"defensive" poems - Hello Poetry

"defensive" poems

passion thirst hurt ephemeral physical cold heat hunger water walking brutally real physical skin colors words spontaneous devious planned desire desired, physical concrete parchment thin muscled strong catch a caught physical making creating cresting cannot live without physical electric shocking eclectic varied realized why? stop here? eyed fingered tongue tasted, ear sensual dreamt famous buried tragic comedic gaming played unsafe at any speed languorous fire immolating physical chest pains, incurable incumbent to possess otherwise, death fingernails poking knuckle kissing lips wetting blood exchanging oh yeah physical foreign native young old permanently temporary infinitely finite definitely unending nowhere no expression dying dreams best better agonizing agonizing unrequited offer everything receive shoulder colder than hell defensive offensive cape laid walk on me chivalry until we hold each others fingers knotted until I stroke your hair unexpectedly, until we agree to hell with all the rest until we say the say the same thing simultaneously until we come together when we have satisfied each and every one of the above, freely confess know nothing of love but the picayune details that make us greater greater than greater, greatest, then and only then we, might have a few clues

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Sep 16, 2025

Sep 16, 2025 at 9:47 AM UTC

revised riposte: know nothing of "love"

passion thirst hurt ephemeral physical cold heat hunger water walking brutally real physical skin colors words spontaneous devious planned desire desired, physical concrete parchment thin muscled strong catch a caught physical making creating cresting cannot live without physical electric shocking eclectic varied realized why? stop here? eyed fingered tongue tasted, ear sensual dreamt famous buried tragic comedic gaming played unsafe at any speed languorous fire immolating physical chest pains, incurable incumbent to possess otherwise, death fingernails poking knuckle kissing lips wetting blood exchanging oh yeah physical foreign native young old permanently temporary infinitely finite definitely unending nowhere no expression dying dreams best better agonizing agonizing unrequited offer everything receive shoulder colder than hell defensive offensive cape laid walk on me chivalry until we hold each others fingers knotted until I stroke your hair unexpectedly, until we agree to hell with all the rest until we say the say the same thing simultaneously until we come together when we have satisfied each and every one of the above, freely confess know nothing of love but the picayune details that make us greater greater than greater, greatest, then and only then we, might have a few clues

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“I'm big, you're little. I'm smart, you're dumb. I'm right, you're wrong.” This is what you've taught me, but I've learned another way. I try to be so peaceful, I practice every day. I've been through quite a lot, And I've had to be so strong. My message must have gotten lost, been fighting for so long. You raised me as a woman, Yet you treat me like a man The way that I'm reacting often goes against my plan. I'm trying to reach out and you call it my excuse. What you see as parenting, Feels like abuse. I feel very threatened and begin to snap back; I realize my mistake too late, I try hard to retract. I need some space to breathe, I need a little air... You get so worked up; leaving no room for repair. I try to walk away, I try to be alone, But you will never let it be And that is set in stone. I feel backed into a corner, As though I have been trapped. You push me all my life And expect that I won't snap. I am very agile, But I am just a person. I try to learn to bend so the problem will not worsen. You think that I'm rebellious And full of disrespect Whenever I'm defensive As I am made upset. I don't want to feel scared And I don't want to feel pain, Once you introduce those feelings It can drive a girl insane. I'm sorry that I haven't turned out quite how you expected. My problems are ignored And my person feels rejected. Expose me to the anger of which I have been subjected... I forget why I'm hurting and I follow your objective. The things that I'm saying are just sitting in my head, You may not remember them as things that you once said. I don't mean to preach and I don't try to follow, But your anger is so loud That I find mine hard to swallow. I'll leave if you need me to, But that's not what i need. I want to coexist with you, I'm just not up to your speed. I need love and I need patience, But you have your own issues And you cannot face this. It's chalked down to "He's old and he'll never change his ways" If this isn't an excuse, I don't know what more to say. You think that we are different, but we are quite the same. You don't see yourself in me And I find that quite strange. You say I make my problems Into someone else's, While doing just the same... Am I the only one who is selfish? I never mean to do or say the things that I have I wish that you could help me out, but you are just my dad. You are who you are, no matter who it affects. I just have to get over it, as everyone expects. I'll try not to be like you; Try to avoid all of your habits. The idea is in front of me, I just can't seem to grab it.

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Apr 28, 2017

Apr 28, 2017 at 8:08 AM UTC

Rotted Apple and the Stubborn Tree.

“I'm big, you're little. I'm smart, you're dumb. I'm right, you're wrong.” This is what you've taught me, but I've learned another way. I try to be so peaceful, I practice every day. I've been through quite a lot, And I've had to be so strong. My message must have gotten lost, been fighting for so long. You raised me as a woman, Yet you treat me like a man The way that I'm reacting often goes against my plan. I'm trying to reach out and you call it my excuse. What you see as parenting, Feels like abuse. I feel very threatened and begin to snap back; I realize my mistake too late, I try hard to retract. I need some space to breathe, I need a little air... You get so worked up; leaving no room for repair. I try to walk away, I try to be alone, But you will never let it be And that is set in stone. I feel backed into a corner, As though I have been trapped. You push me all my life And expect that I won't snap. I am very agile, But I am just a person. I try to learn to bend so the problem will not worsen. You think that I'm rebellious And full of disrespect Whenever I'm defensive As I am made upset. I don't want to feel scared And I don't want to feel pain, Once you introduce those feelings It can drive a girl insane. I'm sorry that I haven't turned out quite how you expected. My problems are ignored And my person feels rejected. Expose me to the anger of which I have been subjected... I forget why I'm hurting and I follow your objective. The things that I'm saying are just sitting in my head, You may not remember them as things that you once said. I don't mean to preach and I don't try to follow, But your anger is so loud That I find mine hard to swallow. I'll leave if you need me to, But that's not what i need. I want to coexist with you, I'm just not up to your speed. I need love and I need patience, But you have your own issues And you cannot face this. It's chalked down to "He's old and he'll never change his ways" If this isn't an excuse, I don't know what more to say. You think that we are different, but we are quite the same. You don't see yourself in me And I find that quite strange. You say I make my problems Into someone else's, While doing just the same... Am I the only one who is selfish? I never mean to do or say the things that I have I wish that you could help me out, but you are just my dad. You are who you are, no matter who it affects. I just have to get over it, as everyone expects. I'll try not to be like you; Try to avoid all of your habits. The idea is in front of me, I just can't seem to grab it.

