, 2018 at 10:34 PM UTC
Tales of Three Kites
Trying to find a place to cry. How pathetic is that. Not my house, My family will ask. Not my dorm, My roommate will wonder. Can't park in my car, People will pull over. (People are so god **** kind in that way). So I'll drive. And I'll cry. Like a child Who didn't get his way. Which, In a way, Is fairly accurate. But I need to cry somewhere. The pressure is building up In my head In my heart In the pit of my stomach. Waiting there To make its debut. So I'll drive. And I'll cry. And I'll let it all out. Because I want you But he has you And I didn't get my way. And on second thought no, Not like a child.   A child is much more Mature. Because I won't apologize For throwing a fit. Because I still want you. So I'll just drive for awhile. And let it all out On the road. Throwing a fit In my '91 Chevy.
0
Nov 22, 2015
Nov 22, 2015 at 1:16 PM UTC
More or less mature.
the sunlight gazes down upon your skin highlighting the speckles in your eyes you embrace them with a caring grin while staring with the ocean tides you shine like the sun on a stormy night nonsensical yet charming and when your eyes gaze so bright the warning bells scream, alarming your heat is a soothing fear drawing me close blinded by your debut premier i could only throw a single rose my light may not shine like yours and my heat be as striking but love, this warmth has been through wars waiting for you, hiding you are the beauty of my doubt and the rose to my thorn to you, i am devout and by love, i am sworn
0
Mar 14, 2022
Mar 14, 2022 at 11:59 AM UTC
Sunshine
Two people both alike in character Of the opposite sexes Sit across a candlelit dinner In a lovely, fancy restaurant The room is incandescently lit With a dimness that balances between ever so bright and ever so dark Allowing for a gold tinge to envelop the restaurant But not gold enough to take away notice of the lit candle set upon the White table cloth The waiter appears and asks the couple What they would like for dinner The couple order the food and drink Much to the waiter's delight the food and drink is expensive The waiter returns shortly With a bottle of their finest Pinto Noir And pours the blood-red wine slowly Into each of the couple's glasses And leaves the couple to sip upon their sweet sin delicately The food is laid out Triumphant in its debut A vast smorgasbord of entries Including frog legs, crab, and delicious ****** steak The couple prepare their silverware for the battle that is eating The man stabs his knife into the ****** steak Cutting it open and spilling the juices all over his plate He stabs the meat with the fork and guides it toward his mouth And slowly but surely chomps upon it with the strength of his fine jaw And swallows the meat into the unexposed mystery that is his stomach The woman begins to mutilate the frog legs with her knife Cutting into the once moveable limbs And stabs the limbs with her fork and brings it to her mouth And delicately bites the limbs and politely chews And swallows it into her fine and precious insides The couple then split the crab legs Using their bear hands they split the shells open And remove the meat or **** it right out of the shell They swallow it whole and do nothing with the shell Leaving the shell aside to be as still as a carcass The waiter arrives and asks how the food was The couple obliged him with their satisfaction The bill is handed to them and the couple pay it Leaving a hefty tip They then leave the lovingly dimly lit restaurant To enjoy the night that is ahead of them
0
May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 1:37 AM UTC
A Dinner
Two people both alike in character Of the opposite sexes Sit across a candlelit dinner In a lovely, fancy restaurant The room is incandescently lit With a dimness that balances between ever so bright and ever so dark Allowing for a gold tinge to envelop the restaurant But not gold enough to take away notice of the lit candle set upon the White table cloth The waiter appears and asks the couple What they would like for dinner The couple order the food and drink Much to the waiter's delight the food and drink is expensive The waiter returns shortly With a bottle of their finest Pinto Noir And pours the blood-red wine slowly Into each of the couple's glasses And leaves the couple to sip upon their sweet sin delicately The food is laid out Triumphant in its debut A vast smorgasbord of entries Including frog legs, crab, and delicious ****** steak The couple prepare their silverware for the battle that is eating The man stabs his knife into the ****** steak Cutting it open and spilling the juices all over his plate He stabs the meat with the fork and guides it toward his mouth And slowly but surely chomps upon it with the strength of his fine jaw And swallows the meat into the unexposed mystery that is his stomach The woman begins to mutilate the frog legs with her knife Cutting into the once moveable limbs And stabs the limbs with her fork and brings it to her mouth And delicately bites the limbs and politely chews And swallows it into her fine and precious insides The couple then split the crab legs Using their bear hands they split the shells open And remove the meat or **** it right out of the shell They swallow it whole and do nothing with the shell Leaving the shell aside to be as still as a carcass The waiter arrives and asks how the food was The couple obliged him with their satisfaction The bill is handed to them and the couple pay it Leaving a hefty tip They then leave the lovingly dimly lit restaurant To enjoy the night that is ahead of them
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43
Her Imperious Canticle rewarded From the butterflies of monarchy Mermaid scales are her bouquet An ombre is the debut Crystal corals are the stars on her face Below pink rings that scale a tune Which the winged beauties will charm in too An amazing debut for the see through Of a dynasty that glows in the prism moon.
