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"embarrassing" poems
Humanity i love you because you would rather black the boots of success than enquire whose soul dangles from his watch-chain which would be embarrassing for both parties and because you unflinchingly applaud all songs containing the words country home and mother when sung at the old howard Humanity i love you because when you’re hard up you pawn your intelligence to buy a drink and when you’re flush pride keeps you from the pawn shop and because you are continually committing nuisances but more especially in your own house Humanity i love you because you are perpetually putting the secret of life in your pants and forgetting it’s there and sitting down on it and because you are forever making poems in the lap of death Humanity i hate you
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285.4k
Humanity I Love You
I am loud, Demanding attention. I know when I am being charming Because I try. I put on my impressing face And do my impressing hair And speak my impressing words. I tell you my embarrassing drinking stories And everything else about me That you probably shouldn’t know. I am not good at being quiet Because that’s not who I am. I am not the sweet girl Who will leave you with a smile And a touch And a glance Or a single word. There is nothing of this fashion of romance About me. I am the girl who will point out your flaws, And take you outside to see the stars, And remind you how human you are, And what a wonderful thing that is. I am the girl who will talk about science, And music and theology and history, And point out constellations, laughing, When you don’t know the big dipper’s name. I am the girl who will make witty references, To classic literature and science fiction, And will tell you stories of how I once, Made a gingerbread replica of a lighthouse. I am the girl who will stand on a table, And sing at the top of my lungs on the highway, And act like a chicken or quail or velociraptor, Or nuzzle your face like a lion to make a point. I am the girl who takes too many shots And then coaxes you to bed on a Russian liver, And knows all the right places to bite, and tease, And follows with exceptionally coherent pillow-talk. I am not a thin silk scarf on the wind. I am not a thing hard to capture. You would not spend a perilous journey Through a wild, perfumed jungle, Searching for my slender garments Hung beside a pool As I wail to the breeze. Rather, I am the bird who flies overhead Making too much noise Distracting from the trail ahead. A bird whose plumage proves What an interesting life it must be… What a colorful life for me… Perpetually strange The lone comic relief. I am many things. But I am not quiet. Of this I am sure.
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Sep 7, 2012
Sep 7, 2012 at 6:27 AM UTC
I am Loud
I am loud, Demanding attention. I know when I am being charming Because I try. I put on my impressing face And do my impressing hair And speak my impressing words. I tell you my embarrassing drinking stories And everything else about me That you probably shouldn’t know. I am not good at being quiet Because that’s not who I am. I am not the sweet girl Who will leave you with a smile And a touch And a glance Or a single word. There is nothing of this fashion of romance About me. I am the girl who will point out your flaws, And take you outside to see the stars, And remind you how human you are, And what a wonderful thing that is. I am the girl who will talk about science, And music and theology and history, And point out constellations, laughing, When you don’t know the big dipper’s name. I am the girl who will make witty references, To classic literature and science fiction, And will tell you stories of how I once, Made a gingerbread replica of a lighthouse. I am the girl who will stand on a table, And sing at the top of my lungs on the highway, And act like a chicken or quail or velociraptor, Or nuzzle your face like a lion to make a point. I am the girl who takes too many shots And then coaxes you to bed on a Russian liver, And knows all the right places to bite, and tease, And follows with exceptionally coherent pillow-talk. I am not a thin silk scarf on the wind. I am not a thing hard to capture. You would not spend a perilous journey Through a wild, perfumed jungle, Searching for my slender garments Hung beside a pool As I wail to the breeze. Rather, I am the bird who flies overhead Making too much noise Distracting from the trail ahead. A bird whose plumage proves What an interesting life it must be… What a colorful life for me… Perpetually strange The lone comic relief. I am many things. But I am not quiet. Of this I am sure.
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57
Crush Him around Heart starts to pound Fast, faster Loud, louder Hard, harder Wildly now my heart’s pumping To my face blood keeps rushing My cheeks starts flushing My chest now aching I stop breathing Now I’m hyperventilating This is embarrassing What if he’s looking? No, Oh no... noooOOOoooo! .... Nah, I’m just joking Who am I kidding He didn’t notice He doesn’t care He doesn’t even know I exist
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Jun 13, 2015
Jun 13, 2015 at 4:13 AM UTC
CRUSH
To lie or not to lie - that is the question: Whether 'tis better to keep the truth Shutting the light in the dark, Or to bring upon pain or pleasure Why, by bringing truth, gain unwanted reaction. To lie, deceit - No more - and by secret to say what we want to say The will of truth and lie That flows from lips - 'tis an infection One craved by all. To lie, deceit - Deceit, perhaps too much. Ay, there's the problem. For in that deceit of truth what pathologic lieing may come. When we have gained such filthy pleasure from this lie, Must force us thought. That's the reality That makes chaos of such pleasure. For who really wants to hear or speak an ugly truth, The lover's love gone, the child's art trash, The woman's ugly face, the man's unattractive body, The co-worker's stench, and the embarrassing blemish That gives opportunity for lie, When they themselves would appreciate Why give them heart ache? Who would give them truth, To give them hurt, But the chance they would enjoy the truth, The unknown glee from fate's unlucky victims For the victim's mind confuses the liar And makes the liar want to speak truth And to see that reaction instead. Thus turning pathologic lieing into suthe saying, And thus the addicting infection Is cured with the disease of truth, And infection seems less appealing With this regard the lies soon stop And lose what effect they once had.