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Two fine films: The Lost City and Blood Diamond. I joined Blood Diamond during a village massacre and said to my wife A gun in every home. Those devils would think twice before razing the village and seizing the boys. A well-regulated militia. The local militia the most interesting moment in a strong film with motive (economic, emotional), action (chases, fights) and a **** sexless love story. Use of violence by the local militia for a limited purpose: protect the community, the young from the janjaweed. The crop from the **** Limited scope and defensive posture but armed and coordinated, cooperative, the men (and the women) side by side. Warriors at the gate, you will not run, you will not bargain. Just violence = limited scope, defensive posture. Great music. Cuba, Africa. The Lost City, when the communists tell the club owner under threat of violence No saxophones in the band. The saxophone! Invented by a Belgian--Look what the Belgians are doing in the Congo! When the state's violence is turned against the citizenry for non-violent acts. This quiet neighborhood, July, undergirded by violence, force. That's a given-- any farmer, custodian, EMT will tell you that. Without just violence Gandhi's scope, and King's, might be vanishingly limited, negligible (but not non-existent)? Regarding King the matter is simple -- he was non-violent but dependent upon federal force to counter the South's violence. No doubt without the larger force, the non-violent would be overwhelmed by southern violence. Here, non-violence was a tactic, not an ethic. Gandhi, however, had no violent partner to protect him from the British. Or did he? 1. There was the potential violence of the population, which Gandhi restrained but could release which the British feared, and 2. It was the restrained (limited scope) violence of the British that allowed Gandhi to exist rather than be extinguished--this restraint was a (British) cultural imperative (limited scope) as well as emanating from Britain's view of India as a protectorate and valued citizen of the United Kingdom (defensive posture). What about violence or threat of violence to compel compliance with community as in mortgage foreclosure, driving without license, drug possession. Perhaps it is necessary violence to maintain orderly commerce, the common space, and preempt bad behaviors associated with otherwise neutral, private acts. The defensive posture is the common good; the limited scope is forgoing deadly force. But the citizen, too, must maintain a disciplined, armed non-violence, in case the state (the janjaweed) engages in an unjust, autoimmune violence. Hence, a gun in every home.

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Aug 11, 2015

Aug 11, 2015 at 9:56 AM UTC

A Gun in Every Home

Two fine films: The Lost City and Blood Diamond. I joined Blood Diamond during a village massacre and said to my wife A gun in every home. Those devils would think twice before razing the village and seizing the boys. A well-regulated militia. The local militia the most interesting moment in a strong film with motive (economic, emotional), action (chases, fights) and a **** sexless love story. Use of violence by the local militia for a limited purpose: protect the community, the young from the janjaweed. The crop from the **** Limited scope and defensive posture but armed and coordinated, cooperative, the men (and the women) side by side. Warriors at the gate, you will not run, you will not bargain. Just violence = limited scope, defensive posture. Great music. Cuba, Africa. The Lost City, when the communists tell the club owner under threat of violence No saxophones in the band. The saxophone! Invented by a Belgian--Look what the Belgians are doing in the Congo! When the state's violence is turned against the citizenry for non-violent acts. This quiet neighborhood, July, undergirded by violence, force. That's a given-- any farmer, custodian, EMT will tell you that. Without just violence Gandhi's scope, and King's, might be vanishingly limited, negligible (but not non-existent)? Regarding King the matter is simple -- he was non-violent but dependent upon federal force to counter the South's violence. No doubt without the larger force, the non-violent would be overwhelmed by southern violence. Here, non-violence was a tactic, not an ethic. Gandhi, however, had no violent partner to protect him from the British. Or did he? 1. There was the potential violence of the population, which Gandhi restrained but could release which the British feared, and 2. It was the restrained (limited scope) violence of the British that allowed Gandhi to exist rather than be extinguished--this restraint was a (British) cultural imperative (limited scope) as well as emanating from Britain's view of India as a protectorate and valued citizen of the United Kingdom (defensive posture). What about violence or threat of violence to compel compliance with community as in mortgage foreclosure, driving without license, drug possession. Perhaps it is necessary violence to maintain orderly commerce, the common space, and preempt bad behaviors associated with otherwise neutral, private acts. The defensive posture is the common good; the limited scope is forgoing deadly force. But the citizen, too, must maintain a disciplined, armed non-violence, in case the state (the janjaweed) engages in an unjust, autoimmune violence. Hence, a gun in every home.

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Deep down in the inhospitable gloom Monterey Canyon welcomes an expectant mother Unnoticed in the distance a whirring sound and two parallel laser beams Miss Cellania finds a nook That instinct suggests is right A place to nest and brood A place to guard and wait 1.4 kilometers up a research institute Guided the unmanned submarine Correlated masses of data Stared at live video feed A unique event unfolded Capturing such a moment in this dark abyss Clinging to a vertical rock Her precious babies waiting to hatch Her final duty to Wait Wait Wait Wait Wait Protect from predators and the icy cold And so she began the Inky black wait Detached Alone The research crew returned later that year Miss Cellania dutifully kept her vigil They returned again month after month Still she stubbornly stuck to the task in hand The months turned to years And still she protected her unhatched young Clung to the same vertical spot With nothing to eat Alert, defensive Motherly Patiently waiting Wasting away Waiting Waiting Untill F i f t y t h r e e m o n t h s l a t e r Four and a half years Finally her wait ended With a flurry of independent life Then death.

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Aug 2, 2014

Aug 2, 2014 at 5:17 PM UTC

Miss Cellania - Mother Octopus

Deep down in the inhospitable gloom Monterey Canyon welcomes an expectant mother Unnoticed in the distance a whirring sound and two parallel laser beams Miss Cellania finds a nook That instinct suggests is right A place to nest and brood A place to guard and wait 1.4 kilometers up a research institute Guided the unmanned submarine Correlated masses of data Stared at live video feed A unique event unfolded Capturing such a moment in this dark abyss Clinging to a vertical rock Her precious babies waiting to hatch Her final duty to Wait Wait Wait Wait Wait Protect from predators and the icy cold And so she began the Inky black wait Detached Alone The research crew returned later that year Miss Cellania dutifully kept her vigil They returned again month after month Still she stubbornly stuck to the task in hand The months turned to years And still she protected her unhatched young Clung to the same vertical spot With nothing to eat Alert, defensive Motherly Patiently waiting Wasting away Waiting Waiting Untill F i f t y t h r e e m o n t h s l a t e r Four and a half years Finally her wait ended With a flurry of independent life Then death.

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I think it's my eyes. The glowing hazle stare blankly piercing through whatever bubbles you've shielded yourself with. Arms crossed means you're defensive, raised tone towards the end of a sentence means you're lying but when your lips scrunch together you're holding back something. Maybe it's my thought process. One second I'm talking about polar bears celebrating birthdays with ******* and hexagrams when I shift to a rant about my self empowerment through meditation and how astral travel might be real. Perhaps I'm too comfortable with myself for you to handle. I don't give a **** how tangled my hair is or what weird religious doctrines you follow. Let's have a conversation, not an unruly **** measuring contest. I truly love you, and all my mild frustration and slight agitation is radiating from a place in my heart that tells me I want you to succeed the most.

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Jul 3, 2012

Jul 3, 2012 at 6:21 PM UTC

I think it's my eyes. The glowing hazle stare blankly piercing through whatever bubbles you've shielded yourself with. Arms crossed means you're defensive, raised tone towards the end of a sentence means you're lying but when your lips scrunch together you're holding back something. Maybe it's my thought process. One second I'm talking about polar bears celebrating birthdays with ******* and hexagrams when I shift to a rant about my self empowerment through meditation and how astral travel might be real. Perhaps I'm too comfortable with myself for you to handle. I don't give a **** how tangled my hair is or what weird religious doctrines you follow. Let's have a conversation, not an unruly **** measuring contest. I truly love you, and all my mild frustration and slight agitation is radiating from a place in my heart that tells me I want you to succeed the most.