0
Feb 24, 2019
Feb 24, 2019 at 9:13 AM UTC
Of Prisms and Opera Bones
Lagi ka na lang tourist spot na ayos picture-an, handa pag may birthday lang, extreme sport na masayang subukan, gown pag debut, dress pag kasalan, leap year pag pinagpala, blue moon pag may himala, lakad ng barkada kung tuloy ang aya. One time, big time. Kailan ka kaya magiging tambayan anuman ang dahilan, kanin sa kahit anong ulam, basketball na laging andiyan, t-shirt, shorts, pants na 'di pangmayaman, a-kinse at a-trenta pag minalas, new moon, full moon at lahat ng quarter, fixed date. Big time, all the time.
0
Aug 5, 2016
Aug 5, 2016 at 12:40 PM UTC
Sana steady naman
~ dad said she'd be famous ~ *"...a doctor or diva like lena horne,"* he said he'd been doing odd day jobs and driving cabs deep into the night through  these mean city streets since ella's debut at the apollo and his smile grew wider than jackie o's reservoir in central park when this bouncing baby girl made her grand debut into his world the dimples on her cherub caramel cheeks were irresistibly pinchable and those twinkling eyes knew she'd be spoiled infinitely like a fruit-fly in a box of rotten apples ~ reality check ~ ....if you look closely you might still see one dimple; but the twinkles departed back in '75 ....and the burns on her fingertips and blistered lips ....and the bones.... jutting  like the bones of refugees and anorexics ....missing flesh ...and the tracks on her forearms and filthy jeans .....and the eyes.... shifting like the eyes of senators and thieves ....telling lies .....and the rotting corpse in a black garbage bag in fresh kills multiple choices removed from the doctor and diva of daddy's dreams hijacked by dream-killers: *smack       crack   and addiction* ~ P (Pablo) (8/1/2013)
0
Aug 1, 2013
Aug 1, 2013 at 3:26 PM UTC
Daddy's Dreamgirl...
Ana has made her debut once again. Telling me that I’m not pretty enough. skinny enough. worth enough. All I want is to look like other girls around me. To grasp the affection from lovers. But how do I expect myself to grasp love if Ana is taking every ounce of myself with her. I don’t even have the strength nor energy to grasp the protein shake that’s been flung right in front of me. I know Ana is toxic but yet her burning words sound so sweet. Too sweet. Her burning words keep me burning countless calories. Giving me only enough energy to listen to her. Ana has made her debut once again and I am once again begging her to leave.
0
Apr 7, 2021
Apr 7, 2021 at 1:54 AM UTC
Ana Pt.2
I am standing still as a rock curled up on the floor shaking back and forth. I am overreacting in response to your underreaction and something in my body just doesn't feel right anymore. A piece of me is angry that you dared to have this much control over me. Why were you trusted with a sword you didn't know how to use? Because these wounds are leaking blood and staining the new clothes I'm wearing for you. My underwear is covered in pictures of your favorite fruit that will never taste the same again. I am trying to rationalize your behavior. I am making up excuse after excuse for you and I am disgusted with myself. It was you who put me in this situation and it is all your **** fault which is why I am to blame. I didn't know that nothing was strong enough to break glass, but here I am shattered after your lack of words struck me. Who do you think you are, because apparently I know nothing about you. It was so subtle that I almost missed its hands wrapping around my throat. My face was blue by the time your rejection had sunk into my skin, pins and needles over every bit of flesh. I was changed in an instant. You don't miss me back. That knowledge bouncing back and forth inside of my skull on a Monday night. And maybe you were tired or maybe you were stressed or maybe you were revealing the truth to me, finally, releasing your feelings, or lack there of for the first time. Wasn't I so lucky to be there for your debut? I can feel ants crawling around on my heart and they must be hungry because they keep biting away miniscule pieces of me that I guess I didn't need. You mean so much to me but I must be meaningless. I am breaking down and apparently you couldn't care less. You never told me you didn't love me, you never told me you didn't miss me, I had to figure that one out for myself, you never told me I was nothing, but that is how I am feeling. And soon you will have to see my face and I will get to look upon yours and we will be together. My soul will be screaming out at you, demanding to know what changed, but my lips will not make a sound. I am silent and it has always been my greatest weakness, well, until I fell in love with you, anyway. All of this pain, yet I won't have a word to say. I am trapped here wondering what way it will go. Most of me doesn't even want to know. It's only a matter of days and even after all of this, I still manage to miss you, but You don't miss me back.
