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They are building a house
half a block down
and I sit up here
with the shades down
listening to the sounds,
the hammers pounding in nails,
thack thack thack thack,
and then I hear birds,
and thack thack thack,
and I go to bed,
I pull the covers to my throat;
they have been building this house
for a month, and soon it will have
its people...sleeping, eating,
loving, moving around,
but somehow
now
it is not right,
there seems a madness,
men walk on top with nails
in their mouths
and I read about Castro and Cuba,
and at night I walk by
and the ribs of the house show
and inside I can see cats walking
the way cats walk,
and then a boy rides by on a bicycle
and still the house is not done
and in the morning the men
will be back
walking around on the house
with their hammers,
and it seems people should not build houses
anymore,
it seems people should not get married
anymore,
it seems people should stop working
and sit in small rooms
on 2nd floors
under electric lights without shades;
it seems there is a lot to forget
and a lot not to do,
and in drugstores, markets, bars,
the people are tired, they do not want
to move, and I stand there at night
and look through this house and the
house does not want to be built;
through its sides I can see the purple hills
and the first lights of evening,
and it is cold
and I button my coat
and I stand there looking through the house
and the cats stop and look at me
until I am embarrased
and move North up the sidewalk
where I will buy
cigarettes and beer
and return to my room.
from "All's Normal Here" - 1985
Matt Jul 2015
I was embarrased
So I deleted this poem

I hope I meet a woman one day

It was just a fantasy I guess

I don't think
I'll ever have a gf
Yes, I use violent imagery
Correction: I love using violent imagery
Does that annoy you?
Somehow set you off?

Is it because you wish
That I was a bit more 'normal'
A bit less pronounced, obvious
About who I am?

Are you annoyed because
You wish I'd feel embarrased
Of this part of myself?

Does it **** you off
To see me proudly display
My inner self-
all of it-
Without any of your foolish
Censoring?

Is it perhaps because
I am attempting to accept myself
Whatever I might be, its entirety?

Does it anger you
Because you
You bowed your head
And conformed when
Someone else came
And censored you?

But I
I refuse to do the same
For this is me
And I am not going to
Pick apart and,
Cut out
The bits of me you don't like
The shards
That form the complete picture

