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"grownups" poems
when the milk light steals into my eyes—hey it’s grownups’ goodmorning —I let your elbow go and then I pull it back again, soft metonymy (i sometimes remember when you’re awake, and abashed I keep it quiet how you’re my favorite part —of what?—not applicable, but this morning I remember when your eyes are closed, and I let you feel how much I feel you in my ribs when you’re all around me) the punctuation of the days was always mine and I couldn’t breathe as well without keeping the dark for me just me and still my eyelids weigh me down a little but I don’t mind hey goodmorning
0
Oct 22, 2013
Oct 22, 2013 at 9:20 AM UTC
goodmorning
the child of the child of my woman, cries in the night, rooming next door, down the hall and he is all children that cry in the night, but he is more mine by right of quantity numerous are the kisses lavished, this biannual visit upon, his four year old oversized head, (so full of 'bains') his undersized, protuberanced belly body, a combo making him no longer baby, nor a grownup, both states, he denies accurately, maturely in a wobbly voice of utter certainty, but lacking the adjectives of what lies between, he debates his state thoughtfully, until distracted by other more pressing matters of state he is boy, little but vociferous, quiet, pensive, his head a weapon of...confusion and certainty that being four years old, he must perforce be permanently in skeptical awe of the world this is the best position ever, he has ascertained, to filter and behold anything, whatever newness arrives, which is constant, streaming and unending until new is fully digested, analyzed, and classified, as if he were a zoologist in a wild and untamed land only certain of what he knows with perfect certainty, he consults with me still, "you kidding?" such a sophisticated analytic interrogatory, wise in the ways of grownups, who, prone to deceive gleefully his very suspecting mind, so much so, they must be challenged and rebuffed all too frequently he cries in the night, normal tears of discomfort, physical or mental, I cannot tell, for his father his parental hearing more practiced, refined, has preceded me, such, as it should be, and I am dispatched back to my 3:00am bed, left only to ink contemplative ruminations on the state and nation of being four... and sixty, and still uncertain, even more than the little boy of wizened age of annualized four, the child of the child of my woman, on what is real, what is kidding, in a quest unending to better ascertain, the state of my own being and the transitory nature of everything all of what is thought certain, falls aside, under the withering, unwavering, critique of "you kidding?" and in this we are more kin than if our blood was physically shared
0
Nov 29, 2014
Nov 29, 2014 at 4:24 AM UTC
On Being Four Years Old
the child of the child of my woman, cries in the night, rooming next door, down the hall and he is all children that cry in the night, but he is more mine by right of quantity numerous are the kisses lavished, this biannual visit upon, his four year old oversized head, (so full of 'bains') his undersized, protuberanced belly body, a combo making him no longer baby, nor a grownup, both states, he denies accurately, maturely in a wobbly voice of utter certainty, but lacking the adjectives of what lies between, he debates his state thoughtfully, until distracted by other more pressing matters of state he is boy, little but vociferous, quiet, pensive, his head a weapon of...confusion and certainty that being four years old, he must perforce be permanently in skeptical awe of the world this is the best position ever, he has ascertained, to filter and behold anything, whatever newness arrives, which is constant, streaming and unending until new is fully digested, analyzed, and classified, as if he were a zoologist in a wild and untamed land only certain of what he knows with perfect certainty, he consults with me still, "you kidding?" such a sophisticated analytic interrogatory, wise in the ways of grownups, who, prone to deceive gleefully his very suspecting mind, so much so, they must be challenged and rebuffed all too frequently he cries in the night, normal tears of discomfort, physical or mental, I cannot tell, for his father his parental hearing more practiced, refined, has preceded me, such, as it should be, and I am dispatched back to my 3:00am bed, left only to ink contemplative ruminations on the state and nation of being four... and sixty, and still uncertain, even more than the little boy of wizened age of annualized four, the child of the child of my woman, on what is real, what is kidding, in a quest unending to better ascertain, the state of my own being and the transitory nature of everything all of what is thought certain, falls aside, under the withering, unwavering, critique of "you kidding?" and in this we are more kin than if our blood was physically shared
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97
Cold beer, a long necked bottle held to my forehead and in my throat, to my lips, so relief comes both ways, glad for it, the double of the cool, helps the day of troubled nothingness, and the long necked bottle makes it worth the extra second of anticipated tasty wait can't drink in the river park, don't cotton to brown paper bags, do it anyway cause the East River tides me over on its way thru the Verrazano Narrows, bound for the Atlantic with me low rider spirit in tow, a devil may care attitude en contrôle this troubadour opened the store at 700am but not a one came looking for a song, but the mail came reliable, with dues due, promises that need keeping, and other items, what the grownups call responsibilities June Monday early eve and the Moran tugboats ply their trade like reliable ****** to the sailors, and their larger than bathtub size toys, turning containers, freighters, into docile boys who do as they are told on their way to ports far there are stick figures outlined on the hexagon paving stones that are so nyc for me, here pedestrian! follow your designated path here pedestrian, you must walk to be safe arrived but I take to the railing, where  Isaac-bound and mesmerized, I imagine surfing the churning wakes on the surface of the riveting tides and wonderous wanderlust for where we are bound... no voice heard from the heavens, saying Abraham put down that knife, because I have not passed the test of true belief, perhaps the river's invitation is my test, if I should sing another song here, perhaps it will tale the end of this tell...