0
May 23, 2017
May 23, 2017 at 8:13 PM UTC
You don't miss me back
I am standing still as a rock curled up on the floor shaking back and forth. I am overreacting in response to your underreaction and something in my body just doesn't feel right anymore. A piece of me is angry that you dared to have this much control over me. Why were you trusted with a sword you didn't know how to use? Because these wounds are leaking blood and staining the new clothes I'm wearing for you. My underwear is covered in pictures of your favorite fruit that will never taste the same again. I am trying to rationalize your behavior. I am making up excuse after excuse for you and I am disgusted with myself. It was you who put me in this situation and it is all your **** fault which is why I am to blame. I didn't know that nothing was strong enough to break glass, but here I am shattered after your lack of words struck me. Who do you think you are, because apparently I know nothing about you. It was so subtle that I almost missed its hands wrapping around my throat. My face was blue by the time your rejection had sunk into my skin, pins and needles over every bit of flesh. I was changed in an instant. You don't miss me back. That knowledge bouncing back and forth inside of my skull on a Monday night. And maybe you were tired or maybe you were stressed or maybe you were revealing the truth to me, finally, releasing your feelings, or lack there of for the first time. Wasn't I so lucky to be there for your debut? I can feel ants crawling around on my heart and they must be hungry because they keep biting away miniscule pieces of me that I guess I didn't need. You mean so much to me but I must be meaningless. I am breaking down and apparently you couldn't care less. You never told me you didn't love me, you never told me you didn't miss me, I had to figure that one out for myself, you never told me I was nothing, but that is how I am feeling. And soon you will have to see my face and I will get to look upon yours and we will be together. My soul will be screaming out at you, demanding to know what changed, but my lips will not make a sound. I am silent and it has always been my greatest weakness, well, until I fell in love with you, anyway. All of this pain, yet I won't have a word to say. I am trapped here wondering what way it will go. Most of me doesn't even want to know. It's only a matter of days and even after all of this, I still manage to miss you, but You don't miss me back.
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8
Once of a bride was I by a belle informed; Who, on the very night of their honeymoon Upon sighting her groom's dower, screamed And would not let him in for his ***** boon, Until she's taken thru the script the following Morn by her parson's wife in cool counselling. Many things in morals and etiquette do Parents their children ever and anon teach Except on this single unfolding issue Will they falter to them plainly preach: The act of marriage in its detailed image, Cause it's found nay on their nurturing page. An African mother will quiver her girl to lecture, For instance, in the subject under review, But will leave it to the Omniscient Nature To instruct her like cry to a curlew. So the bride's mom will not to her say: This is how you should roll in the hay. Neither will a father his son likewise tell Explicitly of this duty--this too I know-- How to make his led-to-the-altar angel Fly on cloud nine during their maiden show. My pa never me of this nuptial scene told, How in bed my lady I should stylishly hold. Yet instinct, that great ancient teacher, The green Adam and ****** Eve taught On man's debut moment of ecstasy ever, And did lead him to her piquant spot, Whilst one another they caressed for affection, Premiering for all couples conjugal copulation. And the animals who do not the wisdom Of man have, even every diminutive creature, How each by divine smarts in their kingdom-- Like the fish in the sea of their rapture-- Do with themselves mate with none Giving them tutorials nor showing them **** To close this up where it had first started: The *iyawo after the pending deed was done, As it should betwixt man and wife, delighted Was and with glowing warmth did thence burn In the hearth of her *ókò with ultra joy, Who at the beginning of performance was coy.
0
Nov 28, 2011
Nov 28, 2011 at 4:43 AM UTC
Left to Instinct
Once of a bride was I by a belle informed; Who, on the very night of their honeymoon Upon sighting her groom's dower, screamed And would not let him in for his ***** boon, Until she's taken thru the script the following Morn by her parson's wife in cool counselling. Many things in morals and etiquette do Parents their children ever and anon teach Except on this single unfolding issue Will they falter to them plainly preach: The act of marriage in its detailed image, Cause it's found nay on their nurturing page. An African mother will quiver her girl to lecture, For instance, in the subject under review, But will leave it to the Omniscient Nature To instruct her like cry to a curlew. So the bride's mom will not to her say: This is how you should roll in the hay. Neither will a father his son likewise tell Explicitly of this duty--this too I know-- How to make his led-to-the-altar angel Fly on cloud nine during their maiden show. My pa never me of this nuptial scene told, How in bed my lady I should stylishly hold. Yet instinct, that great ancient teacher, The green Adam and ****** Eve taught On man's debut moment of ecstasy ever, And did lead him to her piquant spot, Whilst one another they caressed for affection, Premiering for all couples conjugal copulation. And the animals who do not the wisdom Of man have, even every diminutive creature, How each by divine smarts in their kingdom-- Like the fish in the sea of their rapture-- Do with themselves mate with none Giving them tutorials nor showing them **** To close this up where it had first started: The *iyawo after the pending deed was done, As it should betwixt man and wife, delighted Was and with glowing warmth did thence burn In the hearth of her *ókò with ultra joy, Who at the beginning of performance was coy.