I refuse to allow
You to touch them
For this is ME
ME
Not you
Not your domain

**NOT under your control
This basically explains why I've been away
Erali Pisce Mar 2015
He turns on my favorite movie.
I always watch it alone.
He doesn't like to see me cry.
I am not allowed to cry.
We're comfortable just staying home.
He is embarrased of me.
I love him.
*He knows
Danielle Shorr Apr 2014
Dear lover
By the time we fall in love i would hope that you will have already learned my name, but just in case you havent i will tell you. My name is danielle lauren shorr. danielle like some ancestor i never met, lauren because my mom liked it, and shorr like the beach. I like the beach. No more like love the beach. Maybe almost as much as i will love you. I like the sand between my toes, the way the wind blows through my hair and makes it an ugly mess, i like the way pigeons search for any trace of food like its all one man for himself and this is the hunger games. I like food. But at first i might be embarrased to eat in front of you, i can attribute this to my history of insecurity and that ******* belief that girls are supposed to order salads on dates. But fear not. Because i hate spinach and fries with extra cheese are my favorite, and soon enough i will learn to embrace it. I will always want to embrace you. To hold you, to be close to you, i have an overwhelming need for touch. But a slight fear of intimacy. I will be afraid at first when you try to get close to me, i will put up my guard and attempt to hide my battle scars and everything i dont want you to know about me yet, ive been hurt before. And i know im not the only one on this earth who has been. But when i tell you that i want to get to know you i am telling you that i want to memorize every part of you like the way i used to stay up at night as a kid memorizing lines of books. I love to read. I love getting lost in the words that someone else wrote that so closely manage to speak to me. I want you to speak to me. When you are struggling or lacking in anyway i will assure you with 100% certainty that things will be okay. I will pull you out of pits of depression with every muscle, bone and limb i have in my body, i have not always been comfortable in my own body. And thats been a cause of my own depression. So when the day comes when i give myself to you, i am hoping that you will remember that every part of me is devoting itself to learning you, i want to learn you. I want to trace the lines of your skin, connect the dots with your freckles or birthmarks, play silly little games and hope you let me win, i will let you in. But only if you let me. And theres parts of me that arent my brightest, i will have days where i will be unable to see anything but darkness, i want you to hold me regardless of what i say, or my stubborness, i am stubborn. I am a taurus. When we fight i will be a bull, strong in my pride and unable to see any other side of the argument, i will tell you this right now: give up. unless its important. I want to feel important. I will want to be included in every part of your existence and when I’m not i will get annoyed and ******* and demand to be the center of your universe. I will act like this because i want to feel like i matter. Like i am matter on this earth so important that if i disappeared even for a mere second the earth would crumble and fall into pieces. And if i crumble and fall to pieces, i only ask one thing of you. Do your best to help me back up, im not asking you to put me back together but to try your best to keep me from breaking even more. And when you break, know that i will be here to comfortyou. To hold you. To tell you that i love you. to make you laugh at the most innapropriate moments about the most innapropriate things, to make life seem a little less painful, and a little more bearable. I will do my best to help you stay your best. And if we end up not working, it will be okay. Because nothing will matter more than the love i gave to you when it was good and if in the end it doesnt go the way we thought it would, well, we'll be okay. But if it does. If this love stays, know that i will love you and give you every single day i have, i will make you remember why you decided to fall in love in the first place, i will make sure to make you feel okay, i will always make sure you're okay. if you're having a bad day, I'll be right there with you. I'll be here now and forever.
Sincerely your future lover.
Salmabanu Hatim Oct 2017
I raged with fury,
I trembled with shame wishing to be buried,
I had turned crimson,
Tears brimmed from my eyes,
Flooded down my cheeks.
My husband hid behind the guests,
The guests stared aghast,
My mother-in-law slumped on the sofa fast,
My sixteen year old daughter giggled,
My son guffawed,Dr.Do Little,
Me,a centre stage!
Because our newly employed
houseboy from the village,
Copied ditto my husband,
Out of nowhere he appeared like a magic wand,
Courtesied with a gallant swoon,
Saying,"Darling, my **** moon!
Will you have something
To make you more refreshing."
The servant had come from my husband's village and he did not know the ways of the city.My husband was his hero.
Matt Jul 2015
I just wanted
A woman to like me
And maybe to have
A girlfriend one day

I'll make her breakfast in bed
And we can go on a hike together

And I'm embarrassed

That I wrote about
Bisexual fantasies

Sometimes I think
It would have been more
Fun to have been
A woman

Then maybe I would
Have had female friends
am i ee Sep 2015
why'm ah ma embarrassed by
you rgalumphin'?

wud i care what
yo luggage do?


that didn't work,

why am i embarrased by
your....insert word here with
proper tense and conjucation

why do i care about what other people think???

still not workin,

jes put
stinkin "galumph" in the sentence...
and see how it works?