Continue reading...

i'm broken spaces, unnamed multitude faces: see wholes as fractals. i'm rubbed raw and sore, i'm ***** waves on the shore: rampant and rascal. lost in the spotlight, yet so defensive for fights: though impractical. i'm wanted by you, yet i question what is true: you falter and stall.

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Jan 8, 2014

Jan 8, 2014 at 3:58 PM UTC

i'm broken spaces, unnamed multitude faces: see wholes as fractals. i'm rubbed raw and sore, i'm ***** waves on the shore: rampant and rascal. lost in the spotlight, yet so defensive for fights: though impractical. i'm wanted by you, yet i question what is true: you falter and stall.

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Love trusts, lust twists Love rains, lust drains Love reaches, lust catches Love couples, lust combines Love retains, lust detains Love relies, lust relays Love cares, lust caresses Love binds, lust blinds Love floats, lust flees Love belongs, lust longs Love ascends, lust descends Love fames, lust defames Love creates, lust recreates Love commands, lust demands Love chooses, lust chases Love boosts, lust boasts Love at heart Lust in mind Love in lust is good Lust in love is better Love likes privacy Lust looks for piracy Love opens lust Lust closes love Love is slow, lust is fast Love is steady and stable Lust is mobile and fragile Love is reliable, lust is liable Love is long, lust is short Love is homogeneous Lust is heterogeneous Love is defensive Lust is offensive Love is precious Lust is pernicious Love is supportive Lust is supplementary Love is refined Lust is defined Love betters life Lust batters it. Love has character Lust has conduct Love wins over Lust weans out Love combines Lust divides Love is cool Lust is crazy Love is peaceful Lust is pleasant Love is wholesome Lust is piecemeal Lust comes first Love becomes best Love is progressive Lust is aggressive Lust laminates Love illuminates Love is slow n steady Lust is hasty n nasty Love is dense, lust is tense Lust is conditioned, Love is air-conditioned Lust is lovely to begin with Love is lustrous to end up Love heals, lust wounds Love owns, lust disowns Love is onus, lust is onerous Love is basic, lust is allowance Love conforms, lust confuses Love binds, lust blinds Be aware of love Beware of lust That comes like wolf in sheep’s clothing Let the fair blend of love and lust rule the roost

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Feb 4, 2015

Feb 4, 2015 at 5:15 AM UTC

Dynamics of love

Love trusts, lust twists Love rains, lust drains Love reaches, lust catches Love couples, lust combines Love retains, lust detains Love relies, lust relays Love cares, lust caresses Love binds, lust blinds Love floats, lust flees Love belongs, lust longs Love ascends, lust descends Love fames, lust defames Love creates, lust recreates Love commands, lust demands Love chooses, lust chases Love boosts, lust boasts Love at heart Lust in mind Love in lust is good Lust in love is better Love likes privacy Lust looks for piracy Love opens lust Lust closes love Love is slow, lust is fast Love is steady and stable Lust is mobile and fragile Love is reliable, lust is liable Love is long, lust is short Love is homogeneous Lust is heterogeneous Love is defensive Lust is offensive Love is precious Lust is pernicious Love is supportive Lust is supplementary Love is refined Lust is defined Love betters life Lust batters it. Love has character Lust has conduct Love wins over Lust weans out Love combines Lust divides Love is cool Lust is crazy Love is peaceful Lust is pleasant Love is wholesome Lust is piecemeal Lust comes first Love becomes best Love is progressive Lust is aggressive Lust laminates Love illuminates Love is slow n steady Lust is hasty n nasty Love is dense, lust is tense Lust is conditioned, Love is air-conditioned Lust is lovely to begin with Love is lustrous to end up Love heals, lust wounds Love owns, lust disowns Love is onus, lust is onerous Love is basic, lust is allowance Love conforms, lust confuses Love binds, lust blinds Be aware of love Beware of lust That comes like wolf in sheep’s clothing Let the fair blend of love and lust rule the roost

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This was a hard few days filled with sadness and sometimes frustration. I was on the defensive when I thought that I was being rudely attacked. When all it was, was anger over something that had made you so upset. I guess I wasn't used to having to be careful with my words & thoughts. Well, let's forget about anything that was ever said between you and I. I just feel happy that I can finally be fully happy because you now are. Which means that we can both be happy together and do things now. I was trying to help and it made me think of where we both are now. Just thinking of the time that I've wasting not asking for permission. I can't waste any more time that we both have together, I know that. Babe, it's you and me, now more than it ever has been before really ever. I want you to know that I will try to be the best for both you and me. Wow, I've never written anything like this before now, so I'll stop now. I guess I'm just trying to say that I'm happy and will be forever more.

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Feb 23, 2015

Feb 23, 2015 at 4:47 PM UTC

natasha-n-koucoules

Happy to be Happy Again

This was a hard few days filled with sadness and sometimes frustration. I was on the defensive when I thought that I was being rudely attacked. When all it was, was anger over something that had made you so upset. I guess I wasn't used to having to be careful with my words & thoughts. Well, let's forget about anything that was ever said between you and I. I just feel happy that I can finally be fully happy because you now are. Which means that we can both be happy together and do things now. I was trying to help and it made me think of where we both are now. Just thinking of the time that I've wasting not asking for permission. I can't waste any more time that we both have together, I know that. Babe, it's you and me, now more than it ever has been before really ever. I want you to know that I will try to be the best for both you and me. Wow, I've never written anything like this before now, so I'll stop now. I guess I'm just trying to say that I'm happy and will be forever more.

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A girl stood before me at the supermarket a few random items littered her basket pink socks poked out from her sneakers they were covered with little creatures an inch of flesh stood between those ankle high socks and her jeans. Nice socks I exclaimed! she turned around inflamed looked at me and said I have a boyfriend her face now red. Are they his I asked? her face broke into a laugh *sorry I got so defensive guys make me apprehensive I don't really have a boyfriend sometimes I just like to pretend.* *I know how you feel I replied in embarrassment I've often lied and whenever I'm struck by beauty of someone new I meet I can't look directly at them I look towards their feet.*

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Oct 27, 2016

Oct 27, 2016 at 8:31 PM UTC

A girl stood before me at the supermarket a few random items littered her basket pink socks poked out from her sneakers they were covered with little creatures an inch of flesh stood between those ankle high socks and her jeans. Nice socks I exclaimed! she turned around inflamed looked at me and said I have a boyfriend her face now red. Are they his I asked? her face broke into a laugh *sorry I got so defensive guys make me apprehensive I don't really have a boyfriend sometimes I just like to pretend.* *I know how you feel I replied in embarrassment I've often lied and whenever I'm struck by beauty of someone new I meet I can't look directly at them I look towards their feet.*

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You call it self-esteem, But I'm out of steam To fight this fight That you call life. I'm stuck in between ... unseen. My time to shine? I don't have time to polish, To wade through this anguish That binds me to my anxiety. Instead, I hide. You are the only one Who sees me for me; Yet you don't know how to help me Become the me I want to be. Why am I so defensive, Unable to express myself? I'm tired ... I'm wired, I'm all fired up ... But before I get started, I find myself guarded. I weep myself to sleep - Maybe tomorrow I'll try again. (March 2012)