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42
1968  I remember 1968.. The land of milk and honey. The war was still cold but not The Tet. That ***** was hot. 1954 I made my debut. Lotta my boys did too. ** chi Minh amped up his crew. Can't. We all just get along. No way LBJ. Young guys all over town stressin the lottery. The randomness of body bag. Friday hip deep in rice paddy. Monday a letter to your moms.
0
Sep 25, 2012
Sep 25, 2012 at 2:16 PM UTC
The Nam #1
And again my heart pounced over skin cold; that pleaded singleness, with hypocritical beats I bowed to, to her highness; to her petite shrill, a debut in partial denial; unpleasant, as i withdrew with foul felony, thoughts raced through judging ethics, while simplicity ****** away the soul, into a contagious six holed drain... And I locked myself behind blue bars, losing the wall I built with sweated palms, danced did I over viscous black waters, embracing the world's false desires, smashed them pretty birds withing their cage, lost all sense of peace, I go hidden, in awe of that ever pleasant voice; I bow again; in silence I ask me to plant me in her backyard, water me with her sour scents, sing me her sweet lilting lullaby, and embrace me into our little concord!! Where did the wisdom lay that moment? that moment when I tasted drops of sweat... Why would I **** that clown in me? that played tunes from a gleeful cassette... When will I lose my two shadows? that followed me even while I'd regret... (a puff o' smoke and some silence) And again my heart, it pounced!!
0
Apr 25, 2012
Apr 25, 2012 at 5:20 AM UTC
Hypocrisy
With trembling knees, I took my position. The stage was set. Before me sat a school of eyes: transfixed, gazing with anticipation. Piercing the silence with an unfurling of paper, I stepped forwards, my mouth pressed to the microphone. A kick of adrenaline, engaging of breath and I began. “My inspiration.” Humble Houghton MBE; centre-half, captain, Man City. A lioness leader, Durham born and raised. With writing and wit, I’ll heap the praise. England debut at just 17. Free-kick expert, living the dream. Old-school-gritty-no-nonsense defender. An accurate passer - return to sender. A right-footed shot to burst the net. Dedicating her life, she doesn’t forget: school teams, amateur level, Sunderland weekends. A cup final beckons: the star of the show, the women’s game - she’s watched it grow. Now girls put on their boots, their shinnies and smile. Aiming to go that extra mile. The right to play football, the right to be free, Raising awareness of MND, Best of the best, who can it be? Stephanie Jayne Houghton MBE. Stepping away from the microphone the applause raining down, I knew I’d made an impression on people. Just like Steph had on me.
0
Jul 9, 2021
Jul 9, 2021 at 3:31 PM UTC
Applause
This is my debut This is not up for dispute I have a few things I want to converse with you God gave me a gift to share with you Anything and everything of life is beautiful I’m what you call a living miracle My essence, my walk, my talk, and my ways Puts the evil doers to shame Greatness is my name Shaakira Rahnae S H A A K I R A R A H N A E Only for the ones who can’t read I’m everything the maker created me to be Living my life but reassuring I live out my infamous dream So that little boys and little girls can seek their destiny just like me No more fearing More overcoming This power I contain you can’t take that from me ONLY GOD CAN! Humble and sweet, yes that’s me I’ll have you adoring the way I speak Every bit of five feet plus three Natural hair and petite Living eccentric and free Use my thoughts to eat I repeat This is my debut This is not up for dispute Thank you
0
Apr 9, 2014
Apr 9, 2014 at 12:23 AM UTC
Debut
The Nigerian Princess Philanthropist at her best Could rule the world with her mind and soul But healing Nigeria is her overall goal The Nigerian Princess She is more than less I'd crown her queen For her debut scene Is literacy in Nigeria She is Queen Panacea
0
Nov 3, 2013
Nov 3, 2013 at 1:32 PM UTC
Queen Panacea
Do not lay your body upon my heart. Quivering as it is would be a bad start. You wont grow, for I have an infertile soul, But I assure you I'm quite whole. Problem is the lack of sunshine, And a consciousness drawn by a thick line. While I love you, As you wait for our debut, Do not lay your body upon this work of art, For it simply would not be smart. You wont grow, for i have an infertile soul, But I assure you,  I'm only partial troll.