~~en fin fer sure with this stinkin mess of poem
~~~~~ n ya'll better really like this... at least lie a little to make my tender heart feel the light..

sorry lil word you aren't stinky , well not quite yet.




\guh-LUHMF\
verb
1. to move along heavily and clumsily.
Quotes
It is at this point that one begins to feel embarrassed while other passengers galumph by with their luggage.
-- Stephanie Rosenbloom, “Flying Deluxe Domestic Coast-to-Coast for Around $1,000,” New York Times, January 23, 2015
Origin
Galumph is a 19th century invention from the mind of Lewis Carroll, and is perhaps a blend of gallop and triumphant
wise question posed to me at the young age of 14....and why did i?  oh i don't know... karma...samskaras?
Nat Lipstadt Jul 2014
The breeze is forceful, but not stiff,
it is the tropical storm's long lasting,
Arthur's lingering kiss goodbye,
(like the ones taken and given at airports and train stations,
volatile, wild passionate)
the breeze is anything but stiff,
it flexes, gusts, whipping sleeves,
coffee coolant excellent

the waves are rollicking,
revealing their white underwear,
but wise sailors say no thanks,
the bay pure, no vessels surface contaminant this morning

the sun apologizes for its yesterday absence,
claiming the aquifer cried out very thirsty,
so it took July Fourth off,
but now the water table rising,
the sand colored soil dark, rich, wet,
the grass cleaner, greener,
but the lawn, branch littered,
the wounded of the weather wars

the sun, a bit embarrased by his absence,
waits patiently for that odd fellow
by that dock, in that chair solitary,
to do his best poetic explanation well enough,
so that all summer rainy days will be
past and future forgiven

and the odd fellow taps and tends
to the living crowd surrounding him once again,
recalling he once wrote of leaves frothy waving
like cappuccino foam, and was that not
years ago and how could that be?

though the atmosphere is modest agitated,
the poets heart now, leavened and levitated,
for rain must have its due day,
purposeful, somber, serious, endless repeating,
(some say cleansing, but not he)

laughing at himself,
outdoors he writes
differently,
lighter than air, crafting careful
a single sonnet of suntan lotion odors,
and natural songs of bass drums in ear thrum,
and one thought alone,
criss crosses repeatedly,
yes, that one,
"wish you were here"

and he goes inside to get fresh coffee,
greet the woman sweaty fresh from yoga.
she delayed, the ferry captains paying obeisance
to the self same breeze,

but the seagull observer,
stands in place of the odd fellow's guard and watch,
during his temporary absence,
bulkhead posted, cawing in his stead and on his stand,
in seagullese,
which the poet speaks oh so well,
mantra chanting the poets
and the breeze's refrain too,
*wish you were here
Michael Parish Oct 2013
The rags to riches,
You know what's burried in the face,
The waiters ambitious nature,
A cooks heratige,
My friends are millionaires.
One day ill listen and
Learn about the secret
lives.  
The rags to riches,
One day the cook will
want me to know,
and so will the waiter,
I always wanted a......
Do you think I can......
I know.......
One day my friends will open up
like a embarrased oyster.  

What ever feels akward for week.
Goes away like a bad haircut.
I hope the bad hair cut never grows out.
Every face is bare and naked,
Tender eneouph to give kisses
the kisses that are couageous.
Ill never forget the times outside
my friends and I spent smuthering
eachother in lipstick.  Thats what friends do
Friends kiss eachother when the days are helpless.
Tell me more about being a rapper.
Tell me more about your resturant.
Tell me more about being a laywer.
Ill kiss you and say the dreams never leave.
Ill kiss them all and say the dreams never leave.
JT999 Nov 2015
Welcome to the major leagues
You've paid your dues and made the team
Followed your heart now live the dream
Welcome to the major leagues

"Batter!" up you're in the box
Swing and miss your average drops
Always tomorrow it never stops
Welcome to the major leagues

A few bad games reputation fades
Rumors start, so do the trades
Now a question when once an ace
Welcome to the major leagues

Bounce around from town to town
Look for an edge on the low down
Needles pills always around
Welcome to the major leagues

Back on track to be a winner
Pressure mounts contracts get bigger
**** test finds you, hey go figure
Welcome to the major leagues

Adidas, Nike, gatorade,
Endorsments start to drift away
Suspension doiled out 40 games
Welcome to the major leagues

Conference called speak from the heart
Media tears you apart
Promise you'll make another start
Welcome to the major leagues

Asterix on your legacy
Move back home, hang up your cleats
Embarrased,  beat and in defeat
Welcome to the major leagues
Matt KH Jul 2010
I want to be the flush of cheeks when someone is embarrased
I want to be the unspoken words of the one who just can't say how he feels
I want to be the menagerie of butterflies that swarm in the stomach of the unconfident
I want to be the thought that says **** it in the mind of the one finally takes the next step
I want to be the pen that writes word that no on will ever see
I want to be the uplifting rush of a new romance