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May 4, 2014
May 4, 2014 at 6:08 PM UTC
To Lie or not to Lie - That is the Question
One friend is deaf but manages to hear twice as much as I do, while simultaneously embedding himself in games and genius. One friend is kind and smart, always complimenting and supporting others before herself. One friend is quiet, and she is both easily embarrassed and easily embarrassing. One friend is the previous friend's brother, and crushes on me while never saying enough. One friend is very intelligent and geeky, and detests wearing skirts even more than I. One friend is really in your face and dramatic, pushing the boundaries on everything, but noone hates him. One friend is the unfortunate brother of a great annoyance, but is her polar opposite. One friend has hair of constantly changing color; blue, green, pink, black, yellow, brown, but always the same hoodie no matter her hair choice. One friend has a thousand faux laughs, but guards his true one from the light. One friend has a mocking joke for everything, and you can't help but laugh with her. One friend has a treasured hat and while sketching everyone, everything, and everywhere, lays my insecurities to rest as I do the same for him, both of us in need of some love and understanding from a kindred spirit. One friend has an obsession with a band and a book and a show, and an overbubbling enthusiasm for everything in her life. One friend has a meme for everything, and a perverse thought for every situation he encounters. One friend is half blind but she manages to see twice as much as me and explains everything beautifully. One friend is crazy and gets away with the exclamation of abraham lincoln in any awkward silence because its just his nature. One friend is as a mouse, but a genius in every aspect and hides behind her glasses. One friend is obnoxiously loud and more of a dork than the gangster his hoodie implies so everyone simply laughs. One friend smiles like a duck in the cutest way, and wears her square glasses in the best way. One friend longs for a love that is loyal and hide s behind his temperment
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Sep 22, 2012
Sep 22, 2012 at 5:58 PM UTC
a silly poem for my silly friends
One friend is deaf but manages to hear twice as much as I do, while simultaneously embedding himself in games and genius. One friend is kind and smart, always complimenting and supporting others before herself. One friend is quiet, and she is both easily embarrassed and easily embarrassing. One friend is the previous friend's brother, and crushes on me while never saying enough. One friend is very intelligent and geeky, and detests wearing skirts even more than I. One friend is really in your face and dramatic, pushing the boundaries on everything, but noone hates him. One friend is the unfortunate brother of a great annoyance, but is her polar opposite. One friend has hair of constantly changing color; blue, green, pink, black, yellow, brown, but always the same hoodie no matter her hair choice. One friend has a thousand faux laughs, but guards his true one from the light. One friend has a mocking joke for everything, and you can't help but laugh with her. One friend has a treasured hat and while sketching everyone, everything, and everywhere, lays my insecurities to rest as I do the same for him, both of us in need of some love and understanding from a kindred spirit. One friend has an obsession with a band and a book and a show, and an overbubbling enthusiasm for everything in her life. One friend has a meme for everything, and a perverse thought for every situation he encounters. One friend is half blind but she manages to see twice as much as me and explains everything beautifully. One friend is crazy and gets away with the exclamation of abraham lincoln in any awkward silence because its just his nature. One friend is as a mouse, but a genius in every aspect and hides behind her glasses. One friend is obnoxiously loud and more of a dork than the gangster his hoodie implies so everyone simply laughs. One friend smiles like a duck in the cutest way, and wears her square glasses in the best way. One friend longs for a love that is loyal and hide s behind his temperment
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34
Take it back, please I do not want Your gift anymore because It lives in my sheets Making it hard to sleep Every night I am thinking About him And whether or Not My gift hides in his Sheets, or If it is tucked Away in a closet Of embarrassing laundry His mother will never Clean
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Mar 2, 2013
Mar 2, 2013 at 9:56 PM UTC
Virginity
we are monsters from the boutique to the embroidered throw pillows the pen dashed around the neck stage 5 bone cut sawing ossification to the hollow core we are monsters hooting in tunnels lined with bats coming out to feast creation to scrape the streets shimmy the walls bust the coffin and succckk we are monsters who can't enter under the doorframe fearful of being burned by the sun silver stake rat poison holy water sickle and windmill ash we are monsters sewed stapled dead meat skin hair plugs ceramic teeth tested and tasted by rats we are monsters jumping high over white fences frenzied explosion running through corn angrily bled in a field shot and hunted like embarrassing waterfowl in the jaws of mammalia we are monsters of flaming brilliance flashing in your inbox read us and gnaw braised roasted grilled limbs watch as we watch you be scared and stab I promise we don't die.