0
Jun 16, 2014
Jun 16, 2014 at 7:24 PM UTC
By the East River, a Cold Beer, on My Forehead...
Cold beer, a long necked bottle held to my forehead and in my throat, to my lips, so relief comes both ways, glad for it, the double of the cool, helps the day of troubled nothingness, and the long necked bottle makes it worth the extra second of anticipated tasty wait can't drink in the river park, don't cotton to brown paper bags, do it anyway cause the East River tides me over on its way thru the Verrazano Narrows, bound for the Atlantic with me low rider spirit in tow, a devil may care attitude en contrôle this troubadour opened the store at 700am but not a one came looking for a song, but the mail came reliable, with dues due, promises that need keeping, and other items, what the grownups call responsibilities June Monday early eve and the Moran tugboats ply their trade like reliable ****** to the sailors, and their larger than bathtub size toys, turning containers, freighters, into docile boys who do as they are told on their way to ports far there are stick figures outlined on the hexagon paving stones that are so nyc for me, here pedestrian! follow your designated path here pedestrian, you must walk to be safe arrived but I take to the railing, where  Isaac-bound and mesmerized, I imagine surfing the churning wakes on the surface of the riveting tides and wonderous wanderlust for where we are bound... no voice heard from the heavens, saying Abraham put down that knife, because I have not passed the test of true belief, perhaps the river's invitation is my test, if I should sing another song here, perhaps it will tale the end of this tell...
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44
I'm restless like a low-class little nothing. Or a something. Or something, I don’t know. I tried to run away when I was twelve. I kicked puddles, ate a package of crackers, came home. I wish I could come home now. But he doesn’t kick puddles, he kicks the stairs loudly when he’s drunk and can’t walk up. He stains the mattress when he ****** the bed. He calls me from the gas station at 4 am saying “I love you baby, come pick me up.” And I shouldn’t, but I will. Will I? I will. And I really want to come home now, I miss the comfort of my warm bed and your soothing hands and would you make me tea when I am sick? I know I’m older, but let’s please forget. He fights and get cuts and scrapes and scabs and bleeds them onto me and I don’t think it’s gross. I think it’s gross when he tries to make love to me. and it hurts. We are not one, we are two. Making love, the term makes me laugh. It’s called ******* I think. It’s not like in the stories or the movies or the fantasies, ******* But this is what grownups do, right? Smoke cigarettes on street corners and don’t use condoms and eat ecstasy like aspirin and sweat and dance and collapse and come home and cry. Because they used to be the good girls, right? Was I a good one? Oh, no, I really want to come home now. Plane tickets are gold and he is too afraid to fly and too afraid to let go of my arm. The bruises are okay, I like the shape they make. It reminds me of a horror movie. I used to not be able to watch them, I was too young. You won’t be able to sleep, you’d say. But I can’t sleep now and I think I might still be too young. I want to come home now, can I please?