I want to be the tender kiss of lovers
I want to be the embrace that says everything is going to be ok
I want to be the goosebumps on the back of the neck of the gently caressed
I want to be the feeling of when you reach out for a body at night and find it there to hold
I want to be the keys on a piano that make the sound of love
I want to be the slient scream of the broken hearted
I want to be the tear that falls the unending distance from face to floor
I want to be the heart beat of the slowly dying
I want to be-
Greyson Fay Dec 2014
A fish in a river he is.
A bear in the wild they run.
Wouns he inflicts on himself
Drawing blood
The scent draws them
Their pupils dialate
see the dark demons residing in the enchanting mask of the iris.
Wild, with rabid laughter they tease.
Seeing how far they can push a life.
Embarrased and humiliated he goes home
Carving knives in hand.
Joseph C Jun 2010
These walls are paper thin
And I'm the kid trying to draw on them
But I keep tearing them down
So embarrased that I decided to skip town
******* my crayons in a grocery bag
On a stick thrown over my back
I left when my mother was at work
I figured when she came home she went berzerk
But I was long gone and three blocks older
Never even looked over my shoulder
Humming anthems for my tortured ambition
Five years old and no restrictions
Until the winter came and I was exposed
Naked metaphorically from head to toe
Written off by God and left for dead
I started questioning the type of life I led
So I returned to my home with my tail tucked in
But it was abandoned long ago when the snow rolled in
I sat and looked around and saw the walls were still intact
Pulled my crayons out of the bag, most were old and cracked
I started purposely pushing as hard as I could
Turning scribbles into holes in everything I understood
Soon enough that place was shredded, tatters carried away by the breeze
And I looked upon my masterpiece
Anthony Carrasco Feb 2016
I need to find new ways to express
the same way I've felt year after year.
Unique combinations of perfect poetry
that somehow convey exactly what I go through on a day to day basis.

This is me once again trying to shoot that target,
even if I never get the chance to yell bullseye.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

I miss the sparks we had in every moment together, the ones that ignited our love to burn ferociously blue, not a gentle red.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

That was great but I think I missed, I'll give it another try.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

There is no remedy to prescribe for this disease of a life you left me lost in. All I can hope for now is that these words navigate their way onto your screen.

I design maps in every poem I jot down, with the illusion that someday you WILL find the path back to us.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

No... that one was accurate, but I'll try to be more precise.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

I falsify myself anytime someone looks at me by wearing a mask that I'm not sure I can ever take off.

I don't have the courage to do that, because there's not a right way to explain how such permenant blemishes didn't start off as birthmarks.  They don't even look like scars, but rather lesions where you chose to purposely poison every inch of my being.   

My only method of eradicating you from my body was to turn my emotional pen and ink into something that I'm not embarrased to show the world.

My tattoos are etched so that I can finally decide what I look like on the outside, the person I saw myself becoming before I met you. Although, even these painful shades I continue forcing myself to endure won't hide the knowledge I am left blinded by.
 
We both know the real ones were engraved a long time ago in spaces so buried, so bottomless that not even the busiest gravedigger could stumble upon them.

- - - - - - - - - -

That felt like a closer hit.

Next time I decide to load my handgun I'll make sure to take a deep breath and focus, maybe then can I actually shoot the center of these criminal emotions that ****** me time and time again.
Elizabeth Been Aug 2016
When i was younger i wanted to be like any other guy only i didnt have the some thing between my thighs.
When i was told girls didnt like bugs and shouldnt play in the dirt that was the day i put on my very first skirt.
When i was toldgirls must always look hot, i looked down and realised i was not so i ran home and tried all my mothers make up.
When i was told i looked like a clown with my face caked on i ran home and cried myself to nothing because i was to embarrased to show my bare self.
When i was told to give up id never be good enough i left and never looked back.
Im too good to be put down by someone who never should have mattered, that is why everyday i feel flattered when i walk out my front door knowing im better than i ever was before.

Your the way you are and thats the most beautiful thing you can ask for!

-Been
feel good in your skin cause its all you got to keep you together
Names of affection and endearment tenderize couples with their prophecy of a life so sweet  oozes crystals of sucrose. I hope you've all brought the quintessential insulin for this ****** malady.
