"dubois" poems - Hello Poetry

i am not your ****** nor your sister. i do not know the meaning of these words, mister. except in instances where i hate us like they hate us. a putrid loathing sprouting from different colored grounds but a dangerous flower nonetheless. they are not just words, they are drops of blood spilled from the lashed backs of our enslaved triple grandfathers and mothers. our slang replaces hoses pushing us back during marches and righteous riots. aggression equals regression equals deppression. and now, it's all our fault. now it's black on black assault. now it's fly shoes and ghetto booties. poppin' bottles and poppin' caps, running through nights like street ******* rats. what would W.E.B. DuBois say if he'd seen this backstep taken after we'd come this far, after reaching for stars and dropping the ball? now i love this color. i love this color and prefer no other. all i'm saying is, let us pick one day when we put the negroidian away put ****** back in it's roots. no, not the movie, don't me toby. let us get the dream rollin' Mister King style, not Master P style. no big rims, or leather seats. none of that **** for awhile. i'm saying takeover. i'm saying african-america makeover. i'm saying, let's take our pride back, like our homeland lions. let us make black a taste not so sour. i'm saying, Black Power.

0

Nov 18, 2010

Nov 18, 2010 at 8:03 AM UTC

randi-b

My ******

i am not your ****** nor your sister. i do not know the meaning of these words, mister. except in instances where i hate us like they hate us. a putrid loathing sprouting from different colored grounds but a dangerous flower nonetheless. they are not just words, they are drops of blood spilled from the lashed backs of our enslaved triple grandfathers and mothers. our slang replaces hoses pushing us back during marches and righteous riots. aggression equals regression equals deppression. and now, it's all our fault. now it's black on black assault. now it's fly shoes and ghetto booties. poppin' bottles and poppin' caps, running through nights like street ******* rats. what would W.E.B. DuBois say if he'd seen this backstep taken after we'd come this far, after reaching for stars and dropping the ball? now i love this color. i love this color and prefer no other. all i'm saying is, let us pick one day when we put the negroidian away put ****** back in it's roots. no, not the movie, don't me toby. let us get the dream rollin' Mister King style, not Master P style. no big rims, or leather seats. none of that **** for awhile. i'm saying takeover. i'm saying african-america makeover. i'm saying, let's take our pride back, like our homeland lions. let us make black a taste not so sour. i'm saying, Black Power.

73

Some say, we don't need black history month. When in truth we do. Would the contribution of African American be taught truthfully. If we had to depend on you know who? Obviously, they very unaware of several successful black that contributed to America's greatness. We, very well aware they edited down facts to be turn into fiction. Like that president that chopped down that cherry tree. Many doesn't know the plight of Washington, Dubois, Carver. Let alone know their first name. It's hardly taught, if it's about us. George Franklin, Grant-dentist Ernest Everett, Just.-Scientist Josh Gibson, one of the greatest baseball player. We know very well about George, Thomas and James and John Q. Some say, we all Americans And in truth, they completely right. But for reasons very well known. We are not all equal in sights of others. When needed, they call upon us to join in. Some still, say-why do Black history month exist? But all cultures knows none was eliminated through times. Than those captured to come here and renamed after their masters. And facts be told, this cultures lives to embrace into their children's if nothing is ever mention by certain teachers about their cultures. Than they will keep it before them. Matthew Alexander, Henson-Explorer Billie Holiday-singer Duke Ellington and Count Basie and Cab Calloway. Greatness, we can't let fade. Vernon Jordan Shirley Chilsom And hosts of present days teachers that push the issues to educate. Those that say, we don't need Black History months. Be crying , if we try to eliminate theirs. Cause that's all they ever known. Howard University. Tennessee State and Fisk and various others came to be because of discrimination. And has turned out some brilliant African Americans. So our history is needed. Cause it's about us. Like Latin History and various others is about other cultures.