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Mar 20, 2012

Mar 20, 2012 at 8:46 PM UTC

Anxiety Personified

You call it self-esteem, But I'm out of steam To fight this fight That you call life. I'm stuck in between ... unseen. My time to shine? I don't have time to polish, To wade through this anguish That binds me to my anxiety. Instead, I hide. You are the only one Who sees me for me; Yet you don't know how to help me Become the me I want to be. Why am I so defensive, Unable to express myself? I'm tired ... I'm wired, I'm all fired up ... But before I get started, I find myself guarded. I weep myself to sleep - Maybe tomorrow I'll try again. (March 2012)

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Tipping point reached, one final breath Let the waves of inertia crash, contaminate .... Alone in complexity, machinery, and everything Perfectly formed human being Slowly turning sour by the minute Stale air, only growing in its bitter taste as Seconds that feel like hours, add to feel like years All the plans i made All the plans i planned to make Gone, but not forgotten But then they were gone Truer statement never read then What i read on the back of the final bit found Within my reach Filtered through a layer of sediment settled over my vision Sanitized as life had been But my shelter having been breached To seep much longer... Too accustomed, but it doesn't help Found lacking in the company I had hoped to keep A poor atonement, sinking further Or, it kept rising I was nearly covered. ..... They stepped a little closer And left appalled by what they found Rotting in the dark, silently Defensive at the outset, shaking at the sound Sounding incomplete Face down this Eventual ending For me

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Jul 28, 2018

Jul 28, 2018 at 5:12 AM UTC

Tipping point reached, one final breath Let the waves of inertia crash, contaminate .... Alone in complexity, machinery, and everything Perfectly formed human being Slowly turning sour by the minute Stale air, only growing in its bitter taste as Seconds that feel like hours, add to feel like years All the plans i made All the plans i planned to make Gone, but not forgotten But then they were gone Truer statement never read then What i read on the back of the final bit found Within my reach Filtered through a layer of sediment settled over my vision Sanitized as life had been But my shelter having been breached To seep much longer... Too accustomed, but it doesn't help Found lacking in the company I had hoped to keep A poor atonement, sinking further Or, it kept rising I was nearly covered. ..... They stepped a little closer And left appalled by what they found Rotting in the dark, silently Defensive at the outset, shaking at the sound Sounding incomplete Face down this Eventual ending For me

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practicing mental gymnastics insipid memories seeping their way past defensive buffers remembering repressed poisons as a catalyst for making wiser decisions lackadaisical reactions to sharply defined parallaxes warrant an immediate shift fractal spectacles the labyrinth of my innards inhale the cosmological smoke of suggestion words become meaningless when repeated exhaustively semantic satiation slicing away at true intentions paving the way to false inventiveness shallow river beds are loud prouder than their counterparts insecurity overshadows a lack of faith in the faint of heart everything worthwhile falls apart

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Sep 27, 2014

Sep 27, 2014 at 1:38 AM UTC

practicing mental gymnastics insipid memories seeping their way past defensive buffers remembering repressed poisons as a catalyst for making wiser decisions lackadaisical reactions to sharply defined parallaxes warrant an immediate shift fractal spectacles the labyrinth of my innards inhale the cosmological smoke of suggestion words become meaningless when repeated exhaustively semantic satiation slicing away at true intentions paving the way to false inventiveness shallow river beds are loud prouder than their counterparts insecurity overshadows a lack of faith in the faint of heart everything worthwhile falls apart

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*He makes me feel beautiful* Which I have never felt before I've always had my doubts and could never be too sure Cause they told me I was ugly They told me I was fat They joked about me and never had regrets And I sat there and I laughed it off but it hurt me inside So bad that I got off the bus and ran straight to my room to cry And I got on my knees and prayed at my window and asked the lord "Why is this happening to me?" and it started when I was four And yes, I still remember that far back Cause being bullied is it's own feeling of being jumped or attacked And *he makes me feel beautiful* Cause he looks me in my eyes and tells me that I am and I can tell it's not a lie... Because instead of posting pictures I have edited and cropped And having boys tell me I'm pretty through messages in my inbox... *He makes me feel beautiful* Cause he means what he says And a few other people have told me I am cute but I thought they were just kidding Cause I have programmed myself to thinking my beauty is forbidden Which means that I could never be a girl that is praised For her good looks, her perfect body, and her Aphrodite face. *He makes me feel beautiful* Cause even though I have flaws He accepts them and makes me feel like I have none at all So maybe I am pretty and I am starting to think better Of myself instead of looking in the mirror with a look so bitter *He makes me feel beautiful* And when he tells me so with such a serious voice, I get chills Cause he's the first person that hasn't made me feel completely ill By insulting or pointing out one of my many imperfections But instead trying to help get rid if that negative venom That people have slowly injected into my mind Making my optimism die slowly over time Making me get violent and defensive and making me less kind To the point I get a rush to commit a deadly crime Then they say I'm crazy and continue with the names It's a cycle, a stupid circle, a horrible made up game That has expanded to the point where death is how you win And I would of won this game if it wasn't for my kin *He makes me feel beautiful* outside and in So I wrote this in dedication to that special him For helping me realize more than ever in my life That maybe I am beautiful and I've been this way for a very long time...

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May 2, 2014

May 2, 2014 at 7:07 PM UTC

He Makes Me Feel Beautiful

*He makes me feel beautiful* Which I have never felt before I've always had my doubts and could never be too sure Cause they told me I was ugly They told me I was fat They joked about me and never had regrets And I sat there and I laughed it off but it hurt me inside So bad that I got off the bus and ran straight to my room to cry And I got on my knees and prayed at my window and asked the lord "Why is this happening to me?" and it started when I was four And yes, I still remember that far back Cause being bullied is it's own feeling of being jumped or attacked And *he makes me feel beautiful* Cause he looks me in my eyes and tells me that I am and I can tell it's not a lie... Because instead of posting pictures I have edited and cropped And having boys tell me I'm pretty through messages in my inbox... *He makes me feel beautiful* Cause he means what he says And a few other people have told me I am cute but I thought they were just kidding Cause I have programmed myself to thinking my beauty is forbidden Which means that I could never be a girl that is praised For her good looks, her perfect body, and her Aphrodite face. *He makes me feel beautiful* Cause even though I have flaws He accepts them and makes me feel like I have none at all So maybe I am pretty and I am starting to think better Of myself instead of looking in the mirror with a look so bitter *He makes me feel beautiful* And when he tells me so with such a serious voice, I get chills Cause he's the first person that hasn't made me feel completely ill By insulting or pointing out one of my many imperfections But instead trying to help get rid if that negative venom That people have slowly injected into my mind Making my optimism die slowly over time Making me get violent and defensive and making me less kind To the point I get a rush to commit a deadly crime Then they say I'm crazy and continue with the names It's a cycle, a stupid circle, a horrible made up game That has expanded to the point where death is how you win And I would of won this game if it wasn't for my kin *He makes me feel beautiful* outside and in So I wrote this in dedication to that special him For helping me realize more than ever in my life That maybe I am beautiful and I've been this way for a very long time...