Baby girl, sweetheart. Who can say that to you, honeydew? He lies next to you and into your ears at night, whispers spoken in the silence of thoughts in the gradient dark.
I was given a name. It's on a certificate. I can show you. "Babe, it's okay."
"Why didn't you answer me?"
"... Huh? What? Sorry, Mom, I haven't really heard that name lately."
I had to write every day. 12 years. More. Circumventing the pale blue dashes of thin elementary parchment.
My goal at the end of first grade was to "not have loops in my d's."
And how can that be, Dear?
Avoidance is the opposite of absence, in which the avoidness is attentive and absence not able to produce a **** to give, the tattered red rag persisting to grow fonder.
An 'S is the downfall of all. mine. Yours.
"I'm so glad your mine <3"
Why am I indentured to you, only when I walk through the kitchen, can't standing to be barefoot because then only one last peg of the possessed woman chain is needed.
Not that there aren't more levels. Danti mentors. Heat lightning, electrocution- are you feeling the chemistry?
I was given skin.
Porcelain. A marble counter top. Albino creatures suffer for their melanlin-less beauty.
Is pain.
Why are purple flowers blossoming on my body that was once a temple in a garden?
My body is Detroit. Spray paint in the form of a Kaleidescapic, mountainous macabre- knuckle
avalanche going down the 90 degree angle that just isn't right but I can't call it obtuse.
I have gang signs littered across the human vessel, spotty and an embarrased brown covered by a collar, and green, yellow and maroon covered by sunglasses.
Love is not possession in the way abuse is not love.
Both own you. Sailing, he's steering. my cruise is on the Slave Trade Triangle route.
You never asked me to get your name tattooed on the past 18 years of dermis cut, shaved, kissed, caressed, burnt and brown.
That didn't stop you from placing yourself all over me, every blooming tulip as a penny for my thoughts stored on your test's word bank.
"Good" is only "not good enough"
mint condition only makes me green.
Miley Cyrus Dec 2014
TODAY WAS FURKING GREAT
ITS FURKING AWESOME
LIFE IS FURKING AWESOME
AND I HAVE RIGHT NOW TO DO ****
RIGHT AT THIS ******* MOMENT
AND IM GOING TO DO WHAT I WANT NOW
AND CHILL BECAUSE I'M LIVING FOR ME
like today i was chillin in my car and some lady just stared at me like full out stared, turned her whole *** back around too...
and my instinct was to show her how much i didn't give a **** about her
but you know what it's my life, people have no in on my life, they can't change who I am and i should'nt be afraid of that because if i really allow myself to love myself i'll be fine
like...
people don't even exist
it's only me and my life
whoever i let in is my buissness
whoever i don't then i'm sorry we couldnt chill
but life goes on
i can't continue to aspire to be proud of having boys google over me
or be ashamed when people laugh at me
or get embarrased or continue to get jealous over societal pretty girls
like yeah i'm different so the **** what
i'm done trying to prove it
so what i do what i do
it's my life isn't it
i only have this moment and the rest of my life to LIVE
my life is winding down
and i might have wasted 2 months of it...that i can't get back
like...
life is like a big old ice *** full of millions of people
melting little by little every second
beautiful but messy as ****
like were all beautiful, unique, different from each other
Africans, gays, lesbians, whites, native americans, like everybody we all shine equally
life is not a competition
....why does there need to be a high and a low
....lets ******* co exist like God intended
...i dont know about you guys but I'm done fighting myself against the world
the world has enough hate that i just don't want to be apart of and add on too so im out
I'd rather just chill in my own little world
with my people, new people who will come in and out...and maybe back in
...but my world is of love
...when someone calls me ugly...i say...ok and keep it movin
theres  no need to prove to them that i'm not what they think i am, or prove that i'm worthy
...not neccessary
...simply because it's my world
my life
no space, nor time, to be thinking about not giving a ****, about people, about life 24/7 like i think alot more about life thatn i actually live it and its ****** up
....i'm cutting all that uneeccesary thinking out, all that trash talk, all that rebellion against haters, no time to compete
no interest
...i value what i value
i love what i love
...i do what i do
you have your way i have mine
i define my own worth
i define my life
and simply i can choose
so **** U
J Eduardo Ramos Aug 2014
My Dog is loyal.
The unabashedly
noisy love it professes,
I'm embarrased to admit,
Is not reciprocated with
The same hallowed and pure innocence
Conveyed.

J Eduardo Ramos©
karma is dead Oct 2014
you complain that your never heard
that you wish someone would understand your sorrow
and that poetry is a way to express your innself
then hide your thoughts you write down on a page
as if your embarrased to show your true self
but maybe you should be willing to show anyone that shows
slight interest maybe you should open up your mind for the