0

Feb 7, 2016

Feb 7, 2016 at 10:12 AM UTC

jeffrey-conyers

Some Say, We Don't Need Black History

Some say, we don't need black history month. When in truth we do. Would the contribution of African American be taught truthfully. If we had to depend on you know who? Obviously, they very unaware of several successful black that contributed to America's greatness. We, very well aware they edited down facts to be turn into fiction. Like that president that chopped down that cherry tree. Many doesn't know the plight of Washington, Dubois, Carver. Let alone know their first name. It's hardly taught, if it's about us. George Franklin, Grant-dentist Ernest Everett, Just.-Scientist Josh Gibson, one of the greatest baseball player. We know very well about George, Thomas and James and John Q. Some say, we all Americans And in truth, they completely right. But for reasons very well known. We are not all equal in sights of others. When needed, they call upon us to join in. Some still, say-why do Black history month exist? But all cultures knows none was eliminated through times. Than those captured to come here and renamed after their masters. And facts be told, this cultures lives to embrace into their children's if nothing is ever mention by certain teachers about their cultures. Than they will keep it before them. Matthew Alexander, Henson-Explorer Billie Holiday-singer Duke Ellington and Count Basie and Cab Calloway. Greatness, we can't let fade. Vernon Jordan Shirley Chilsom And hosts of present days teachers that push the issues to educate. Those that say, we don't need Black History months. Be crying , if we try to eliminate theirs. Cause that's all they ever known. Howard University. Tennessee State and Fisk and various others came to be because of discrimination. And has turned out some brilliant African Americans. So our history is needed. Cause it's about us. Like Latin History and various others is about other cultures.

40

bases on the character Blanche DuBois from Streetcar Named Desire a play by Tennassee Williams Crushed white satin Hot baths on warm days Polka music makes me sway That young man I wish had stayed Light dances around me Never daring a touch Here in the lantern light All a lady has is her looks Stranger Stranger everywhere Darkness always a little too near Shep oh Shep where are you dear? "I don't know you" please get off For star and the common pig I leave no words of fancy For now I sit with pen an paper In the light of a padded room and the piano was still slow and blue

0

May 9, 2013

May 9, 2013 at 10:23 AM UTC

emily-helen-culver

Blanche DuBois

bases on the character Blanche DuBois from Streetcar Named Desire a play by Tennassee Williams Crushed white satin Hot baths on warm days Polka music makes me sway That young man I wish had stayed Light dances around me Never daring a touch Here in the lantern light All a lady has is her looks Stranger Stranger everywhere Darkness always a little too near Shep oh Shep where are you dear? "I don't know you" please get off For star and the common pig I leave no words of fancy For now I sit with pen an paper In the light of a padded room and the piano was still slow and blue

18

Magic and lies I don't want people to see it either I read a play about a woman who was slowly being drawn into insanity Called A Streetcar Named Desire her name was Blanche Dubois pronounced 'Dubwa' and I could relate to the way she swayed between reality and fantasy how she felt when she said she wished to give magic to people and that was the only reason she lied so to cover up the darkness the unaccepted insides the parts she knew nobody would like the way she craved to fill in a space which she deep down knew would never go away I was in her shoes I heard the polka music too and the BANG I felt the pain in my own way through this women who was made up for entertainment who doesn't even exist and I'd never tell a soul but you will you keep my secret?

0

Jan 13, 2014

Jan 13, 2014 at 9:43 AM UTC

silentxdreamer

I Felt Through Her

Magic and lies I don't want people to see it either I read a play about a woman who was slowly being drawn into insanity Called A Streetcar Named Desire her name was Blanche Dubois pronounced 'Dubwa' and I could relate to the way she swayed between reality and fantasy how she felt when she said she wished to give magic to people and that was the only reason she lied so to cover up the darkness the unaccepted insides the parts she knew nobody would like the way she craved to fill in a space which she deep down knew would never go away I was in her shoes I heard the polka music too and the BANG I felt the pain in my own way through this women who was made up for entertainment who doesn't even exist and I'd never tell a soul but you will you keep my secret?