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~ each intersection, a crossroad made, every answer, a question began; each wrong, a right opposing, every song, a note composing, after darkness, the light again! angry words won’t heal the pain, apologies like ointment’s rain; flood-washed roads a crossing need, no line in sand, a bridge instead, points me north, your heart to claim! i am no island, though often seems, my pained retreat, a blood trail leaves; i find my greatest strength of all, within your heart’s loving embrace, held firmly in your grip of grace! there is no strength in platitudes, cliches are weak, like worn out shoes; the darkened bank cannot hold sway, o’er lighted bridge that leads the way, points me north, and back to you! ~ *post script. learning something of defense mechanisms, mine in particular; sadly, when brokenness is too acute to hide, the retreat is not bloodless. bridges built of simple three-word sentences greatly needed ... not a crafted flood of well-worded, defensive responses. “i am sorry!” and “i love you!”... two, eight-letter, three-cord ropes, requiring no word-smithing, yet are sound-ly engineered for mending souls and building hearts-bridges not easily broken... each capable of bearing (baring) great weights. and yes, there are notes composing here, for it is said, “a song solidifies the heart’s passionate decisions!”*

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Jul 23, 2016

Jul 23, 2016 at 1:08 PM UTC

~ each intersection, a crossroad made, every answer, a question began; each wrong, a right opposing, every song, a note composing, after darkness, the light again! angry words won’t heal the pain, apologies like ointment’s rain; flood-washed roads a crossing need, no line in sand, a bridge instead, points me north, your heart to claim! i am no island, though often seems, my pained retreat, a blood trail leaves; i find my greatest strength of all, within your heart’s loving embrace, held firmly in your grip of grace! there is no strength in platitudes, cliches are weak, like worn out shoes; the darkened bank cannot hold sway, o’er lighted bridge that leads the way, points me north, and back to you! ~ *post script. learning something of defense mechanisms, mine in particular; sadly, when brokenness is too acute to hide, the retreat is not bloodless. bridges built of simple three-word sentences greatly needed ... not a crafted flood of well-worded, defensive responses. “i am sorry!” and “i love you!”... two, eight-letter, three-cord ropes, requiring no word-smithing, yet are sound-ly engineered for mending souls and building hearts-bridges not easily broken... each capable of bearing (baring) great weights. and yes, there are notes composing here, for it is said, “a song solidifies the heart’s passionate decisions!”*

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Never tell the girl with messy hair and wide eyes that when her father sexually abused her they were, "fooling around." Fooling around is a consensual act between two lovers, friends, or strangers in which both gain pleasure and to make her feel as though that is something she did is degrading and destructive. She's already been through that once. When I got that anonymous question asking me "why is it when you fool around with your dad, no one gets in trouble, but when I do it I'm a ****** I almost snapped. The smell of cheap beer formed under my nose and the entire contents of my stomach almost fell to the side of my bed, however, I had not eaten enough to push all of my mental instability out of my mouth. I could feel my father's hands around my wrist, pulling, pinning, calloused hands scratching my nine year old skin. I could hear my young cries for help, and the tears staining my cheeks. I could feel the air on my ear as he whispered. "Tell anyone and it'll be worse next time." I remembered cleaning my own blood from the carpet that afternoon. And I almost replied with a defensive remark, but I stopped. There was no need for this private matter to be put on display on a social media forum, because then who's the girl that "fooled around" with her father? But then the question, it irks me to my very core, the reason my hands are so swiftly typing this poem between waves of hurricanes in my eyes. It's as if my dignity has been stripped from me again, no more layer of scar tissue to protect even the deepest layers of my darkest secrets. Nothing was safe anymore. And when I showed it to my boyfriend, the look in his eyes terrified me. It was as if someone had just dropped a match on a mile long pile of bone dry trees doused in gasoline. But someone had. Someone had dropped a match on me, just as fragile and capable of burning up completely. Never tell the girl with messy hair and wide eyes that when her father sexually abused her they were, "fooling around." Fooling around is a consensual act between two lovers, friends, or strangers in which both gain pleasure and to make her feel as though that is something she did is degrading and destructive. She's already been through that once.

0

Feb 5, 2016

Feb 5, 2016 at 8:59 AM UTC

PTSD: A Slam Poem

Never tell the girl with messy hair and wide eyes that when her father sexually abused her they were, "fooling around." Fooling around is a consensual act between two lovers, friends, or strangers in which both gain pleasure and to make her feel as though that is something she did is degrading and destructive. She's already been through that once. When I got that anonymous question asking me "why is it when you fool around with your dad, no one gets in trouble, but when I do it I'm a ****** I almost snapped. The smell of cheap beer formed under my nose and the entire contents of my stomach almost fell to the side of my bed, however, I had not eaten enough to push all of my mental instability out of my mouth. I could feel my father's hands around my wrist, pulling, pinning, calloused hands scratching my nine year old skin. I could hear my young cries for help, and the tears staining my cheeks. I could feel the air on my ear as he whispered. "Tell anyone and it'll be worse next time." I remembered cleaning my own blood from the carpet that afternoon. And I almost replied with a defensive remark, but I stopped. There was no need for this private matter to be put on display on a social media forum, because then who's the girl that "fooled around" with her father? But then the question, it irks me to my very core, the reason my hands are so swiftly typing this poem between waves of hurricanes in my eyes. It's as if my dignity has been stripped from me again, no more layer of scar tissue to protect even the deepest layers of my darkest secrets. Nothing was safe anymore. And when I showed it to my boyfriend, the look in his eyes terrified me. It was as if someone had just dropped a match on a mile long pile of bone dry trees doused in gasoline. But someone had. Someone had dropped a match on me, just as fragile and capable of burning up completely. Never tell the girl with messy hair and wide eyes that when her father sexually abused her they were, "fooling around." Fooling around is a consensual act between two lovers, friends, or strangers in which both gain pleasure and to make her feel as though that is something she did is degrading and destructive. She's already been through that once.

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Dear, let me tenderize you like meat slap the silliness from heat bubbling bubbling bubbling to a boil. Dear, let me technically arouse you by letting each word escape like exasperation, a depletion of the senses as every finger or pressure point examines your body from head-to-toe. Dear, let me be no longer ashamed to touch or hold you close, let our breathing and beating submerge into higher thinking. Incinerating flames that lick the grate. Dear, let me dive deep into the crevice of your brain, all mushy grey matter, all the same. Dear, let me slice it open and **** out all the juices, licking licking licking each curve and crevice, My supple pink snake-like tongue reaching deeper deeper deeper into your mind. Dear, let me sink into your reality, bit by bit, and piece by piece until cohesiveness lays its eggs inside the deep hole within you. Dear, let me scratch the surface, trading dimes for dust and pecs for fluff. Let me swim in the depths of your hectic personality. Let me get to know you and all your originality. Let me breathe in your values and slurp up your mature decisions. Let me caress your life like two bulbous lights that hang from the existence of time. Let me illuminate you, serenade you, quiz you while ********* your sense of self-esteem. Dear, let me dream your dreams. Dear, let me sink my ***** mind games into your wet social brain. Don’t let the pressure get to you. Passion may play a key part in the sway! Let me suckle your sweet thoughts, play with your deriving initiatives. Let me hold your ideas in the sweat of my thighs, burning with desire to see myself through cobalt eyes. Let me feel the hot ***** of your ethical intentions and clear apparitions. Let me analyze your prerogatives and **** with your distribution methods. Dear, let me fiddle with your political views, (in the “other room”) and tickle your soft solutions on creating a world of doom. Let me ****** your sustainability, flirt with your progressive mindset, and squeeze your plump ambitions until they burst! Dear, let me push gently on your sensitive issues with your parents until they become less apparent. Let me stroke your disagreements with foreign policy until they shriek with mercy! Let me take you further and touch your blind senses to a pink paranoia of retentive defensive pretenses. Let me cuddle and snuggle your sense of self-worth and pleasure your brain with mind-bending words. Dear, let me dance with your intelligence until we sink into oblivious mind-sex bliss…….