world to see maybe you shouldnt look at others
and worry about what they think of me
negatiuve thoughts over come
optimistic actions
and sublimely create destruction
reactions that in time form into sanctions
of allowing someone to find just what there looking for
because lets be honest you've always wanted someone to find you
because your too scared to find someone yourself out of fear
they'll cause you one particular pain you dont believe
your heart can go through again
but how can someone find someone so perfect
if they dont even know they are there
you were given a voice so use it
dont abuse the power of silence because one day it will
be the only thing you will ever hear and break you piece by piece
this is really a poem it was more of a rant about myself, hope you enjoy
feel free to comment
Matt Mar 2016
I think
I may always be
Quite bored

Wandering here
Wandering there

And what's it
All about?

Just be a good guy
I guess

Maybe I'm not like
Other people

I lack drive
Or commitment

I'm just lazy

I found myself
Gently *******
On a *****

For a beautiful woman
I talked to online

Then I found myself
Listening to
A British documentary
On Afghanistan

And no
I'm not embarrased
To admit that

Lol I hope the women
Will think I am a *****
And wonderfully whimsical
Loser

Well have a good one!
I guess I'm just
Born to lose
Lol
GfS Jun 2015
If you thought you've met the clumsiest girl
you still haven't met her

No one can be as clumsy as her
because no one else had
accidental sprains
accidental bruises
accidental bumps
accidental cuts
like she had

You'd wonder why she's so clumsy
because every moment you'd see her
she has a new story that comes with a new injury
and everytime she'd talk about it
you'd see the perfect mixture of
giggly, embarrased, and happy
all at the same time

She'd smile and laugh about it
and you'd be there listening
being the perfect mixture of
worried, frustrated, and happy
all at the same time

You'd wonder at her wonderous nature
of how to smile when the injury hurts
Oh, how you'd wish
that you could be there
to tell her off and pick her up
wrap up her bruises
wipe of her tears
but thing is she won't let you
all you could do is
silently wail with her
for all she ever did was smile
I learned to wait through the storm
She learned to dance in the rain
Kelsey Feb 2017
The lights were supposed to be a barrier.
Like salt for a snail,
like the sun for a vampire.
The warm white rope
casting a spell like a mother's womb.
But no no no not here.
A light house beacon and they clamored
like tripod aliens on a crusade.
Leaving my brother shaking as he stands
in plaid boxers with one sock on.
His body weight rests on that foot
the other too vulnerable for touch down.
Are they off me? Are they off me?
He can't stop yelling it,
though I'm pretty sure it was just one.
Its the cold hour of the night
where everything is grim and surreal.
Our skin is pulled tight from our austere faces
and bones poking out.
I am nine and he is eight,
but he's always cried easier.
His clothes had been stripped off so quickly
I know they don't need shaking.
I turn them in, back out, and shake them.
They're off you, brother.
He's embarrased, and wipes his face
as he pulls his shirt down to cover his skinny hips.
Next we shake everything.
A bait and switch and the lights are piled in the corner.
The needle monsters clamor to them as though possessed.
Their radiator humming is unnerving and peaceful.
Teeming is the word to describe it.
Their own Utopia.
They won the war,
we sleep unsoundly, swollen, in the darkness.
Matt Mar 2016
Cosmic Consciousness

At the gas station
I offered to buy a man
A granola bar
He had returned

I thought he couldn't
Afford it

But he just returned it
Because there was
An ingredient in it
He couldn't have

I said I
Was embarrased

He said it was
Sweet of me

And that I restored
His faith in mankind

Well, that was
Kind of him

Just try to love
Your fellow man

I went on a walk
In the neighborhood
In the mountains

I met a kind woman
She complimented me
And I did the same

I won't say what was said
Some things
I keep only for me
And don't even
Type them here

It was a wonderful walk

I heard the birds

And I picked up
The conversations
As I often do

Dream time

I turned left down the street

As I type
I am listening to
A recording
Of birds

I cannot remember where
It was taken
There are voices
In the background

On my walk this evening
The parrots squawked
Four flew close together

"Feed the birds"
She said
She was giving them seed
On her front porch

Through the trees
Of a front lawn
A woman in her kitchen

And on the corner
A man and woman
Surveyed the small trees
And plants on their lawn

And I am reminded
That this is America

This is a beautiful land
A beautiful land
And these people
Live in peace

And in these beautiful
Mountain homes

And aren't they blessed

And I prayed
For these people

Just like I prayed
For the people
At the gym

I did not know them
But I spent so much time
WIth some people
At the gym

They are my brothers
And sisters

We spent time
Doing the same activity
In our American gym

And everyday
You have food
And shelter
And some friends

Well be grateful
Vanessa Gatley Dec 2014
As the tears roll down my eyes