39

We live in the unlighted state of America Where what happens when we turn the lights off Is dealt with darkness And matters of delicate touch Are treated with sharpness When our only language Is to inflict anguish We cut connections in the bedroom To clear our cynical head room For contempt and judgement People looking for a feeling to fall into Or a reason to live Must face frigid climates When the public invades privacy And ill fated ****** exploits Pervade salacious tabloids Our ****** regrets Cut the deepest Society reaps them Sowing us together with resentment We provide each other with relief But not the relief we're looking for We give each other hours of relief Until those useless hours become days And those fruitless days become years That engender endless tears As it remains warm in our car But the winter outside freezes anything that breaks the plane And our air conditioning only helps so much When the spinning wheels are in our faces There is a national coverage in the media That presents a bleak picture of the ****** health of America I feel I sit somewhere in between *** offenders and a disgusted public When I observe the observers Who are too scared shitless to ever face their own emotions Judge those for overindulging in their emotions They lived their life in fear and safety So they could be the righteous ones To admonish the risk takers and mistake makers Yet they are of the least value to humanity They're the people who grade all your answers as incorrect Without providing their perfect alternatives While trying to erase the context Because of what the context has to say about society People feeling that they can never be emotionally vulnerable Until they experience sheer desperation And no dollar contract Can replace human contact Yet we give men so much money and power And ask them to feel fine in our cold shower Until we are soiled by their intention A nation committed to selling Stella Artois A nation full of Blanche DuBois Humanity folds in on itself When we attack with *** Humanity does itself a disservice By not trying to understand these attacks honestly We forsake forgiveness And embrace desperation Until we become unbearably desperate For attention For approval For ****** contact For money For validation And sometimes our desperate desires become tangled I'd like to think of that as love And not a meeting between two practical rapists That conjoin in the middle Yet somehow come out distorted on the other side

0

Nov 26, 2017

Nov 26, 2017 at 4:55 AM UTC

andrew-rueter

Blanche DuBois

We live in the unlighted state of America Where what happens when we turn the lights off Is dealt with darkness And matters of delicate touch Are treated with sharpness When our only language Is to inflict anguish We cut connections in the bedroom To clear our cynical head room For contempt and judgement People looking for a feeling to fall into Or a reason to live Must face frigid climates When the public invades privacy And ill fated ****** exploits Pervade salacious tabloids Our ****** regrets Cut the deepest Society reaps them Sowing us together with resentment We provide each other with relief But not the relief we're looking for We give each other hours of relief Until those useless hours become days And those fruitless days become years That engender endless tears As it remains warm in our car But the winter outside freezes anything that breaks the plane And our air conditioning only helps so much When the spinning wheels are in our faces There is a national coverage in the media That presents a bleak picture of the ****** health of America I feel I sit somewhere in between *** offenders and a disgusted public When I observe the observers Who are too scared shitless to ever face their own emotions Judge those for overindulging in their emotions They lived their life in fear and safety So they could be the righteous ones To admonish the risk takers and mistake makers Yet they are of the least value to humanity They're the people who grade all your answers as incorrect Without providing their perfect alternatives While trying to erase the context Because of what the context has to say about society People feeling that they can never be emotionally vulnerable Until they experience sheer desperation And no dollar contract Can replace human contact Yet we give men so much money and power And ask them to feel fine in our cold shower Until we are soiled by their intention A nation committed to selling Stella Artois A nation full of Blanche DuBois Humanity folds in on itself When we attack with *** Humanity does itself a disservice By not trying to understand these attacks honestly We forsake forgiveness And embrace desperation Until we become unbearably desperate For attention For approval For ****** contact For money For validation And sometimes our desperate desires become tangled I'd like to think of that as love And not a meeting between two practical rapists That conjoin in the middle Yet somehow come out distorted on the other side