0

Nov 7, 2015

Nov 7, 2015 at 11:31 AM UTC

Dear, let me tenderize you like meat slap the silliness from heat bubbling bubbling bubbling to a boil. Dear, let me technically arouse you by letting each word escape like exasperation, a depletion of the senses as every finger or pressure point examines your body from head-to-toe. Dear, let me be no longer ashamed to touch or hold you close, let our breathing and beating submerge into higher thinking. Incinerating flames that lick the grate. Dear, let me dive deep into the crevice of your brain, all mushy grey matter, all the same. Dear, let me slice it open and **** out all the juices, licking licking licking each curve and crevice, My supple pink snake-like tongue reaching deeper deeper deeper into your mind. Dear, let me sink into your reality, bit by bit, and piece by piece until cohesiveness lays its eggs inside the deep hole within you. Dear, let me scratch the surface, trading dimes for dust and pecs for fluff. Let me swim in the depths of your hectic personality. Let me get to know you and all your originality. Let me breathe in your values and slurp up your mature decisions. Let me caress your life like two bulbous lights that hang from the existence of time. Let me illuminate you, serenade you, quiz you while ********* your sense of self-esteem. Dear, let me dream your dreams. Dear, let me sink my ***** mind games into your wet social brain. Don’t let the pressure get to you. Passion may play a key part in the sway! Let me suckle your sweet thoughts, play with your deriving initiatives. Let me hold your ideas in the sweat of my thighs, burning with desire to see myself through cobalt eyes. Let me feel the hot ***** of your ethical intentions and clear apparitions. Let me analyze your prerogatives and **** with your distribution methods. Dear, let me fiddle with your political views, (in the “other room”) and tickle your soft solutions on creating a world of doom. Let me ****** your sustainability, flirt with your progressive mindset, and squeeze your plump ambitions until they burst! Dear, let me push gently on your sensitive issues with your parents until they become less apparent. Let me stroke your disagreements with foreign policy until they shriek with mercy! Let me take you further and touch your blind senses to a pink paranoia of retentive defensive pretenses. Let me cuddle and snuggle your sense of self-worth and pleasure your brain with mind-bending words. Dear, let me dance with your intelligence until we sink into oblivious mind-sex bliss…….

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Your garden was lush with poetic wildflowers yet, darkness swayed its spirit 'neath teeming salt tear hazes, tried to enrich the soil but ground cover was defensive, hardened by winters' of contrary disconnectedness

0

Jul 16, 2015

Jul 16, 2015 at 10:56 AM UTC

poetessa-diabolical

Contrary Disconnect

Your garden was lush with poetic wildflowers yet, darkness swayed its spirit 'neath teeming salt tear hazes, tried to enrich the soil but ground cover was defensive, hardened by winters' of contrary disconnectedness

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I'm trending love. I'm trending hate. I'm trending the fact that you always reply a little too late. I'm telling you that you are less than enough. And when you **** me, its a little too rough. Pounding away like you're shooting a gun. All too soon. I never come. Too pretty to make you feel let down. Fake it always, you're the shittest rodeo clown. Take off your ****** face. Eat me wide, go on, give me a taste. Sink your teeth into my bare flesh, feel my history in my blood seek me out in all my mess. I am showing you darling in my very sweet tones that my succinct naivety is nothing more, than what you want from your white ash bones. I am trending you I am trending your **** I am trending the look you wear and the music you rock. I am seeking a feeling more than text, a wink or smiley face. Look, At, ME. Am i that easy to replace? Bitterness is found in the sweetest pill i'll bend your *** i'll bend you over, I'll **** you at will. I will move my trend towards your neck outpour my lack of interest in your ear, tell you what it is you want to hear. **** you, and **** your nation. **** your distinctive'taste', and your senseless judgement and interrogation. I am not some sweet-ass-fuck-drive-by-shooter-girl, I have ******* brains, I am seconds away from tearing apart your world. I am living safely from behind my defensive line of white hair, **** that **** i don't want closeness rip my clothes off, don't leave till i'm wanton and bare. Oh and i am trending your messages I am trending all of you. I am not trending depression, ****** up or feeling blue. I am trending love, trending the great divide. I made it through and over, to the other side. I am not what you will ever believe me to be a glimmer, of a hint, in a riddle, is all you will see. I am trending what is insane, and what is not, I am thinking, your thinking of, 'what the **** has this girl got?' I am not here to make you laugh, or for you to wish for more, I am here to be left broken and wet, on your kitchen floor. I am trending honest, i am trending passion and life, I am trending a big fat ****** smile, Because I am not your possession or your future wife. I am not trending your **** size, or your 16 positions in one night, I don't want you to cry on my shoulder I am not trending 'your mother', i have earnt that right. Look, At. ME. Second chances rarely come as few and when i walk away, i will walk away with a taste of you. I am sweetness, i am luxury divine, make me bite you, scratch your back, forget the time. But at my cost, at my control, this will be, you are not my attachment, my soul is not your key. I am trending love, i am trending ME for what is locked within, is never for free. **** Me. What a trend

0

May 22, 2013

May 22, 2013 at 5:50 PM UTC

rachael-stainthorpe

Quick ****** trend

I'm trending love. I'm trending hate. I'm trending the fact that you always reply a little too late. I'm telling you that you are less than enough. And when you **** me, its a little too rough. Pounding away like you're shooting a gun. All too soon. I never come. Too pretty to make you feel let down. Fake it always, you're the shittest rodeo clown. Take off your ****** face. Eat me wide, go on, give me a taste. Sink your teeth into my bare flesh, feel my history in my blood seek me out in all my mess. I am showing you darling in my very sweet tones that my succinct naivety is nothing more, than what you want from your white ash bones. I am trending you I am trending your **** I am trending the look you wear and the music you rock. I am seeking a feeling more than text, a wink or smiley face. Look, At, ME. Am i that easy to replace? Bitterness is found in the sweetest pill i'll bend your *** i'll bend you over, I'll **** you at will. I will move my trend towards your neck outpour my lack of interest in your ear, tell you what it is you want to hear. **** you, and **** your nation. **** your distinctive'taste', and your senseless judgement and interrogation. I am not some sweet-ass-fuck-drive-by-shooter-girl, I have ******* brains, I am seconds away from tearing apart your world. I am living safely from behind my defensive line of white hair, **** that **** i don't want closeness rip my clothes off, don't leave till i'm wanton and bare. Oh and i am trending your messages I am trending all of you. I am not trending depression, ****** up or feeling blue. I am trending love, trending the great divide. I made it through and over, to the other side. I am not what you will ever believe me to be a glimmer, of a hint, in a riddle, is all you will see. I am trending what is insane, and what is not, I am thinking, your thinking of, 'what the **** has this girl got?' I am not here to make you laugh, or for you to wish for more, I am here to be left broken and wet, on your kitchen floor. I am trending honest, i am trending passion and life, I am trending a big fat ****** smile, Because I am not your possession or your future wife. I am not trending your **** size, or your 16 positions in one night, I don't want you to cry on my shoulder I am not trending 'your mother', i have earnt that right. Look, At. ME. Second chances rarely come as few and when i walk away, i will walk away with a taste of you. I am sweetness, i am luxury divine, make me bite you, scratch your back, forget the time. But at my cost, at my control, this will be, you are not my attachment, my soul is not your key. I am trending love, i am trending ME for what is locked within, is never for free. **** Me. What a trend