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Oct 1, 2015
Oct 1, 2015 at 2:32 PM UTC
march of the writers
im not trying to cause a riot but no more nice girl being quiet im telling my story this time and its not my fault you commited the crime i've been hiding in the dark healing on my own but im not that same girl anymore im not going to pick up my phone it wasn't "one little mistake" no, you knew i was barely awake you took away my choice but you didn't take away my voice i'm ready to use it now to speak up for the truth despite the backlash i know i will inevitably face when i look you in the eyes tonight you told me what happened while your hand was on my thigh "its embarrassing you got that drunk" even my friends turned a blind eye it took me years to process a simple caress would cause distress but now i can say nothing makes it okay and nothing gave you the right when i was passed out 6 years ago, midnight
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Dec 17, 2022
Dec 17, 2022 at 10:00 PM UTC
6 years ago, midnight
Me and you, doing what we do. Under the sheets; Keeping secrets, behind your back. looking at your interview, and I, love the view. You ****** me, I’m ******* you; now its back to you. lifting your skirt up, easy access for me and you. Getting deep; taking in all of me. Giving you multiple choices; take it in. me climb on top, you riding me. With, no surprise to me, you; end up, picking all three. Inside of you; Me covered with thee; sexually: hot and all juicy. Good Girl; Naughty thoughts, feeling filthy. Go a-head, blame it all on me. It’s building up, feel the intensity. Handling my business; by loving your company. It is what it is, because it’s meant to be. Love is everything, so you will be the death of me. Giving it to me so good, your antidote. Is like dope to me. Love potion, Seducing me. Sexually, spiritually, physically and mentally. Event filled nights; eventually. Lost in deep thoughts; hopefully You are, understanding me, while looking up at; I marvel at what I see. Your nectar, taste like honey from the finest be. Fruit, fit for a God; hand picked for me. My kingdom come, is one thing. But my Hung Dynasty; is something you have to see. My thunderbolt, will pardon your seas, as your waves of passion ride over me; I vibe with the motion of your ocean: blowing our minds. Your Ocean spray; splashed all over me. Giving her-a- cane, and made her purple rain: She giggled, because it was embarrassing.
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Jul 4, 2014
Jul 4, 2014 at 6:30 PM UTC
Rated(R):Emotions mixed with Emotion
I wonder about the pearl that sits in her pocket preciously hidden like a photo in a locket. I wonder what it means when it gets to be seen. Does it hide in fear? Fragile in need of protection. Or is it very present- at risk of detection. Embarrassing reveal- so tucked away and sealed. I wonder about the pearl I wish to steal.
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Jul 31, 2014
Jul 31, 2014 at 1:25 PM UTC
Pearl
She gave you a smile. Teeth showing and all. You could almost hear The crashing of her walls As they hit the ground. You go to take her hand And she begins to twirl A strand of hair between Her fingers. Still shy and Timid, the fragile girl. Where will you ever see Such beautiful almond shaped Brown eyes other than standing here, On this beauty. Oh, yes, you call Her Beauty.   **** You can't help yourself From imagining all that you would Like to happen if given the chance. But, not here! Not at Church for God's Sake! He should strike you down in This very moment… Yet, who could Blame you? When the prayer ends, you look At Beauty one last time before Having to take your seat. A hint Of a smirk plays on her lips and She looks down to your pants. Oh God. She knows.. How Embarrassing. This is a place of God and this is sin.. Yet you can't help but to feel Pleased.
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Jun 28, 2014
Jun 28, 2014 at 1:44 PM UTC
Beauty
an all purpose cleaner response to the how-ya-doing-question, as my vibe unmistakable; the hatred in the world directed at MY PEOPLE, is inexplicable, beyond reason, a hatred raw and pure in the tiny places we humans hide it, lest our ancient linkage to an unreasoned, embarrassing emotion, be revealed but now revealed it is reveled, as the freedom to despise is a valued thing is an ancient scar, now freshly wounded and the two thousand year old accumulated, callused, surrounding wafer thin, layered upon layer of tissue, wiped away in utter disbelief cleansed, a different kind of impure clean, “like” an ethnic cleansing, traceless, whisked away in a wink of moment, a goner. like hope, prior sentient optimism sentenced to life imprisonment and this sentence, and this very sentence! written finally understanding that it is a punishment far worse than the quick relief of death. c’mon, how about a few “fukk you jew” cri de coeur, heartfelt, genuine, pointless hate no, not I, no, not me, spare me the pithy comments, the pointless sympathy, glistening like evaporating water droplets before disappearing, I ask myself, not why they hate, why it persists, for this I understand and accept the foulness of what we are capable of is, beloved, as a secret pleasure, now secreted in torrents. no, I ask myself, why do I write poetry, for it is as pointless as the hatred directed at me, from birth, till death, and ever after, the humanity of poetry just another fraud another reason why this man cries in the bathroom,^ not from any shape of shame, because poetry is pointless in times of hatred, and now we know, recognize, it is always somewhere, nearby, always present and prescient, pointless hatred, itching to be pointed at me, makes for pointless poetry. To whom shall I point my poetry?