71

In Memory of W.E.B. DuBois here are some poems. Here Lays a caring man Who had many adoring Fans He believed in the A.A. But not in the K.K.K. He fought and encouraged Civil Rights And Never Put up a fist Fight So with a grieving heart we sow His body down to this spot to grow Never forgotten then nor now For there is no way to, how? Diamante: DuBois Freedom, Civil Rights Working, Learning, fighting Leader, brotherhood; slavery, stupidity Hiding, beating, worshiping Beat, bleed Pet End of Diamante- Pet in referral to a new kind of slave

0

Feb 4, 2015

Feb 4, 2015 at 1:46 PM UTC

FallingSnow

(For a Social Studies Project) W.E.B. DuBois

In Memory of W.E.B. DuBois here are some poems. Here Lays a caring man Who had many adoring Fans He believed in the A.A. But not in the K.K.K. He fought and encouraged Civil Rights And Never Put up a fist Fight So with a grieving heart we sow His body down to this spot to grow Never forgotten then nor now For there is no way to, how? Diamante: DuBois Freedom, Civil Rights Working, Learning, fighting Leader, brotherhood; slavery, stupidity Hiding, beating, worshiping Beat, bleed Pet End of Diamante- Pet in referral to a new kind of slave

20

By: Cedric McClester You’re no Thomas Edison Kanye take your medicine That will make you reticent And hopefully you’ll jettison Sayin’ slavery was a choice You’re no modern day Dubois Why’d you give that notion voice? You’re just making lots of noise Black folks got their feelings hurt Because you made ‘em feel like dirt Too bad you were not inert Instead of being so **** curt Stop saying the first thing in your head Give some thought to it instead Then review the things you said Before you have us seeing red Why do you pontificate? Better if you chose to wait Then to come out and state Things we’re sure to debate You’re not adept at history And that’s no great big mystery So why do you do this, you see When the results are blistery If your thoughts are in a rush What comes out your mouth is mush You’d do better just to hush Than to make black people blush Though I accept your apology But you offended more than me Which may be hard for you to see Yet contrition is the key Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2018. All rights reserved.

0

Aug 30, 2018

Aug 30, 2018 at 11:49 AM UTC

cedric-mcclester

YOU’RE NO THOMAS EDISON

By: Cedric McClester You’re no Thomas Edison Kanye take your medicine That will make you reticent And hopefully you’ll jettison Sayin’ slavery was a choice You’re no modern day Dubois Why’d you give that notion voice? You’re just making lots of noise Black folks got their feelings hurt Because you made ‘em feel like dirt Too bad you were not inert Instead of being so **** curt Stop saying the first thing in your head Give some thought to it instead Then review the things you said Before you have us seeing red Why do you pontificate? Better if you chose to wait Then to come out and state Things we’re sure to debate You’re not adept at history And that’s no great big mystery So why do you do this, you see When the results are blistery If your thoughts are in a rush What comes out your mouth is mush You’d do better just to hush Than to make black people blush Though I accept your apology But you offended more than me Which may be hard for you to see Yet contrition is the key Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2018. All rights reserved.

34

I knew a girl who was as highly strung as Blanche Dubois She had a sweet soul, one of the last real ones perhaps: vibrant and compassionate, any time of day. I offered her the cure to her constant plight and once she let it in, it eased her zapping mind. But the brain still relentlessly swishes and swallows every good thought in her domain, until it’s coated in an atrocious slime. ‘Anxiety, go for a holiday’ I heard her chanting one afternoon from mid-battle ground... You got wheels Come pick up the cure Feel the peace beneath your feet It’s always been there honey, You just gotta let it paint your landscape: bright.

0

May 30, 2017

May 30, 2017 at 7:56 AM UTC

emma-duncanson

Hope Your Head Is Alright

I knew a girl who was as highly strung as Blanche Dubois She had a sweet soul, one of the last real ones perhaps: vibrant and compassionate, any time of day. I offered her the cure to her constant plight and once she let it in, it eased her zapping mind. But the brain still relentlessly swishes and swallows every good thought in her domain, until it’s coated in an atrocious slime. ‘Anxiety, go for a holiday’ I heard her chanting one afternoon from mid-battle ground... You got wheels Come pick up the cure Feel the peace beneath your feet It’s always been there honey, You just gotta let it paint your landscape: bright.