0
Apr 3, 2013
Apr 3, 2013 at 9:29 PM UTC
Infertile Soul
Nous etions, en cet instant, prisonniers du bonheur. Heritiers de cette douce mais, o combien lourde, ferveur Brulant sous cette peau vernie de sueur, de sable et de sel, Portes, en princes sous les ficelles des tisseuses de ciel. Nous regardions le gris a nous ecorcher les yeux, Aimant de la passion infidele du zenith bleu Le vide encombrant de nos plus incroyables espoirs Et le remou sans debut ni fin de nouvelles memoires. Nous les connaissions, ces esprits, vagabonds des mers Chassant, au milieu des vagues ces humeurs incidencieres, Celles la meme qui jadis se prenommaient “reves d’enfance” Et qui depuis de sont transformes en dependence. Nous les connaissions, et meme si la nature de ce lien M’est masque par un sacerdoce qui ne sera jamais mien, Elle me dicte toujours chaque contour de leur lames grises Qui de cet air sec et fier sont tragiquement eprises Nous etions, en cet instant prisonniers de beaute, Celle la meme qui voit nos poumons dechiquetes A vouloir engouffrer ce monde entier sous nos pores Que demain a travers ces lettres je puisse a nouveau le voir.
0
Feb 19, 2015
Feb 19, 2015 at 1:01 PM UTC
A Solis Occasum Cardine
I guess we were bored, Or looking for something new. And there was a party coming up. Someone's hosting debut. So we thought we'd ask around, See what else was to do. And our **** dealer told us He sold other things too. He nicknamed it dizz, And it sounded quite fun. So we talked all about it, Decided to get some. We all pitched in, Asked for five or ten pounds. And went and collected it; Tin foil bound. Accompanying us Was a sober mate. He said it would be fun To watch and spectate. So we unwrapped it, Crushed it, Poured it, And drank it. The taste was disgusting, Of abstract chemicals. But we swallowed it down, A moment; seminal. They said twenty minutes, So we sat and waited. Our hearts were pumping Way before eight. And we went downstairs, Sat on a sofa, Biding our time, Sipping on cola... And there. What was that. A feeling. It entered the chat. Some warmth, No stress. And then a Very deep breath Of fresh air And emotion. Like emerging from the bottom Of a very deep ocean You had been down for years. Reggae was playing At very high volume. And none wanted staying Where we were. So we got up keen, And started dancing. One even went on the wet trampoline And bounced Up, down, Up, down, Could've gone till sundown. And the sky was gorgeous; Metallic, steel blue Mixed with orange and yellow. It was quite the view. But time was Moving on, So we packed up, And were almost gone Before keys jangled, And the door swung open. A parent walked in, And caused a commotion Of boys rushing out, Mumbling words and plans. We left quite abruptly, And sprinted and ran. Once round the corner, We couldn't care less. Nonchalant as usual, We enjoyed the success. And we walked and talked About pure, utter, ***** The iPhone X, some girls, And the absolute banger that would be tonight. So we strolled around, The sun on our faces, Feeling elated. Going some places.
0
Aug 21, 2018
Aug 21, 2018 at 7:01 PM UTC
Euphoria Salts
I guess we were bored, Or looking for something new. And there was a party coming up. Someone's hosting debut. So we thought we'd ask around, See what else was to do. And our **** dealer told us He sold other things too. He nicknamed it dizz, And it sounded quite fun. So we talked all about it, Decided to get some. We all pitched in, Asked for five or ten pounds. And went and collected it; Tin foil bound. Accompanying us Was a sober mate. He said it would be fun To watch and spectate. So we unwrapped it, Crushed it, Poured it, And drank it. The taste was disgusting, Of abstract chemicals. But we swallowed it down, A moment; seminal. They said twenty minutes, So we sat and waited. Our hearts were pumping Way before eight. And we went downstairs, Sat on a sofa, Biding our time, Sipping on cola... And there. What was that. A feeling. It entered the chat. Some warmth, No stress. And then a Very deep breath Of fresh air And emotion. Like emerging from the bottom Of a very deep ocean You had been down for years. Reggae was playing At very high volume. And none wanted staying Where we were. So we got up keen, And started dancing. One even went on the wet trampoline And bounced Up, down, Up, down, Could've gone till sundown. And the sky was gorgeous; Metallic, steel blue Mixed with orange and yellow. It was quite the view. But time was Moving on, So we packed up, And were almost gone Before keys jangled, And the door swung open. A parent walked in, And caused a commotion Of boys rushing out, Mumbling words and plans. We left quite abruptly, And sprinted and ran. Once round the corner, We couldn't care less. Nonchalant as usual, We enjoyed the success. And we walked and talked About pure, utter, ***** The iPhone X, some girls, And the absolute banger that would be tonight. So we strolled around, The sun on our faces, Feeling elated. Going some places.