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Nov 12, 2023
Nov 12, 2023 at 2:08 AM UTC
“raggedy^ around the edges” (jew hatred, pointless poetry)
an all purpose cleaner response to the how-ya-doing-question, as my vibe unmistakable; the hatred in the world directed at MY PEOPLE, is inexplicable, beyond reason, a hatred raw and pure in the tiny places we humans hide it, lest our ancient linkage to an unreasoned, embarrassing emotion, be revealed but now revealed it is reveled, as the freedom to despise is a valued thing is an ancient scar, now freshly wounded and the two thousand year old accumulated, callused, surrounding wafer thin, layered upon layer of tissue, wiped away in utter disbelief cleansed, a different kind of impure clean, “like” an ethnic cleansing, traceless, whisked away in a wink of moment, a goner. like hope, prior sentient optimism sentenced to life imprisonment and this sentence, and this very sentence! written finally understanding that it is a punishment far worse than the quick relief of death. c’mon, how about a few “fukk you jew” cri de coeur, heartfelt, genuine, pointless hate no, not I, no, not me, spare me the pithy comments, the pointless sympathy, glistening like evaporating water droplets before disappearing, I ask myself, not why they hate, why it persists, for this I understand and accept the foulness of what we are capable of is, beloved, as a secret pleasure, now secreted in torrents. no, I ask myself, why do I write poetry, for it is as pointless as the hatred directed at me, from birth, till death, and ever after, the humanity of poetry just another fraud another reason why this man cries in the bathroom,^ not from any shape of shame, because poetry is pointless in times of hatred, and now we know, recognize, it is always somewhere, nearby, always present and prescient, pointless hatred, itching to be pointed at me, makes for pointless poetry. To whom shall I point my poetry?
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65
Everything and nothing Always seems to haunts me You know am trying Hanging on by a heartbeat Trying to do what you want Imagining what's in store Everything that could of been I am trying but why bother
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Jul 14, 2013
Jul 14, 2013 at 4:37 PM UTC
Embarrassing
Sara L Russell, 15th January 2016, 00:04 ------------------------------------------------------------------- So yeah this is me and Julie outside H&M;… trying too hard to look **** Desperate tarts more like. We went to Starbucks after that, then the pub, and then… the rest of the afternoon's a blur. Haha. ----------✿----------- Oh yes and this one's me with Foo Foo, stupid cat's sitting on top of my presentation. She can be useless at times but she makes a good hot water bottle when it's like, really cold? You know? Cats are great for that. Dead sympathetic too. Good listeners. ----------✿----------- Oh now this is a good one. This is me with that **** actor off I'm a Celebrity. He was in… actually I can't remember what he was in? Really like, **** though? Yet I've only seen him on I'm a Celebrity? Anyway he was cool with stopping for a selfie. God love him. (Whoever he is). ----------✿----------- Ahh… this one is me with Julie again. She's such a ****** She's got one of those light up Santa hats on. Daft ***** Never did get one for me. Not that I'd wear one. I prefer those furry reindeer antlers. See? There's one of me with antlers on. ----------✿----------- Oh here's one of me and Mum. Yeah very sad I know. She tries so hard to be cool, bless her. Embarrassing really. I gave her my old phone and she still hasn't worked out how to use it. Takes loads of photos of herself though. So sad.