     There coming down like a fast waterfall
     From both sockets
  Although I don't know which is flooding more ?
       They say the left side represents pain well it came first to that
        Afterwards the right
     I over hear what you tell your friends
       I got those ears where they tell me the truth
       I don't mix words around like scramble
         Too scared to tell me to the face that you don't wanna in-box me
          Pathetic plain lame
      How long we've known  each other & still can't be honest
           My hearts caved in turned inside out where its beat is unknown or too fast
           Now for me its a sojourn friendship in my mind and heart
          I'll  give you the same taste of biteress if that's what you've given me
         Never was there anything going on between us but it sure seemed like It almost started
                   How could let myself say No I don't have feelings for you
                      Well here's the thing I know how hes mind is set
             And it would make him feel ashamed and embarrased if he said yes to
                      Any question pertaining to me ....
                      But who cares right on how I feel think wonder about the world
                        That winter dream cant even be thought of now
                                 No point
                                The hot fire warmth for anyone
                                     The cuddling blankets ,  hot cocoa
                             Watching the snow fall or even , making snow angels
JoshD Oct 2014
I'm afraid that it's not just a habit* you confessed
that it had become a compulsion.
For when it all becomes too much
that thin blade and your skin become one

you were so embarrased to tell me
hated giving away your secrets even then
I was so uneasy--I'd already know for so long
those little white lines bespoke your troubled mind

Like I could miss it--your arms crisscrossed, a map of self-hurt
I came to know the signs- your frown, the twitching in your seat
the discomfort, the silence, you were already planning the when,
the where, the number of times, the sacrificial amount required for peace

you tried to hide it--just go over the same cut you explained
the scars make it harder, but it's less marks in the end.
You could be a surgeon with your skills, your steady hand
bleeding out the pain, the anger, the unhappiness you harbored

Now that you have left, are you still there in that dark room,
blade in hand, fighting back the tears and letting that pained joy fill you
as each crimson drop runs down your leg?
For her--I only wish she could truly see the woman that I fell in love with, and stop punishing herself for the past.  I loved her, still do, and hoped to help her see that she was so much more than she gave herself credit for.  I just hope that she's happy, most of all with herself.
I felt
Embarrased
It would've been easier
To eat in front of you
Than that
But there's no
Taking it back
No time machine
To change the past
It's okay
I guess
Because
Things happen
And we just have to move forward.
Jon Shierling Apr 2016
Restitution*
Even now, I think that perhaps we followed each other,
dogged each others' steps for many years
before stumbling upon the ocean our love became.
As people who seemed divorced from the world we live in
maybe Nature drew us together, or more likely it was Nurture.
No matter.
You touched me that first night, for the first time, in the first room,
whispering "hush" as you put your fingers to my lips. Always you are
embarrased of your hands, "Rough" hands, "Not at all like a
woman's" hands should be, and I never could fathom who gave you
that ****** up idea. When you touch me, when I remember the feel
of them, I always think of driftwood, and smile. Powerful and utterly
lacking in self-conciousness, your hands knew their origin,
remembered the glory and the majesty of making fire, of making a
meal, of making love, of bringing forth light and life out of the
depths. I hated it when you apologized for such wonderful things.
For it was with those hands you brought something back in me,
something lain dormant and whimpering the dark, dying of thirst in an
empty land long forsaken. Holding you in my arms brought strength
back into them, your teeth on my skin ripped a growl from my lungs,
just remembering your voice crying out in surrender and triumph
makes me want to tear off my clothes and dance naked around a
roaring bonfire, howl like a wolf into the night for the sheer joy of it.
After so long being dead, you kissed me, and I was again alive.
Junior May 2018
Love is acceptance. Him melding into her and her melding into him. Love is opening up to each other and not being embarrased about the fact that they're in love.
Love is affection. Holding hands and cuddling with each other. Lookin into each other and saying "I love you".
Love is knowing. Knowing that he will be there for her and she for him. Knowing that they'll be together even in death.
Love is letting go. Letting go of fear and showing who you are; knowing that you'll be loved none the less.
AnEscape Jul 2015
When I first saw you, I would have never thought I would love you this much.