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When weak people tease You see as people go about every day life, they push people around a lot and also another thing they do as well, you see mate is try and tease in a way to make people jitter and even if they might not look like they don't know how to tease, they are teasing they are trying to bring all their friends together and tease them, and they are trying to tease the little shy boy, even if that they are little shy boys anyway, because at least I have a life and I want to be rich and famous, while people are trying to tease in so many ways, like one way they are prepared to say shut up **** every time he says something and when he goes on the computer, he can hear his dad saying be a little teasie, because his dad said that he us shy and some young hooligans said we'll kidnap him to tease him, even if they are trying to make him jitter, even if they are as weak as ****** **** you see people should do volunteer work and do are had write poems and be cool, while my dad is saying your still either a kid or a lady and my new mate is teasing me with his friends, first he invites me over, so he can be helped by me and then he invitesj some other mentally ill people over and started to tease me with his friends because he is saying that your still a little shy boy, and he will say that he ain't shy to complain about work and remain poor, just as Long as he has his fun teasing, and he says that that you are still a defensive little **** and you know you need to realise that I ain't shy to tease you buddy, I will drink alcohol over you and then I will go to pub and have a few alcoholic beverages avd say that you are still getting teased even if it makes him look like a ****** geek, and only geeks tease like that anyway, because they try to tease in so many ways and even if they are little geeky kids, they try and avoid being treated like a geek by saying that they are a teasing but the thing is whether they are teasing or not, they are still a pack of geeks and they will all die long and painfull deaths, and they aren't really cool but they will say that they are teasing to avoid getting teased themselves, they are all a pack of shy ***** who really aren't coping with life very well, so they try and tesse, and that is the end of another instalment

0

Aug 5, 2015

Aug 5, 2015 at 10:43 PM UTC

johnny-georgy-brown

when weak people tease

When weak people tease You see as people go about every day life, they push people around a lot and also another thing they do as well, you see mate is try and tease in a way to make people jitter and even if they might not look like they don't know how to tease, they are teasing they are trying to bring all their friends together and tease them, and they are trying to tease the little shy boy, even if that they are little shy boys anyway, because at least I have a life and I want to be rich and famous, while people are trying to tease in so many ways, like one way they are prepared to say shut up **** every time he says something and when he goes on the computer, he can hear his dad saying be a little teasie, because his dad said that he us shy and some young hooligans said we'll kidnap him to tease him, even if they are trying to make him jitter, even if they are as weak as ****** **** you see people should do volunteer work and do are had write poems and be cool, while my dad is saying your still either a kid or a lady and my new mate is teasing me with his friends, first he invites me over, so he can be helped by me and then he invitesj some other mentally ill people over and started to tease me with his friends because he is saying that your still a little shy boy, and he will say that he ain't shy to complain about work and remain poor, just as Long as he has his fun teasing, and he says that that you are still a defensive little **** and you know you need to realise that I ain't shy to tease you buddy, I will drink alcohol over you and then I will go to pub and have a few alcoholic beverages avd say that you are still getting teased even if it makes him look like a ****** geek, and only geeks tease like that anyway, because they try to tease in so many ways and even if they are little geeky kids, they try and avoid being treated like a geek by saying that they are a teasing but the thing is whether they are teasing or not, they are still a pack of geeks and they will all die long and painfull deaths, and they aren't really cool but they will say that they are teasing to avoid getting teased themselves, they are all a pack of shy ***** who really aren't coping with life very well, so they try and tesse, and that is the end of another instalment

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I find it interesting, The way we mold ourselves to the given situation Different faces means new spaces to fill liquid in, intoxicate, and ultimately change them. So we need our weapons clasped in our grip catch a bad intention, make sure they're the ones who slip... No! We've been doing this all wrong. Keeping the walls up inhibits growth to be strong Even if it takes, "far, too long." Inevitably we exclaim pitches that reside in the same song. The color-changing, tree-walkers are said to blend into their environment. This is actually not true. They change based on light intensity, temperature, and mood. The personality-changing, free-walkers change based, On the type of reaction they want to get out of you. After all you could be the ***** to hold together the whole scheme Caught in a feverish nightmare, when it seemed to be a sweet dream Solitary work is needed, now, to avoid a potential sting And so I take the time to rhyme this, Evaluating the nature of everything. The mouth can be, but the eyes are not untruthful They precipitate pictures, from the scary to the downright beautiful Look deep within yourself, and see your own array of colors. We may be blind to the importance of some priorities, but I feel we're all lovers. "Hurt people hurt people," In my life it's a fact. But remember you can only be responsible for how you act. No offense or defensive tactics, Throw the whole playbook out. Conducting this vessel requires much practice, Reflect needs of warmth for the seeds to sprout Make sure you don't love someone, just for what they can give to you. Highlight their radiance, for making you feel the way you do The cycle, is only as vicious as one portrays it The choice is ours, and I choose to change it. Right here, right now Breathe in, Feel the oxygen go down Hold it, For a moment Every exhale reminds us, That life's color is golden. So fold up the clothes, And walk out the door. So many illuminated pigmentations to see, ~Everybody's a new world to explore~

0

Jan 4, 2014

Jan 4, 2014 at 4:08 PM UTC

I find it interesting, The way we mold ourselves to the given situation Different faces means new spaces to fill liquid in, intoxicate, and ultimately change them. So we need our weapons clasped in our grip catch a bad intention, make sure they're the ones who slip... No! We've been doing this all wrong. Keeping the walls up inhibits growth to be strong Even if it takes, "far, too long." Inevitably we exclaim pitches that reside in the same song. The color-changing, tree-walkers are said to blend into their environment. This is actually not true. They change based on light intensity, temperature, and mood. The personality-changing, free-walkers change based, On the type of reaction they want to get out of you. After all you could be the ***** to hold together the whole scheme Caught in a feverish nightmare, when it seemed to be a sweet dream Solitary work is needed, now, to avoid a potential sting And so I take the time to rhyme this, Evaluating the nature of everything. The mouth can be, but the eyes are not untruthful They precipitate pictures, from the scary to the downright beautiful Look deep within yourself, and see your own array of colors. We may be blind to the importance of some priorities, but I feel we're all lovers. "Hurt people hurt people," In my life it's a fact. But remember you can only be responsible for how you act. No offense or defensive tactics, Throw the whole playbook out. Conducting this vessel requires much practice, Reflect needs of warmth for the seeds to sprout Make sure you don't love someone, just for what they can give to you. Highlight their radiance, for making you feel the way you do The cycle, is only as vicious as one portrays it The choice is ours, and I choose to change it. Right here, right now Breathe in, Feel the oxygen go down Hold it, For a moment Every exhale reminds us, That life's color is golden. So fold up the clothes, And walk out the door. So many illuminated pigmentations to see, ~Everybody's a new world to explore~

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Klusener could whack it, yes Lance, To spinners, down wicket, he'd dance, No defensive tricks, He smote them for six, The same for the quicks without prance. Sometimes he could bowl pretty quick, Sometimes the batsmen he'd trick. Gave balance to the side, Served country with pride, All without ever being a ***** His best score V England, remember? Our bowlers he got to dismember. Zulu hit it so high Way up into the sky, It didn't come down 'til November.