0
Dec 7, 2014
Dec 7, 2014 at 7:38 PM UTC
Home
I'm restless like a low-class little nothing. Or a something. Or something, I don’t know. I tried to run away when I was twelve. I kicked puddles, ate a package of crackers, came home. I wish I could come home now. But he doesn’t kick puddles, he kicks the stairs loudly when he’s drunk and can’t walk up. He stains the mattress when he ****** the bed. He calls me from the gas station at 4 am saying “I love you baby, come pick me up.” And I shouldn’t, but I will. Will I? I will. And I really want to come home now, I miss the comfort of my warm bed and your soothing hands and would you make me tea when I am sick? I know I’m older, but let’s please forget. He fights and get cuts and scrapes and scabs and bleeds them onto me and I don’t think it’s gross. I think it’s gross when he tries to make love to me. and it hurts. We are not one, we are two. Making love, the term makes me laugh. It’s called ******* I think. It’s not like in the stories or the movies or the fantasies, ******* But this is what grownups do, right? Smoke cigarettes on street corners and don’t use condoms and eat ecstasy like aspirin and sweat and dance and collapse and come home and cry. Because they used to be the good girls, right? Was I a good one? Oh, no, I really want to come home now. Plane tickets are gold and he is too afraid to fly and too afraid to let go of my arm. The bruises are okay, I like the shape they make. It reminds me of a horror movie. I used to not be able to watch them, I was too young. You won’t be able to sleep, you’d say. But I can’t sleep now and I think I might still be too young. I want to come home now, can I please?
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1
Aaj ke bacchon mein hi nahin, Apitu badon mein bhi sanskār, Naammatr ke bach gaye hain. Not only in children of the day, But even the grownups lack it, Ettiquette is just for namesake. Andar se wo aadar bhaav gūm, Aur haan gūm hai satkaar bhi, Badon ke liye sammān gūm hai. That feeling of respecting is lost, And indeed is lost that hospitality, Elderly are no longer given the place.
0
Sep 23, 2016
Sep 23, 2016 at 11:14 PM UTC
Sanskār Nãm Ki Cheez|That Namesake Ettiquette
Growing up is hard to do that's why when I was 12 years old I said I would never do it because it is full of heartache and hatred, trouble and lies, what is the point of leading such an unfulfilled life? Now at only 17, I am being catapulted into a world full of life long choices, where one wrong move- one stupid mistake- can ruin my existence. Yet I have so much resistance because I cling to this notion that i will never grow old. Responsibility is for grownups I would shout then...and even now... but the difference is, today I am going to take 5 standardized tests in 2 weeks and visiting a big brick building that will feed my mind and prepare me for "life"... as if I am not already alive. What is "the real world"? Is it not what I have been going through since birth? Why does reality only hit when you're 18 and starving for attention? Silly me, I was under the impression that I am a human being, going through experiences and learning lessons that will fill my soul. but that’s not true after all; I will only be useful when I have a successful career and child at my hip. **** these rules of society. I am a human, a person, an adult. But not because I chose to be one, I was forced into this role that has deteriorated my mind and thrown me into raging fits of anxiety and depression. Yes, high school has been the greatest years of my life... if by "great" you mean emotionally damaging.
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Jan 28, 2015
Jan 28, 2015 at 2:51 PM UTC
Growing Up: A Rant
When grownups say "There is no such thing as magic" They have forgotten some Mighty important things Like A Ben & Jerry's Chocolate Fudge Brownie That you share with friends Or moments of awe Or a moment of zen Or kissing a girl (Even though she got cooties) And then she smiles And giggles As she kisses you back
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Jul 24, 2015
Jul 24, 2015 at 8:52 AM UTC
Interview with nine year old me