Remember when I saw you in the park, it was the first craziest thing I have ever done in my life. I remember my heart beating so loud as I leave the house heading to the park afraid that someone would expose me.
I remember it was too dark, I was wearing my favorite pair of jeans and a tank top.
I was shivering although it wasn't too cold.
When I saw you, I felt the moment freezed somehow. I remember, it was the first time you hugged me so tight that I could hear your heart beat, or maybe it was mine, I don't even know. I remember how you did not care about anyone around us, it almost felt like we were alone in their. Remember how it was the first time I kissed your hands? You were pulling them away from, as if it was violating your dignity. I remember I did it without even thinking about it. Remember when you kissed me for the very first time? Remember how you did not look right or left, not caring about the place and the people? Rememeber how it felt... It took me away from myself.. I don't remember how did you feel after that.. but I remember how I was so childish and almost felt embarrased all the time after. I miss my old self. The one who loved you "unconditionally".. The one who trusted you in not leaving.. Remember how safe it was when I was with you? I miss it. I miss being safe. I miss placing my head on your shoulders. I miss feeling secure with you, as if you were protecting me from any harm. I miss the person I loved with all my heart without even thinking if what I was doing is right or wrong. Before I close my eyes to sleep, I remember all of these memories which are living in me. Your touch, warmth, smell and love... I can never look pass them.. Even after a hundred years.. You taught me what the word "love" means. You made me feel loved, you cared for me like I was your daughter...
and now I should forget all of that, I should hate you.. I shouldn't remember any of it.. How sad it is that love is fading after years of great memories..
Chloe works Nov 2017
It's not that I don't want to be friendly,
nor I don't want to be with anyone.
It's despite, how I try,
I can't be that friendly.
I feel embarrased, ashamed of what I am doing,
Why can't I trust people around me?
I asked myself but I didn't get the answer.
Maybe it's the way my parents raised me.
How they made me feel that I should not trust  anyone.
Or maybe it's the people around me.
Their eyes-- that has so many judgements,
Their mouth-- that keeps on talking.
Each and everyone of us does lie,
So how can I trust at least one?
I tend to avoid everyone,
Ignore them--
Afraid that they may not like me,
Even how hard I try I can't give my trust to anyone.
But not this time,
Now that I have the guts to pull myself up.
To give it a try,
Why not?
I want to have a friend,
At least one.
I'll give it a try,
Can you be my friend?
Can I give it a shot?
I tried so hard,
So hard that I don't know how many sighs did I make,
To face you and the people around me.
Can I trust you?
I can lose--
but still, I did try.
At least I tried,
I tried talking to you.
Asking you to be my friend,
A trusted one.
My companion, my shoulder to lean on,
And as I live in this world.
I'll trust you,
But can I have at least one favor?
Just this one,
Can you not break my trust?
Don't let me put up a wall,
Once again, don't let me put up my wall.
Don't....
sobroquet Jan 2021
These past five years I’ve been an insufferable  mess
lie after lie after  venal lie,  my nation in distress
too ashamed, angry + embarrased to look others in the eye, I must confess
this January 20th though, I feel quite blessed
though this trial has passed, so much to be done
reconciling America to her rightful place beneath  the Lord's  righteous sun
hopping mad, youngsters won’t get it, that  I understand
but our democracy + Republic came close to being ******
a profusion of demoniacs stole power
the 4th estate was assailed + almost chased her from her tower
but common decency prevailed like a magnificent flower
and a garden of hope has replaced the dour
marauding despots who hurt her
we won’t forget the damage done
for out of many, we are one
E pluribus unum
out of many, one (the motto of the US).
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/E_pluribus_unum

The 4th Estae
The real problem of  the  ”press as an enemy of the people”
(a ludicrous proposition)  isn’t because of the occasionally
fake or the outright  phoniness of yellow journalism,
its because many individual members of the press (and especially collectively) possess an eminently superior understanding of government protocol, strictures and procedures far beyond that of bureaucrats. An honest democracy cannot view the free press as a threat nor be opposed to its scrutiny. Indeed the free press is an intended purposeful vanguard. In as as much, they are heralds.
The press are in essence freedom fighters of the highest
constitutional order, (1st Amendment). Their tireless meticulous sifting of what is true and false is invaluable. The founders of the US Constitution anticipated that the freedom of the press (unfettered truth) would ultimately hold the feet of the craftiest despot to the proverbial fire of light. ©kwr

In every  nation there exists an intelligentsia but only in  despotic totalitarian nations are they  feared, oppressed and denied.

— The End —