26

An animal avalanche Arrives at the dance In a defensive stance To prevent the chance Their resentful trance Won’t pass first glance The animals rush Kicking up dust Responding to lust Or a threatening gust Mass hysteria must Make them adjust Misery wombat Blistering combat Administering on that Ministry contact And industry contracts In their dusty con track They use a flawed Blanche DuBois Survival law Scratch and claw Acting raw Imposing paws The stampede Slammed me Blandly By ramming My standing Expanding My understanding Of the farmers branding I paddle fake Rattlesnakes That tattle stakes The battle takes To bother me With bomber dreams Of somber screams I’m always annoyed For in this void I must avoid Love devoid Terror droids On steroids I’m backing out By lashing out By blacking out Tapping out To the drought On my route My mastery Of catastrophe Blasted me Classically Back to be Where I bleed I need a solution That’s a substitution To their pollution Like a revolution Of evolution Sending fusion Mysticism And cynicism Blocking vision Without permission Are just superstition Looping pistons So I won’t listen Caught in the feud rain That is the food chain Bringing my brood pain From the lewd game That glues shame To my doomed brain The stampede Trampled me Sampling The example of greed For their ample needs That scrambles seeds Planting problem trees To obstruct the breeze To calmer breeds

0

Oct 22, 2018

Oct 22, 2018 at 1:46 AM UTC

andrew-rueter

Stampede

An animal avalanche Arrives at the dance In a defensive stance To prevent the chance Their resentful trance Won’t pass first glance The animals rush Kicking up dust Responding to lust Or a threatening gust Mass hysteria must Make them adjust Misery wombat Blistering combat Administering on that Ministry contact And industry contracts In their dusty con track They use a flawed Blanche DuBois Survival law Scratch and claw Acting raw Imposing paws The stampede Slammed me Blandly By ramming My standing Expanding My understanding Of the farmers branding I paddle fake Rattlesnakes That tattle stakes The battle takes To bother me With bomber dreams Of somber screams I’m always annoyed For in this void I must avoid Love devoid Terror droids On steroids I’m backing out By lashing out By blacking out Tapping out To the drought On my route My mastery Of catastrophe Blasted me Classically Back to be Where I bleed I need a solution That’s a substitution To their pollution Like a revolution Of evolution Sending fusion Mysticism And cynicism Blocking vision Without permission Are just superstition Looping pistons So I won’t listen Caught in the feud rain That is the food chain Bringing my brood pain From the lewd game That glues shame To my doomed brain The stampede Trampled me Sampling The example of greed For their ample needs That scrambles seeds Planting problem trees To obstruct the breeze To calmer breeds

85

I feel it the adreniline within. the anger I've hidden and the sorrow of what I'm going to do if I let it out. I know my body wants to let go but its obviouse that it won't be able to handle the feeling. The lust of the pain to come. The blood running down my back as I let my rage overtake my scenses. The colors from my imagination as I bend back to bask in my passion. I finally look down and all i see is darkness. I stumble at the sheer number of shadows passing under me they slowlly consume my feet and as they do so I try to scream, but I'm drowned out as the dark tendrils fall into my mouth the slither through my body and consume me, and all I know as I open my eyes is that this was the nightmare of the dreams I never have. - prather dubois - me, myself,and I.

0

May 7, 2013

May 7, 2013 at 3:35 PM UTC

prather-gail-dubois

the beast within

I feel it the adreniline within. the anger I've hidden and the sorrow of what I'm going to do if I let it out. I know my body wants to let go but its obviouse that it won't be able to handle the feeling. The lust of the pain to come. The blood running down my back as I let my rage overtake my scenses. The colors from my imagination as I bend back to bask in my passion. I finally look down and all i see is darkness. I stumble at the sheer number of shadows passing under me they slowlly consume my feet and as they do so I try to scream, but I'm drowned out as the dark tendrils fall into my mouth the slither through my body and consume me, and all I know as I open my eyes is that this was the nightmare of the dreams I never have. - prather dubois - me, myself,and I.