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88
It's been a bit jarring, this stumble into symmetry, my good senses gluing themselves intact          like an eleventh-hour craft project. No string sections swelling for this comeback kid-- the just desserts, in this case,                              arrive in the form                              of a steady hum                              that breezes the past away                      with the ease of a loose eyelash            flying in a tropical storm. It took years to embody this equilibrium, to approach the mid-morning sun and not recoil from overexposure, no longer draped in the sweat-soaked robes                  of secrecy. I have tripped upon a biome                  of bravery, fallen into the measurements                  that require no prickly tampering                  from the rusty, dulled needle                 of a fraudulent tailor.
0
May 4, 2014
May 4, 2014 at 9:21 PM UTC
Debut
With no one to answer to, I do what I want to. This concept is new, what do I like to do? Go to a metal show, hit in the nose with an elbow; let the blood flow. Didn't even feel the blow, so I didn't even need to go instead, myself, I did throw back into the crowd I plough and hit dude back, real low. Go to the club to dance all night keep going until morning light, me and some ***** have a fight but I come out alright , now us two are super tight. Look at me now, living life! Dudes lined up on their knees each one is begging to please, but they don't interest me. Everybody wants a squeeze; my happiness is such a tease. Every guy thinks their the cheese, each wanna try to meet my needs, "gimme that *** so they plead, sorry fellas, nobody does it like me! I scream my own name and I love this change. My life hasn't been the same, since I stopped laying the blame on others for keeping me lame. I'm big now, I may have met fame! Guys in the bands want my name, Friends of friends are going insane, "who's that girl with the quick-wit brain? Wildly free; she can't be tame! Hotter than the sun's own flame!" It's for sure that I'm not plain, you've been looking at me since I came, but I'm not going to be claimed! You can say that it's such a shame, but these days, I feel no pain; I'm not a part of anyone's game. I thought I'd struggle on my own, but the truth has now been shown I've got the strength and the tone, to say no in a drug filled zone. Look at me and how I've grown, doing better now that I'm alone; I feel amazing, let it be known! My mind is somewhat blown with all the options I've been thrown, figuring out where I feel at home and loving that nothing's set in stone. With no one to answer to, I can really do what I want to. And although this concept is new, the results are far from few! My personality will debut after I figure out exactly who I am and what I like to do. I'm very close, this is true, to creating myself anew; it's a self-respect breakthrough, finding myself after you.
0
Dec 22, 2014
Dec 22, 2014 at 11:03 AM UTC
happiness actually comes from respecting yourself!
With no one to answer to, I do what I want to. This concept is new, what do I like to do? Go to a metal show, hit in the nose with an elbow; let the blood flow. Didn't even feel the blow, so I didn't even need to go instead, myself, I did throw back into the crowd I plough and hit dude back, real low. Go to the club to dance all night keep going until morning light, me and some ***** have a fight but I come out alright , now us two are super tight. Look at me now, living life! Dudes lined up on their knees each one is begging to please, but they don't interest me. Everybody wants a squeeze; my happiness is such a tease. Every guy thinks their the cheese, each wanna try to meet my needs, "gimme that *** so they plead, sorry fellas, nobody does it like me! I scream my own name and I love this change. My life hasn't been the same, since I stopped laying the blame on others for keeping me lame. I'm big now, I may have met fame! Guys in the bands want my name, Friends of friends are going insane, "who's that girl with the quick-wit brain? Wildly free; she can't be tame! Hotter than the sun's own flame!" It's for sure that I'm not plain, you've been looking at me since I came, but I'm not going to be claimed! You can say that it's such a shame, but these days, I feel no pain; I'm not a part of anyone's game. I thought I'd struggle on my own, but the truth has now been shown I've got the strength and the tone, to say no in a drug filled zone. Look at me and how I've grown, doing better now that I'm alone; I feel amazing, let it be known! My mind is somewhat blown with all the options I've been thrown, figuring out where I feel at home and loving that nothing's set in stone. With no one to answer to, I can really do what I want to. And although this concept is new, the results are far from few! My personality will debut after I figure out exactly who I am and what I like to do. I'm very close, this is true, to creating myself anew; it's a self-respect breakthrough, finding myself after you.