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Jan 14, 2016
Jan 14, 2016 at 7:12 PM UTC
Queen of the Selfie
I have little to say in new environments. I tend to act shy and forget how to form words. So when I had to go to marching practice and was surrounded by people I didn't know I suffered. Was it not obvious that I was flustered when I fell five times in thirty minutes? Maybe it wasn't obvious how I kept repeating the same thing over and over again, hoping people would stop staring. But instead of caring you walked straight up to me and made me look like a fool in front of everyone. **** in, you're stomach is showing!"* You exclaimed before poking me with a drumstick and catching me off guard. It hurt and my torso bent and all the upper classmen laughed at me. So thank you for embarrassing me, it will not be forgotten. It won't be forgotten like the time you insulted me in the seventh grade and I 'accepted' your apology. But what do I know? I'm just a kid and you're a band director
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Jul 26, 2014
Jul 26, 2014 at 5:08 PM UTC
Band Director
I've done a lot of things I'm not proud of but I can't be tied to those forever so people forgive and forget I try to forget but still feel bad and I know there are still sore subjects that I should be sensitive about. Scrolling through Reddit I see a post of Māori students at an airport greeting their returning teacher with a traditional Māori war dance which was an admittedly sweet gesture but something didn't sit right with me. I wondered why the students greeting their teacher had to do so through a display of militaristic nationalism I wondered if that was the last dance the Moriori people saw before the Māori genocided them for their resources I wondered if the Māori danced like that as they ***** murdered, and cannibalized the Moriori. Wondering all of this made me ask myself: Why did they have to greet their teacher like that? The students wanted to make a big gesture which dancing is perfect for but dancing can also be vulnerable and embarrassing because people may mock how you express yourself but strangers at the airport are less likely to laugh at you if you're doing a synchronized dance with a group of people and the dancing is recognizably tied to national identity because then it's a culturally rich dance you're a xenophobe for laughing at and that's what nationalism is: strength in numbers and a readymade identity in lieu of an individual personality oftentimes for the sake of pistanthrophobia. So as I read the circlejerking comments on the post I wondered what the difference is between a Māori war dance and a **** salute I guess the Māori people have experienced more oppression than Nazis but nationalism is nationalism and those who have oppressed are oppressors and many who are oppressed would gladly be oppressors given the chance. Nationalism isn't healthy for culture and often isolates people from other cultures that are all combining due to globalization which people fight to preserve their little dances and costumes so we can stay in eternal conflict over delusions of supremacy when the only nationality should be a global one.
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Aug 28, 2022
Aug 28, 2022 at 8:41 PM UTC
Nationalism
I've done a lot of things I'm not proud of but I can't be tied to those forever so people forgive and forget I try to forget but still feel bad and I know there are still sore subjects that I should be sensitive about. Scrolling through Reddit I see a post of Māori students at an airport greeting their returning teacher with a traditional Māori war dance which was an admittedly sweet gesture but something didn't sit right with me. I wondered why the students greeting their teacher had to do so through a display of militaristic nationalism I wondered if that was the last dance the Moriori people saw before the Māori genocided them for their resources I wondered if the Māori danced like that as they ***** murdered, and cannibalized the Moriori. Wondering all of this made me ask myself: Why did they have to greet their teacher like that? The students wanted to make a big gesture which dancing is perfect for but dancing can also be vulnerable and embarrassing because people may mock how you express yourself but strangers at the airport are less likely to laugh at you if you're doing a synchronized dance with a group of people and the dancing is recognizably tied to national identity because then it's a culturally rich dance you're a xenophobe for laughing at and that's what nationalism is: strength in numbers and a readymade identity in lieu of an individual personality oftentimes for the sake of pistanthrophobia. So as I read the circlejerking comments on the post I wondered what the difference is between a Māori war dance and a **** salute I guess the Māori people have experienced more oppression than Nazis but nationalism is nationalism and those who have oppressed are oppressors and many who are oppressed would gladly be oppressors given the chance. Nationalism isn't healthy for culture and often isolates people from other cultures that are all combining due to globalization which people fight to preserve their little dances and costumes so we can stay in eternal conflict over delusions of supremacy when the only nationality should be a global one.
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48
The first comment I received a **** you" with a smiley face I laughed off wouldn't you? Kind of crazy kind of creepy put it away as some one we all know. The second comment came with the usual language refrain I was a "hack" my words were "dreck". The disparaging words about my dead mother gave me pause to reflect. The third comment and more began to recall information of past faux pas secret affairs one or two personal pecadillos never mentioned beyond the dialogues in my mind. Embarrassing I know. I, of course, went to the home page to see if it was someone known to me. No identifying data but a picture I remembered vaguely from a past I didn't know. The trolling continued relentless I would say pulled the plug put up a block but wouldn't you know The comments continued to come into my dreams brutal criticism of every move I made the day finally arrived when I realized Alter personalities were shedding off of me like psychological psoriasis They were hitting the ground running I was finding poems I didn't remember writing clothes I never bought People kept hugging me I had never met before they knew me far to well called me many names none of which were mine. The silence of my nights were broken when I found myself in my car on Highway 101 returning from where I did not know with a smile on my face illegal drugs in my pocket. How did I get here? How did we get there? Where are we now? Another account opened on Hello Poetry with an anagram of my name. I find my days getting shorter and shorter it became clear I had become the dream The others had become me.