near three years, nearer to eclipses, since last scribed here, been there been loved, mistreated, done my share of giving beatings, for the deserving, never been any body’s ****** no starting now=ever. men look at me, their eyes self-seducing, a crook(ed) finger never summoned me or any self respecting woman of valor, with a full fist of words, a tongue sharper than a deli slicer, if looks can **** then left my fair share of men on the Riviera, the Hamptons, the Gold Coast, uptown and way downtown where the cool kids pretend play @ being prey hunting grownups. ya, hear your thinking and it’s stinking, my generated magno-electric vibes that’s to blame, get this kids! never your fault being whom you the actual F are, it’s their filters that ***** their vision, their desires unbidden, casual dispensed, thinking glory is theirs to share. my road is not broken, there are signs even I spot, when the man I crave is nearby, whose calm is not couched cool, who doesn’t wear his possessions on his sleeve, one who says adventure, yes, let’s go, never saying when, for the only when is what both crave, the loving of immediacy of “right now,” and add to that pithy, my name, Brandy, acknowledging it’s me, just me, he addresses and not some vision that was crafted by others into an ideal,  and ‘because’ is not sufficient but the perfect rationale, to trust what your absent father called your *“finely tuned instincts for human finery, humans who eclipse ordinary stars*”
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Jul 15, 2023
Jul 15, 2023 at 7:57 AM UTC
near three years: finely tuned instincts for human finery, humans who eclipse ordinary stars
near three years, nearer to eclipses, since last scribed here, been there been loved, mistreated, done my share of giving beatings, for the deserving, never been any body’s ****** no starting now=ever. men look at me, their eyes self-seducing, a crook(ed) finger never summoned me or any self respecting woman of valor, with a full fist of words, a tongue sharper than a deli slicer, if looks can **** then left my fair share of men on the Riviera, the Hamptons, the Gold Coast, uptown and way downtown where the cool kids pretend play @ being prey hunting grownups. ya, hear your thinking and it’s stinking, my generated magno-electric vibes that’s to blame, get this kids! never your fault being whom you the actual F are, it’s their filters that ***** their vision, their desires unbidden, casual dispensed, thinking glory is theirs to share. my road is not broken, there are signs even I spot, when the man I crave is nearby, whose calm is not couched cool, who doesn’t wear his possessions on his sleeve, one who says adventure, yes, let’s go, never saying when, for the only when is what both crave, the loving of immediacy of “right now,” and add to that pithy, my name, Brandy, acknowledging it’s me, just me, he addresses and not some vision that was crafted by others into an ideal,  and ‘because’ is not sufficient but the perfect rationale, to trust what your absent father called your *“finely tuned instincts for human finery, humans who eclipse ordinary stars*”
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33
We are grown ups Full grown *** adults Making out in the front seat of your car at the edge of a crowded parking lot in front of a high school where mothers are picking up their daughters from their first homecoming dance You know, like grownups do But that’s not really what we are Not here, not all day Today we’ve been movie characters We’ve been comic strip accidents We’ve been fairy tale destinies   The clock is striking midnight soon This fidgeter’s bracelet still doesn’t fit over these fat fingers Come morning you’ll be back in the castle Where princesses belong Stupid fairy god mothers always ******* up a perfectly good nursery rhyme
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Oct 11, 2015
Oct 11, 2015 at 7:19 PM UTC
Grownups
the prophets and all the grownups were right when they said that 17 was a beautiful age. it is the age of falling in love, when we are still young enough to hang onto a thread but old enough to know better. 17 is being on the verge of entering into the dreaded age of responsibility, but wanting something more than what this youth permits. 17 is a transitional time, when the heart may know not its place but what it beats for. 17 is a strange time of learning and growing and being, and i suppose we will all always be who we were at seventeen.
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Jun 14, 2017
Jun 14, 2017 at 11:56 AM UTC
seventeen
a genuine smile is a very rare thing to come by there's the hello, i'm being polite smile, the fake smile you give grownups when they talk to you, the photograph smile, the smile you give a bad joke in order to avoid offending the teller, the awkward smile exchanged between two people who haven't crossed paths in a while, the phony smile put on only to convince the rest of the world that everything's okay, and many more smiles that seem almost like obligations but a real smile only comes from one thing that is, love and i can't feel it.