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66
There is one thing you must decide- Do not deny what you now feel Delay your plans, forget your pride Don’t push with doubt, just show what’s real On love’s debut, you cannot hide.
0
Feb 23, 2015
Feb 23, 2015 at 5:37 AM UTC
Love's Debut
How you mesmerize How you mimic the seasonal calm And quietude of the restless ocean How you bow in concentration To arch your absorbent nature And rapture in a cosmetic smile that Swallows like a whirl pool How you carry the gravitation field And the forces that pull and bind How you repel sadness and sorrow In all faces and brighten some gloomy soul How you set the stage for colorful dreams And some “sweetistic” imaginations How you define beauty in high definition A creature of absolutely amazing design Turning a ghostly atmosphere of earth Into a haze of bliss and paradise scenic Wafting some breeze of glory Refreshing souls lost the inferno beneath How you dim audacious eye gaze By the razor of your eyes that pierce How you outshine daylight and light Outsmarting the very phrase neat and tidy You’re the best and not the rest without debut It’s why they find no rest and burst for you How you dazzle and outwit Injecting madness in minds active Accelerating the speed of hormones Beyond light or supersonic speed Desire giving way to passion sway And the vocal chords automated confess it How you **** and make alive When you put it short and tight And the fabric can’t bear it a moment Reproducing a perfect figurine clone of yours As though you would burst out from it Electrify and sizzle hearts inflamed That’s how you mesmerize me Walk no more in my sight her highness How you catch my eye miss sacred And reign enthroned in my frontal lobe How you consume my thinkative energy And gear on the driving seat of my life
0
Feb 1, 2012
Feb 1, 2012 at 8:10 AM UTC
How you mesmerize
How you mesmerize How you mimic the seasonal calm And quietude of the restless ocean How you bow in concentration To arch your absorbent nature And rapture in a cosmetic smile that Swallows like a whirl pool How you carry the gravitation field And the forces that pull and bind How you repel sadness and sorrow In all faces and brighten some gloomy soul How you set the stage for colorful dreams And some “sweetistic” imaginations How you define beauty in high definition A creature of absolutely amazing design Turning a ghostly atmosphere of earth Into a haze of bliss and paradise scenic Wafting some breeze of glory Refreshing souls lost the inferno beneath How you dim audacious eye gaze By the razor of your eyes that pierce How you outshine daylight and light Outsmarting the very phrase neat and tidy You’re the best and not the rest without debut It’s why they find no rest and burst for you How you dazzle and outwit Injecting madness in minds active Accelerating the speed of hormones Beyond light or supersonic speed Desire giving way to passion sway And the vocal chords automated confess it How you **** and make alive When you put it short and tight And the fabric can’t bear it a moment Reproducing a perfect figurine clone of yours As though you would burst out from it Electrify and sizzle hearts inflamed That’s how you mesmerize me Walk no more in my sight her highness How you catch my eye miss sacred And reign enthroned in my frontal lobe How you consume my thinkative energy And gear on the driving seat of my life
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43
.you want to relearn the schoolyard? are you sure you want to relearn the schoolyard?! sure... we can relearn the schoolyard...  i have a theory though, and it goes along the lines of... you know those pedophile(s)? i have a theory... they're not exactly into smoking, or drinking... like... their female counterpart... i actually think women are afraid of young boys... for what young boys are, per se... well, given Muhammad, hyper-inflated interest in literacy... that covers the whole: illiterate prior, married to an older woman, not drinking, not smoking?! so what's your outlet?! to be an object of what... "subjects"... or to be a "subject" of what... objectifies... case in point, the nuance is interchangeable in the metaphor quadratic of wording... and no... not really... i find it hardly necessary to concern myself with making the sort if accuracy to give a metric unit basis of a centi-, or otherwise, etc. it's sheryl crow for fuck's sake... it's not            katty perry... that debut: was... pristine.. seminal... sure... my feet stink... what? what's wrong with Cheryl Crow?! you better be ******* with me for serious, otherwise i switch to: unhinged... a change? ***** won a ******* grammy! sure... she married a glorious child of the two pedals...    who faked Paris having faked a tourism ploy of France... it's still Sheryl Crow though! a trucker's daydream of perfect head, incubated by a mouth of an 18 year old boy... no... i like Alanis... when... whatever that was that came from a woman's mouth was... deemed, fun... now?        n'ah... not really. all i really want... that sort of **** was fun... now? i'm becoming more and more bemused by the fragrance of my socks, worn, second day to count thoroughly...               hand in my pocket... right through you... so... BIG daddy gonna come around to save this teenage girl's cherry *** the kind of daddy that could never have a beer with me? like i'm feeling that: while using my right hands when typing feels like i'm using my left hand, and vice versa?! no! i'm not having it! Cheryl Crow... &... Chrissie Hynde!             no... don't give me the ******* zig-zag argument suggesting i'm about to see something "better", via an X, cross-eyed... blurry, like some reverse Freudian fetish off Ariel, the mermaid, blurry, under the water... Disney princesses my *** head over feet... now... that's a song.