0
Aug 2, 2014
Aug 2, 2014 at 9:58 AM UTC
Dissociative Identity Disorder (Multiple Personality) On Hello Poetry
The first comment I received a **** you" with a smiley face I laughed off wouldn't you? Kind of crazy kind of creepy put it away as some one we all know. The second comment came with the usual language refrain I was a "hack" my words were "dreck". The disparaging words about my dead mother gave me pause to reflect. The third comment and more began to recall information of past faux pas secret affairs one or two personal pecadillos never mentioned beyond the dialogues in my mind. Embarrassing I know. I, of course, went to the home page to see if it was someone known to me. No identifying data but a picture I remembered vaguely from a past I didn't know. The trolling continued relentless I would say pulled the plug put up a block but wouldn't you know The comments continued to come into my dreams brutal criticism of every move I made the day finally arrived when I realized Alter personalities were shedding off of me like psychological psoriasis They were hitting the ground running I was finding poems I didn't remember writing clothes I never bought People kept hugging me I had never met before they knew me far to well called me many names none of which were mine. The silence of my nights were broken when I found myself in my car on Highway 101 returning from where I did not know with a smile on my face illegal drugs in my pocket. How did I get here? How did we get there? Where are we now? Another account opened on Hello Poetry with an anagram of my name. I find my days getting shorter and shorter it became clear I had become the dream The others had become me.
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82
I don't know what you could call this exactly, I was at a musical concert in one of the states And a school filled with children of less than 13 years of age Presented a song which I could call a petition. They were praying earnestly for God to save Nigeria From lawless people, bloodshed, assassination and a list of other wreckless things It touched me that finally, it has gotten to this! When children start to file a petition to God against our leaders saying for their sake God should save the nation It's a bit disturbing that even the kids know that there is a problem with this nation. Do we have to ridicule ourselves forever? The children who were in the ***** and groins some years back have come to understand the situation and are crying out. The educational standard is falling to pieces and the threads would have to be carefully woven together if we wanna make something out of it again. It's embarrassing to know that there are so many sectors that has failed, absolutely nothing is working. Our leaders still apportion blame. Roads are not good and then you get to hear one is a federal road one is state owned. Does it matter who owns the road if it is in their country? Why aren't everyone looking beyond their noses and see what's wrong. Our youths have resolved to fraud when hard work and talents aren't appreciated. Universities have been shut down for months now in the name of strike and the government officials could afford to eat and carry on their daily activities! Aren't they meant to be in the hospital, complaining of one illness or the other as a result of the unrest the matter has caused? Disheartening! Even the hospitals go on strike and innocent people are left to die as a result of no medical attention. I was moved to tears when these children sang. The nation's unrest and matters have become prayer points in all places of worship. God should indeed look down from His throne, have mercy on us and save Nigeria!
0
Oct 26, 2013
Oct 26, 2013 at 9:28 AM UTC
God Save Nigeria
I don't know what you could call this exactly, I was at a musical concert in one of the states And a school filled with children of less than 13 years of age Presented a song which I could call a petition. They were praying earnestly for God to save Nigeria From lawless people, bloodshed, assassination and a list of other wreckless things It touched me that finally, it has gotten to this! When children start to file a petition to God against our leaders saying for their sake God should save the nation It's a bit disturbing that even the kids know that there is a problem with this nation. Do we have to ridicule ourselves forever? The children who were in the ***** and groins some years back have come to understand the situation and are crying out. The educational standard is falling to pieces and the threads would have to be carefully woven together if we wanna make something out of it again. It's embarrassing to know that there are so many sectors that has failed, absolutely nothing is working. Our leaders still apportion blame. Roads are not good and then you get to hear one is a federal road one is state owned. Does it matter who owns the road if it is in their country? Why aren't everyone looking beyond their noses and see what's wrong. Our youths have resolved to fraud when hard work and talents aren't appreciated. Universities have been shut down for months now in the name of strike and the government officials could afford to eat and carry on their daily activities! Aren't they meant to be in the hospital, complaining of one illness or the other as a result of the unrest the matter has caused? Disheartening! Even the hospitals go on strike and innocent people are left to die as a result of no medical attention. I was moved to tears when these children sang. The nation's unrest and matters have become prayer points in all places of worship. God should indeed look down from His throne, have mercy on us and save Nigeria!