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Jun 5, 2014
Jun 5, 2014 at 4:59 PM UTC
the nature of a smile
your lips were stained red the first time you ever drank from a big girl’s cup you know the one without a lid and your mother was so proud when you still bathed with your little sister because you were young and it was okay she decided to taste the grape shampoo because it smelled so sweet and so it should taste the same and she was curious and so were you but she grimaced and choked and even cried so you thought that maybe it wasn't such a good idea so you didn't taste it and remember the time you scraped your knees because you were trying to be like all of the boys and so you climbed up the tree at the park just to prove that you weren't fragile and you didn't even cry not even a tear so they decided you must not have cooties you weren't like the other girls you were one of them and you were the exception you wore those scars with pride your lips were stained red the first time you tasted wine you were at communion with your best friend who called herself a bad catholic at the age of just thirteen when your sister was twelve and just learning about how smoking was bad for you she decided to steal a cigarette from your mother because all of the grownups did it and you were sixteen and curious because all of the cool kids did it and when she coughed and hacked and ****** in another drag you thought that maybe it wasn't such a good idea but you both did it anyways and remember that same year you wanted to impress all of the boys so you went to your first party and it was nothing like in the movies but you wanted to prove that you were like the other girls so you drank yourself into a haze and you slipped into one of the bedrooms with a faceless stranger and you didn't even cry but you wanted to
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Oct 14, 2013
Oct 14, 2013 at 1:56 AM UTC
your lips were stained red
your lips were stained red the first time you ever drank from a big girl’s cup you know the one without a lid and your mother was so proud when you still bathed with your little sister because you were young and it was okay she decided to taste the grape shampoo because it smelled so sweet and so it should taste the same and she was curious and so were you but she grimaced and choked and even cried so you thought that maybe it wasn't such a good idea so you didn't taste it and remember the time you scraped your knees because you were trying to be like all of the boys and so you climbed up the tree at the park just to prove that you weren't fragile and you didn't even cry not even a tear so they decided you must not have cooties you weren't like the other girls you were one of them and you were the exception you wore those scars with pride your lips were stained red the first time you tasted wine you were at communion with your best friend who called herself a bad catholic at the age of just thirteen when your sister was twelve and just learning about how smoking was bad for you she decided to steal a cigarette from your mother because all of the grownups did it and you were sixteen and curious because all of the cool kids did it and when she coughed and hacked and ****** in another drag you thought that maybe it wasn't such a good idea but you both did it anyways and remember that same year you wanted to impress all of the boys so you went to your first party and it was nothing like in the movies but you wanted to prove that you were like the other girls so you drank yourself into a haze and you slipped into one of the bedrooms with a faceless stranger and you didn't even cry but you wanted to
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60
Thanks for the meatballs ma' On a mission Be back soon Took a huge jump on my bike, not a moment too soon Got struck by lightning and bit by a raccoon Next thing I knew I'd taken to the sky Swept up in a bubble Passed the Hubble Made a wish As I streaked across the sky And landed on the moon Found the moondust powdery Heartbreakingly abandoned and alone Felt it caress the palm of my hand Smooth as purest silk Gave it love A home Made it a part of my fingerprint And as I did Sprang this wonderfully innocent music Harmonies of such clarity and void of lies Brought tears of sadness to my young eyes As I laid them on this blue marble that houses our skies Still bleeding itself dry Spinning faithfully on the blackboard of life Such grace This wonderfully complicated dance of life Never asked for anything in return Except maybe the answer to a burning question Why all this grownup warmongering? Why? When in the midst of all this hate and terror Every kid in the world is born With a natural instinct To play To laugh To explore And to celebrate The precious gift of their newborn life.
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Jul 18, 2015
Jul 18, 2015 at 7:41 AM UTC
Grownups are stupid
I am hereby officially tendering my resignation as an adult, in order to accept the responsibilities of a 6-year-old. The tax base is lower. I want to be six again. I want to go to McDonald's and think it's the best place in the world to eat. I want to sail sticks across a fresh mud puddle and make waves with rocks. I want to think M&Ms; are better than money, because you can eat them. I want to play kickball during recess and stay up on Christmas Eve waiting to hear Santa and Rudolph on the roof. I long for the days when life was simple. When all you knew were your colors, the addition tables and simple nursery rhymes, but it didn't bother you, because you didn't know what you didn't know, and you didn't care. I want to go to school and have snack time, recess, gym and field trips. I want to be happy, because I don't know what should make me upset. I want to think the world is fair and everyone in it is honest and good. I want to believe that anything is possible. Sometime, while I was maturing, I learned too much. I learned of nuclear weapons, prejudice, starving and abused kids, lies, unhappy marriages, illness, pain and mortality. I want to be six again. I want to think that everyone, including myself, will live forever, because I don't know the concept of death. I want to be oblivious to the complexity of life and be overly excited by the little things again. I want television to be something I watch for fun, not something used for escape from the things I should be doing. I want to live knowing the little things that I find exciting will always make me as happy as when I first learned them. I want to be six again. I remember not seeing the world as a whole, but rather being aware of only the things that directly concerned me. I want to be naive enough to think that if I'm happy, so is everyone else. I want to walk down the beach and think only of the sand beneath my feet and the possibility of finding that blue piece of sea glass I'm looking for. I want to spend my afternoons climbing trees and riding my bike, letting the grownups worry about time, the dentist and how to find the money to fix the car. I want to wonder what I'll do when I grow up and what I'll be, who I'll be and not worry about what I'll do if this doesn't work out. I want that time back. I want to use it now as an escape, so that when my computer crashes, or I have a mountain of paperwork, or two depressed friends, or a fight with my spouse, or bittersweet memories of times gone by, or second thoughts about so many things, I can travel back and build a snowman, without thinking about anything except whether the snow sticks together and what I can possibly use for the snowman's mouth. I want to be six again.