3

I’m turning from Blanche DuBois into Chris Benoit taking a streetcar named Desire to Monday Night Raw after the oppression of the law got stuck in my craw because the discretion of the flawed became the voice of God. I’d always relied on the kindness of strangers only to find the Million Dollar Man’s danger directing the Army Rangers to Jesus’ manger letting the Undertaker deal with the remainder. I relinquished my rightful place to the bank’s Crippler Crossface taking everything until I lost grace going into a holocaust craze. I’m upset about the places I can’t go because I’ll be ***** by Marlon Brando when I ask the referee for a hand though he just responds with a ****** no. I have retired my display of Vivian Leigh now Whatever by Our Lady Peace plays as the Rabid Wolverine walks to the stage to fight the Big Boss Man in a cage. I gave up teaching class to my sister to fight an *** who’s a mister whose slaps can blister so he blasts this spinster. The law is a tougher opponent than Eddie Guerrero so I apply my aptitude into becoming a pistolero after getting jabbed by my French Quarter pharaohs I can feel resistance down in my Marc Mero. I start to take steroids because there are boys whose terror noise impairs my poise. I go all out performing flying headbutts fighting until I see the dead’s guts exterminating enemies like bed bugs but then I start to dread hugs. Now I assume a stranger’s spite so I can immediately fight I’m swallowed by night wearing these tights. In my rage I **** my wife and son now my anger is no longer fun even if it came from their gun it’s me who’s the loneliest one. I changed from a lady to a wrestler losing my ****** mind fighting Mankind while stepping on landmines until I can’t find any grand signs and I’m anger defined.

0

Jun 2, 2020

Jun 2, 2020 at 5:20 AM UTC

andrew-rueter

From Blanche DuBois into Chris Benoit

I’m turning from Blanche DuBois into Chris Benoit taking a streetcar named Desire to Monday Night Raw after the oppression of the law got stuck in my craw because the discretion of the flawed became the voice of God. I’d always relied on the kindness of strangers only to find the Million Dollar Man’s danger directing the Army Rangers to Jesus’ manger letting the Undertaker deal with the remainder. I relinquished my rightful place to the bank’s Crippler Crossface taking everything until I lost grace going into a holocaust craze. I’m upset about the places I can’t go because I’ll be ***** by Marlon Brando when I ask the referee for a hand though he just responds with a ****** no. I have retired my display of Vivian Leigh now Whatever by Our Lady Peace plays as the Rabid Wolverine walks to the stage to fight the Big Boss Man in a cage. I gave up teaching class to my sister to fight an *** who’s a mister whose slaps can blister so he blasts this spinster. The law is a tougher opponent than Eddie Guerrero so I apply my aptitude into becoming a pistolero after getting jabbed by my French Quarter pharaohs I can feel resistance down in my Marc Mero. I start to take steroids because there are boys whose terror noise impairs my poise. I go all out performing flying headbutts fighting until I see the dead’s guts exterminating enemies like bed bugs but then I start to dread hugs. Now I assume a stranger’s spite so I can immediately fight I’m swallowed by night wearing these tights. In my rage I **** my wife and son now my anger is no longer fun even if it came from their gun it’s me who’s the loneliest one. I changed from a lady to a wrestler losing my ****** mind fighting Mankind while stepping on landmines until I can’t find any grand signs and I’m anger defined.

48

By: Cedric McClester Do we have problems? That’s for sure! But, I still love The city of Baltimore! From the Inner Harbor To Cockeysville. Did I neglect to Mention Federal Hill? We’re known as “A city of neighborhoods” Where WEB DuBois Was first understood And Edgar Allen Poe Showed that he could Write a scary novel That was very good We’re the same city Trump chose to malign But perhaps that’s because We’re one of a kind Or maybe that’s because He lost his mind It’s either one, or the other You’ll surely find We are the city Faults and all Where the Baltimore Orioles Still play baseball And thousands of immigrants Heeded the call When they came to America Summer, winter or fall Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2019. All rights reserve.