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16
I can make anybody pretty I can make you believe any lie I can make you pick a fight With somebody twice your size I been known to cause a few break ups I been known to cause a few births I can make you new friends Or get you fired from Work And since the day I left Milwaukee Lynchburg and Bordeaux France Been making the bars lots of big money And helping white people dance I got you in trouble in high school But college, now that was a ball You had some of the best times You'll never remember with me Alcohol Alcohol I got blamed at your wedding reception For your best man's embarrassing speech And also for those Naked pictures of you at the beach I've influenced kings and world leaders I helped Hemmingway write like he did And I'll bet you a drink or two that I can make you Put that lampshade on your head 'Cause since the day I left Milwaukee Lynchburg and Bordeaux France Been making a fool out of folks just like you And helping white people dance I'm medicine and I am poison I can help you up or make you fall You had some of the best times You'll never remember with me Alcohol Alcohol
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Jun 9, 2015
Jun 9, 2015 at 3:41 AM UTC
Alcohol
This ***** ****** They say that beauty is in the eyes of the Beholder, so does this ***** have eyes? the power of evil and bad, Today we see what it can do Many a nation have gone to war, Because of this ugly beauty, many family units has been tread apart Because of its evil doings, The seven hundred wives of King Solomon and his three Hundred concubines was a great example of what the ugly beauty can do: Infidelity is on the rise, so many lies: so many shortcoming, Lucy ****** is an embarrassing subject why men lie and killed for it? this remarkable commodity: with ****** is like a Van Gogh painting, It gets lot of attention: the baseline dimensions is still a mystery: A weapon so powerful It can break a man down to his lowest It has a language of its own. silly words like sup, sup, sup. the same sound effects of a cold beer going down the gullets: the smoother, the  esophagus: pleasers The ****** and a beer have so much in common they both get their men all the time, a smooth transportation, in addition, the lamentation, ****** you are surely blissful: Men incredible dreams who wouldn’t want to own the team? No matter how destructive or fulfilling: ** Ô, the wine of a woman from heaven is sent, more perfect than all that a man can invent.” ― Roman Payne** Quote
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Apr 29, 2018
Apr 29, 2018 at 2:07 PM UTC
This ***** ******
Let’s start this with some counting One, two, Three One, two, Three One, two, Three Three One in three girls In this room will Suffer at the hands Of the one who swears They love you The one who swears They’ll never hurt you Again But it happens Again And Again And Again And Again Again We pretend It only Happens to us Let's do some more counting One, two, three, four One, two, three, four One, two, three, four One, two, three, four Four One in four of you boys Will be affected By the words she said By the cuts and bruises She caused You have no clue How they happened Because it's embarrassing To admit you got your *** Kicked by a girl Only due to the fact You refuse to Hit her back Because you respect More counting One, two, Three One, two, Three One, two, Three Three Three Three Three women will have died today From Domestic Violence It's such a strange paradox Domestic is calm and tame Violence is a force that is intended to hurt, damage, or **** And from where I Stand there is Nothing- Nothing Domestic about Violence Knowing these Facts It makes me afraid I am afraid to be a Lover To be a Mother Because when I look at my past When I look at my past I am afraid it will repeat I am afraid I’ll choose a man Who beats me with an aluminum baseball bat Like my own mother did When I look at my past I am afraid it will repeat I am afraid A man will choose me And I’ll abuse him with my words And he’ll take it Like my father does When I look at my past I am terrified it will repeat I am terrified My children will look for an escape Like the five million children do Like I do
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Jun 1, 2019
Jun 1, 2019 at 2:55 PM UTC
Counting Victims
Let’s start this with some counting One, two, Three One, two, Three One, two, Three Three One in three girls In this room will Suffer at the hands Of the one who swears They love you The one who swears They’ll never hurt you Again But it happens Again And Again And Again And Again Again We pretend It only Happens to us Let's do some more counting One, two, three, four One, two, three, four One, two, three, four One, two, three, four Four One in four of you boys Will be affected By the words she said By the cuts and bruises She caused You have no clue How they happened Because it's embarrassing To admit you got your *** Kicked by a girl Only due to the fact You refuse to Hit her back Because you respect More counting One, two, Three One, two, Three One, two, Three Three Three Three Three women will have died today From Domestic Violence It's such a strange paradox Domestic is calm and tame Violence is a force that is intended to hurt, damage, or **** And from where I Stand there is Nothing- Nothing Domestic about Violence Knowing these Facts It makes me afraid I am afraid to be a Lover To be a Mother Because when I look at my past When I look at my past I am afraid it will repeat I am afraid I’ll choose a man Who beats me with an aluminum baseball bat Like my own mother did When I look at my past I am afraid it will repeat I am afraid A man will choose me And I’ll abuse him with my words And he’ll take it Like my father does When I look at my past I am terrified it will repeat I am terrified My children will look for an escape Like the five million children do Like I do
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90
I'm trying to find solace in anything. Anything. But I realize I'm angrier than before. I stand in the shower for 30 minutes and just seethe in anger. Anger at God. Anger at my mom. Anger at my dad. Anger at my sister. Anger at the guy who hit my brother. Anger at my boyfriend. Anger at me. Anger at my brother. Sometimes I wish I could just scream in there, But I know my parents would probably freak out. Maybe even bust the door open and see me in all my glory. That'd be embarrassing. I feel like I hate everyone. But I also can't be mean to anyone. I feel bad when I get mad at my boyfriend. But **** sometimes he makes me wanna beat the **** out of him. And then sometimes I just wanna pounce on him. All these emotions got me ****** up. I'm over here reminiscing old memories of my brother hoping for some sort of solace. But I end up in tears just wishing the good Lord would just take me. And I know its selfish but in this kind of moment, you only think of the pain now. I can't see my future anymore. The man I love doubt's me all the time and he has good reason to. I don't know where I'm heading. And it breaks my heart that he does. But oh well. I couldn't even convince my own brother to stay in the end either. So much for solace.