0
Jun 30, 2014
Jun 30, 2014 at 3:47 AM UTC
I Want To Be Six
I am hereby officially tendering my resignation as an adult, in order to accept the responsibilities of a 6-year-old. The tax base is lower. I want to be six again. I want to go to McDonald's and think it's the best place in the world to eat. I want to sail sticks across a fresh mud puddle and make waves with rocks. I want to think M&Ms; are better than money, because you can eat them. I want to play kickball during recess and stay up on Christmas Eve waiting to hear Santa and Rudolph on the roof. I long for the days when life was simple. When all you knew were your colors, the addition tables and simple nursery rhymes, but it didn't bother you, because you didn't know what you didn't know, and you didn't care. I want to go to school and have snack time, recess, gym and field trips. I want to be happy, because I don't know what should make me upset. I want to think the world is fair and everyone in it is honest and good. I want to believe that anything is possible. Sometime, while I was maturing, I learned too much. I learned of nuclear weapons, prejudice, starving and abused kids, lies, unhappy marriages, illness, pain and mortality. I want to be six again. I want to think that everyone, including myself, will live forever, because I don't know the concept of death. I want to be oblivious to the complexity of life and be overly excited by the little things again. I want television to be something I watch for fun, not something used for escape from the things I should be doing. I want to live knowing the little things that I find exciting will always make me as happy as when I first learned them. I want to be six again. I remember not seeing the world as a whole, but rather being aware of only the things that directly concerned me. I want to be naive enough to think that if I'm happy, so is everyone else. I want to walk down the beach and think only of the sand beneath my feet and the possibility of finding that blue piece of sea glass I'm looking for. I want to spend my afternoons climbing trees and riding my bike, letting the grownups worry about time, the dentist and how to find the money to fix the car. I want to wonder what I'll do when I grow up and what I'll be, who I'll be and not worry about what I'll do if this doesn't work out. I want that time back. I want to use it now as an escape, so that when my computer crashes, or I have a mountain of paperwork, or two depressed friends, or a fight with my spouse, or bittersweet memories of times gone by, or second thoughts about so many things, I can travel back and build a snowman, without thinking about anything except whether the snow sticks together and what I can possibly use for the snowman's mouth. I want to be six again.
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44
They grew up holding hands playing on the sand, But what the grownups warned they couldn’t understand. One day you will have to part when grown up by the sea, Nothing lasts forever, something’s are not meant to be. Never kiss on the lips while holding hands so tight, Maybe on the cheek, but never late at night. Then came the day while playing round the pools, She looked at him and whispered, let us forget about the rules. As their lips touched she remembered what her father used to say, “Never kiss an urchin my little mermaid, futures will depend”, “You are destined for the ocean not here with your friend”. “Just one kiss and you will lose your crown and thrown”, “While standing close together you'll slowly turn to stone”.
0
Jul 19, 2011
Jul 19, 2011 at 8:36 AM UTC
Kiss
Strange, strange, strange. When you young and especially a teenager. And all negative level at you. Teens this. Teens that. While many adults misses thee big picture. For the same things you get accused of by news and others. You find many adults doing them more. Texting and driving. What teen? Hadn't see many grownups break this rule? Especially law enforcers and politicians. But you a teenager. The pick on group. Research dwn through times. And you'll see various teens through the decades been torn apart. It's tough being a teenager. Just wait to you become an adult. And find that the problem of teenaging will remain the same. Adults needs a certain group to blame.