0

Aug 3, 2019

Aug 3, 2019 at 1:58 PM UTC

cedric-mcclester

I STILL LOVE THE CITY OF BALTIMORE!

By: Cedric McClester Do we have problems? That’s for sure! But, I still love The city of Baltimore! From the Inner Harbor To Cockeysville. Did I neglect to Mention Federal Hill? We’re known as “A city of neighborhoods” Where WEB DuBois Was first understood And Edgar Allen Poe Showed that he could Write a scary novel That was very good We’re the same city Trump chose to malign But perhaps that’s because We’re one of a kind Or maybe that’s because He lost his mind It’s either one, or the other You’ll surely find We are the city Faults and all Where the Baltimore Orioles Still play baseball And thousands of immigrants Heeded the call When they came to America Summer, winter or fall Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2019. All rights reserve.

34

There are so many people And they’re all so different So I can’t treat them equal Which makes me distant I try to be aerial But all the variables Create a scary hole Of impairing cold So I simplify the equation To just understanding you But you find your elation With the rest of the zoo The parabola in my pants When we prance Is not up to chance It’s like a leaf on its branch I’m the DuBois that’s Blanche Left in a trance Through interrogation I find variation That spares relation Causing alienation Changes in your mood Range from rude to lewd Which isn’t something new Just something I outgrew Like America and Spiro Agnew Or Fox News and what’s true I no longer want to be with you But I don’t want to be part of society They’re always judging my propriety By saying my kind acts sloppily So by transitive property They’re actually mocking me Hauntingly They’re all angels and demons They all have different reasons Depending on the seasons Determining their legion Or excuse for treason They say variety is the spice of life But to me it’s more like lice at night Making me itch from light little bites Until I’ve lost my sight And can’t fight this fight On varying heights

0

Mar 28, 2019

Mar 28, 2019 at 9:51 PM UTC

andrew-rueter

Variables

There are so many people And they’re all so different So I can’t treat them equal Which makes me distant I try to be aerial But all the variables Create a scary hole Of impairing cold So I simplify the equation To just understanding you But you find your elation With the rest of the zoo The parabola in my pants When we prance Is not up to chance It’s like a leaf on its branch I’m the DuBois that’s Blanche Left in a trance Through interrogation I find variation That spares relation Causing alienation Changes in your mood Range from rude to lewd Which isn’t something new Just something I outgrew Like America and Spiro Agnew Or Fox News and what’s true I no longer want to be with you But I don’t want to be part of society They’re always judging my propriety By saying my kind acts sloppily So by transitive property They’re actually mocking me Hauntingly They’re all angels and demons They all have different reasons Depending on the seasons Determining their legion Or excuse for treason They say variety is the spice of life But to me it’s more like lice at night Making me itch from light little bites Until I’ve lost my sight And can’t fight this fight On varying heights

46

Clouds cover my home and keep it modest while faded red brick buildings loom over arthritic streets. People who don't know they're dead yet buy poison in crayola-bright shops as the dead cheerfully seek ****** and methamphetamine. Baleful distractions run through my town like bullets through bones, bludgeoning, piercing and slashing our slice of Americana to pieces. The clouds may cover us, but 'modesty' is a lie.

0

Jan 4, 2020

Jan 4, 2020 at 8:58 PM UTC

IsaacSpencer

DuBois, Pennsylvania

Clouds cover my home and keep it modest while faded red brick buildings loom over arthritic streets. People who don't know they're dead yet buy poison in crayola-bright shops as the dead cheerfully seek ****** and methamphetamine. Baleful distractions run through my town like bullets through bones, bludgeoning, piercing and slashing our slice of Americana to pieces. The clouds may cover us, but 'modesty' is a lie.

1