0
Oct 11, 2018
Oct 11, 2018 at 8:55 PM UTC
**** Alanis Morrissette!
.you want to relearn the schoolyard? are you sure you want to relearn the schoolyard?! sure... we can relearn the schoolyard...  i have a theory though, and it goes along the lines of... you know those pedophile(s)? i have a theory... they're not exactly into smoking, or drinking... like... their female counterpart... i actually think women are afraid of young boys... for what young boys are, per se... well, given Muhammad, hyper-inflated interest in literacy... that covers the whole: illiterate prior, married to an older woman, not drinking, not smoking?! so what's your outlet?! to be an object of what... "subjects"... or to be a "subject" of what... objectifies... case in point, the nuance is interchangeable in the metaphor quadratic of wording... and no... not really... i find it hardly necessary to concern myself with making the sort if accuracy to give a metric unit basis of a centi-, or otherwise, etc. it's sheryl crow for fuck's sake... it's not            katty perry... that debut: was... pristine.. seminal... sure... my feet stink... what? what's wrong with Cheryl Crow?! you better be ******* with me for serious, otherwise i switch to: unhinged... a change? ***** won a ******* grammy! sure... she married a glorious child of the two pedals...    who faked Paris having faked a tourism ploy of France... it's still Sheryl Crow though! a trucker's daydream of perfect head, incubated by a mouth of an 18 year old boy... no... i like Alanis... when... whatever that was that came from a woman's mouth was... deemed, fun... now?        n'ah... not really. all i really want... that sort of **** was fun... now? i'm becoming more and more bemused by the fragrance of my socks, worn, second day to count thoroughly...               hand in my pocket... right through you... so... BIG daddy gonna come around to save this teenage girl's cherry *** the kind of daddy that could never have a beer with me? like i'm feeling that: while using my right hands when typing feels like i'm using my left hand, and vice versa?! no! i'm not having it! Cheryl Crow... &... Chrissie Hynde!             no... don't give me the ******* zig-zag argument suggesting i'm about to see something "better", via an X, cross-eyed... blurry, like some reverse Freudian fetish off Ariel, the mermaid, blurry, under the water... Disney princesses my *** head over feet... now... that's a song.
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62
The boys were allergic But before Dad came along Mom had always been a cat whisperer I saw her do it at a party once Tongue rolling Fingers twitching From across the room The little panther was entranced Burn worthy witchcraft I knew she had a way with birds But this was something new Something foreign and beautiful Surprise surprise It was a black kitty cat Halloween Mom cut out ears to attach to my headband Then drew dark brown eyeliner whiskers With a triangle on the tip of my 6 year old nose All in black Part ninja Part cat We were off Brother and sister Pillowcases in hand Noticing my lack of tail Mom called me back She reached into the costume box and grabbed a long dark braid With one swift tuck into the back of my pants An instant flawless feline emerged ready to make her debut And boy did I play the part Prancing back from the hunt There she was silhouetted in the doorway Tongue rolling Fingers twitching ******* on sweet tarts I didn't stand a chance A family of actors "Mom, look what I found! Can we keep it?" They each took turns petting the newest addition And Dad let out a convincing sneeze A life I could get used to Tick Tock the cockatiel Had better watch her back E.Poe Oct 2012
0
Nov 5, 2013
Nov 5, 2013 at 3:39 AM UTC
I Hair Tail
Scorched pavement would hold on to day light. The concrete, still warm, would kiss my barefoot feet. Until dark I would roam on summer nights, tasting freedom in my midnight curfew. When autumn came, dancing in like blown leaves skinned off weary trees, the sumac flushed red as cardinals wings blanketing the landscape and reminding me that winter comes with a heavy hand. Bitter green apples fall from the backyard tree, does and fawns passing through to eat the fallen fruit are startled by me and dart back to the swamp where the fog rises up every night. Poplar trees stood tall while their leaves made the final kamikaze plunging fall. New Converse shoes made their debut on the way to school, briefly, happy. Winter brought isolation and dreams of still warm city streets under wandering feet. Holding out through cold purple glow, I wait for spring’s warmer air.
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Oct 3, 2014
Oct 3, 2014 at 3:58 PM UTC
S.A.D