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Mar 1, 2010

Mar 1, 2010 at 10:40 AM UTC

Ode to Lance Klusener

Klusener could whack it, yes Lance, To spinners, down wicket, he'd dance, No defensive tricks, He smote them for six, The same for the quicks without prance. Sometimes he could bowl pretty quick, Sometimes the batsmen he'd trick. Gave balance to the side, Served country with pride, All without ever being a ***** His best score V England, remember? Our bowlers he got to dismember. Zulu hit it so high Way up into the sky, It didn't come down 'til November.

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My defensive carer named Alfreido Dimpitt Reemo You see my nice regular carer, Andrew Williams was sick and didn't want go to work Which put spanner in the works in the office, and they were wondering who will replace him So they decided to ask Alfreido Dimpitt Reemo a call, and were happy when he said yes And they forgot to tell his first client, who can be very confusing in conversation But they forgot to tell that client and Alfreido turned up at his door And this was the day that Andrew was going to take him for a walk through the domain Where the Christmas carols, and Alfreido was happy to take him And they had a cool time, till the client told him about his old carer who was names Reimo And Aldreido snapped at him, and his client thought that he doesn't understand happiness And this made him happier, and he started laughing and trying to joke around with Alfreido And Alfreido did joke with him, and really they started to hit off And then, so his client mentioned his old carer Reimo and how much of a **** he was And Alfreido got defensive, in fact he got so angry he nearly hit his client And this made his client too shy to say anything else On the risk that Alfriedo was going to do it again And he even was afraid to speak his mind, in the risk he'll snap at him And his client were unhappy about how this carer treated him Especially when they were leaving the domain and there were some teenagers teasing him And this made his client think that Alfreido was teasing him with the kids I know he had issues for what he said, but, he though this was very wrongs the way His carer was behaving, and every time he mentioned Reimo, in hoping that he would Joke around with you, he will snap, as if you were trying to rob you or something So at the end when Alfriedo left, he didn 't know what to do So he rang up the carers organization and told them why Alfreido came instead of Andrew And they told him they had no choice, it was either Alfreido or no one And this client said, ok in the future, I will prefer no one, especially if you send him again Because he is too defensive, when I mention the name of my old carer And despite telling him why he snapped, he still felt very unsafe And said, I want you to send no one, or send no one Because I felt I am offending this carer with anything I say And I don't know what I really said, and the organisation said, fine And Alfreido never saw him again, And the next time Andrew came, and he was very relieved And told him that the bad carer has gone, and will never return And Andrew said, yes, mate, I will make sure they don't ever send him again Sent from my iPhone

0

Sep 9, 2015

Sep 9, 2015 at 5:53 AM UTC

johnny-georgy-brown

defensive carers

My defensive carer named Alfreido Dimpitt Reemo You see my nice regular carer, Andrew Williams was sick and didn't want go to work Which put spanner in the works in the office, and they were wondering who will replace him So they decided to ask Alfreido Dimpitt Reemo a call, and were happy when he said yes And they forgot to tell his first client, who can be very confusing in conversation But they forgot to tell that client and Alfreido turned up at his door And this was the day that Andrew was going to take him for a walk through the domain Where the Christmas carols, and Alfreido was happy to take him And they had a cool time, till the client told him about his old carer who was names Reimo And Aldreido snapped at him, and his client thought that he doesn't understand happiness And this made him happier, and he started laughing and trying to joke around with Alfreido And Alfreido did joke with him, and really they started to hit off And then, so his client mentioned his old carer Reimo and how much of a **** he was And Alfreido got defensive, in fact he got so angry he nearly hit his client And this made his client too shy to say anything else On the risk that Alfriedo was going to do it again And he even was afraid to speak his mind, in the risk he'll snap at him And his client were unhappy about how this carer treated him Especially when they were leaving the domain and there were some teenagers teasing him And this made his client think that Alfreido was teasing him with the kids I know he had issues for what he said, but, he though this was very wrongs the way His carer was behaving, and every time he mentioned Reimo, in hoping that he would Joke around with you, he will snap, as if you were trying to rob you or something So at the end when Alfriedo left, he didn 't know what to do So he rang up the carers organization and told them why Alfreido came instead of Andrew And they told him they had no choice, it was either Alfreido or no one And this client said, ok in the future, I will prefer no one, especially if you send him again Because he is too defensive, when I mention the name of my old carer And despite telling him why he snapped, he still felt very unsafe And said, I want you to send no one, or send no one Because I felt I am offending this carer with anything I say And I don't know what I really said, and the organisation said, fine And Alfreido never saw him again, And the next time Andrew came, and he was very relieved And told him that the bad carer has gone, and will never return And Andrew said, yes, mate, I will make sure they don't ever send him again Sent from my iPhone

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It was a question; a simple inquiry that I had been running from, catching me off guard, trapping me in this feeling, that I had been found out, before I had found myself. I remember taking offense, as if it were an accusation, rather than a question. Out of breath, and suspiciously defensive, I was frightened out of my mind. But it had been asked with such disdain, such disgust and disapproval, so I kept running.

0

Oct 4, 2015

Oct 4, 2015 at 3:04 PM UTC

It was a question; a simple inquiry that I had been running from, catching me off guard, trapping me in this feeling, that I had been found out, before I had found myself. I remember taking offense, as if it were an accusation, rather than a question. Out of breath, and suspiciously defensive, I was frightened out of my mind. But it had been asked with such disdain, such disgust and disapproval, so I kept running.

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She caught on to algebraic notation, as if, she'd been born in the 64 square matrix, whose precise logic spoke her mother tongue They discussed, at length, the fianchetto formation ... ... how the defensive fortress of the castled King was akin to the monarch's personal Masada ... how the power of the doubled Rooks and Queen in the latent lance of Alekhine's Engine gored the other position in thermodynamic dissipation When he pointed out the cloaked irony of Queen being strongest, but King paramount, she shrugged, as if it were to be expected Shaking hands, agreeing to the draw, she smiled, joy precipitating from her face, knowing there could be a world without losers

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Jan 6, 2015

Jan 6, 2015 at 5:02 PM UTC

Quenched into Percentile (for Jessica)

She caught on to algebraic notation, as if, she'd been born in the 64 square matrix, whose precise logic spoke her mother tongue They discussed, at length, the fianchetto formation ... ... how the defensive fortress of the castled King was akin to the monarch's personal Masada ... how the power of the doubled Rooks and Queen in the latent lance of Alekhine's Engine gored the other position in thermodynamic dissipation When he pointed out the cloaked irony of Queen being strongest, but King paramount, she shrugged, as if it were to be expected Shaking hands, agreeing to the draw, she smiled, joy precipitating from her face, knowing there could be a world without losers

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