0
Jan 8, 2015
Jan 8, 2015 at 8:12 PM UTC
solace
My conscience That has been there Since I was four Making sure That I wasn't in trouble She is string She holds me together She is a storm Starts chaos She is a two sided coin Long, straight brown hair Chocolate eyes Freckles cover her face Extremely tall She is string She holds me together She is a storm Starts chaos She is a two sided coin Shy, but outgoing Depending on who's around Impossible to stay mad at Makes bad choices From time to time She is string She holds me together She is a storm Starts chaos She is a two sided coin Silent treatments Loud fights Best Friends She is string She holds me together She is a storm Starts chaos She is a two sided coin She is a rock She is string She holds things together She calms the sea Or starts a storm She is string She holds me together She is a storm Starts chaos She is a two sided coin Embarrassing moments Weird looks Always crazy She gets through the bad things Helps start the good She is string She holds me together She is a storm Starts chaos She is a two sided coin Puzzles, swim team Life changing Life calming Starts Chaos She is string She holds me together She is a storm Starts chaos She is a two sided coin Two sides Same coin Same person Different personalities Quiet in public Crazy in not She is string She holds me together She is a storm Starts chaos She is a two sided coin Keeps things going She is a bank A bank of secrets She keeps the vault Locked She is string She holds me together She is a storm Starts chaos She is a two sided coin She is like a storm And the calm before it Chaos and control She is string She holds me together She is a storm Starts chaos She is a two sided coin Listens to music Like the rest of the world But yet, doesn't conform At least not completely She is string She holds me together She is a storm Starts chaos She is a two sided coin Easily molded But not easily shaped She is not always there Yet she is She is string She holds me together She is a storm Starts chaos She is a two sided coin She taught me That I Didn't have To be Completely Alone
0
Jul 9, 2013
Jul 9, 2013 at 2:29 PM UTC
A Similar Antonym
My conscience That has been there Since I was four Making sure That I wasn't in trouble She is string She holds me together She is a storm Starts chaos She is a two sided coin Long, straight brown hair Chocolate eyes Freckles cover her face Extremely tall She is string She holds me together She is a storm Starts chaos She is a two sided coin Shy, but outgoing Depending on who's around Impossible to stay mad at Makes bad choices From time to time She is string She holds me together She is a storm Starts chaos She is a two sided coin Silent treatments Loud fights Best Friends She is string She holds me together She is a storm Starts chaos She is a two sided coin She is a rock She is string She holds things together She calms the sea Or starts a storm She is string She holds me together She is a storm Starts chaos She is a two sided coin Embarrassing moments Weird looks Always crazy She gets through the bad things Helps start the good She is string She holds me together She is a storm Starts chaos She is a two sided coin Puzzles, swim team Life changing Life calming Starts Chaos She is string She holds me together She is a storm Starts chaos She is a two sided coin Two sides Same coin Same person Different personalities Quiet in public Crazy in not She is string She holds me together She is a storm Starts chaos She is a two sided coin Keeps things going She is a bank A bank of secrets She keeps the vault Locked She is string She holds me together She is a storm Starts chaos She is a two sided coin She is like a storm And the calm before it Chaos and control She is string She holds me together She is a storm Starts chaos She is a two sided coin Listens to music Like the rest of the world But yet, doesn't conform At least not completely She is string She holds me together She is a storm Starts chaos She is a two sided coin Easily molded But not easily shaped She is not always there Yet she is She is string She holds me together She is a storm Starts chaos She is a two sided coin She taught me That I Didn't have To be Completely Alone
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119
He doesn't text you just to show he's into you, Won't get you a drink when he wants to get it going, And he definitely will not dress to impress. - or play those silly little games The games you can only score when you send a gift, A goodnight/goodmorning message, Or if he will stay up all night talking to you. Instead, He will call you to let you know about the cat that just crossed the street, Message you the newest set of stickers he downloaded, Take millions of embarrassing photos of you while eating, And shows up outside your house to pick you up. He is not the typical guy; He is not the one to do things because he wants to ***** you. - He is the guy who makes you happy. The guy who is being real with you, The one who wants you for you, And not how hot or how pretty you are.
0
Jun 25, 2015
Jun 25, 2015 at 1:56 AM UTC
Not Your Average Guy