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Mar 16, 2016
Mar 16, 2016 at 11:09 AM UTC
Tough Being A Teenager
Patience never saw a baby that didn't eventually learn how to walk, how to talk. but I have seen, still do, children who became adults, but not grownups, still ******* their thumbs. don't blame the parents. don't blame the child. don't blame the idiotcreators, pseudo-educators. blame me. always take the easiest course when assigning blame. Yet cherish them tho oft they err, have we not all, stumbled and extended hand beseeching help? let us learn for they, my blood one and all, and I call them by one name, each and every, Mine. ------------------------ Hint: if you are thinking of taking your parents along for your ride, read this. Better yet, give it to them. "And she taught me that my children are not truly mine. They don’t belong to me; they’ve simply been entrusted to me. They are a gift life gave to me, but one that I must one day give back to life. They must grow up and go away and that is as it should be." Charles M. Blow
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Nov 10, 2013
Nov 10, 2013 at 5:32 AM UTC
Patience (all children learn to walk)
sensual subtlety or the subtlety of sensuality (HOW does size matter?) <•> *as always the title comes first, embalming the mind so it may voyage onto unwritten waters, over boundaries so the provocateur provoked may safely return, avoiding evoking anti-frieze cannonade fire some can disable with swinging fist, a chopping arm on an exposed neck, a swift kick to the semi-privates but I can do same, inflicting immobilization with a single solitary itty bitty pinky figuring finger no random boast, no hoax, not chest beating, just a fact ma’am, nothing but the facts the sensual subtlety of the delicate is overpowering and irresistible making grownups revert into laughing crying out loud babies the subtlety of sensuality pink’d exploding exploration, the intoxicating tiny tingling subtle and without equal, kingdoms have fallen, paintings and poems, art all kinds, instigated and in eye sockets permanently inserted, history redirected know I will no be telling details, the whose and where, the why and surely not the how, not here anyway so when you tell me in raw fashion size matters most definitely in the matters of the heart or the physicality whole heartedly agree waving my littlest pinky finger watching you wavering until you’ve learned the lesson it’s the how* not the how big
0
May 5, 2018
May 5, 2018 at 4:09 PM UTC
HOW does size matter?
a genuine photograph taken by a relation, of Wonder Woman commandeering a Manhattan avenue by aft. daylight, leading children of the neighborhood and their guardian angels, the NYPD, in a rousing calisthenics warmup routine, for it’s the day of witches, goblins, masquerading, and pre-internet, nice, sweet trolls no older than six years of age, Wonder Woman too, the rigors of an evening of search and recovery, collecting the well gotten treasure ***** found by early dusk’s s l o w l y disappearing light, amidst stunned, aimless wandering adults and miscellaneous grownups, All wonting & wondering: is innocence still a thing?
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Jan 17, 2024
Jan 17, 2024 at 1:03 PM UTC
In my possess, innocence (trolls & *****
In the ill-lit room singed with ovens’ heat Swift hands deftly turn wheat ***** sweet The air exudes a smell of pulpy soft taste Blended with the odd fragrance of sweat! Here reigns under the tin shed eternal night As if by some design is forbidden daylight Roll out confectionaries crisp and light To fill the mouths with salivary delight! Bread, cake, cookie and cherry bun Kneading them in the heat is no fun The bakers’ faces glow warm and red Faster they must go before they rest their head! The delicious stuff are relished by kids and grownups They savor the flavor with their hot morning cups Do they ever pause or give it a thought How those laboring bodies in the heat rot!
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Apr 20, 2013
Apr 20, 2013 at 4:31 AM UTC
Bakers
3am....boom! Door slams, feet pounding on stairs. 4am....boom! My household remains asleep, Only me and my cares. They come in all colors, different flavors, unique fears, No status quo, different walks, All sorts of careers The business owners, The urban campers, The highschool dropouts, Grownups still in Pampers. Theres even the alumni, with their bumper sticker, All taking a medicine, that only makes them sicker. All the while, the thoughts harbored within- Makes me think, this wall we share, may as well be paper thin. I smell the smell, Made a call with a cell, No help from the ones dressed in blue Just me and myself, seeing it through. The war is mine, The battles they own, Let it end, before this wall we share, Becomes their gravestone
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Oct 5, 2019
Oct 5, 2019 at 9:26 AM UTC
Sharing walls with Tweakers
my pre -Christmas poem for 2014 Christmas Teachings Making out my list while sitting in my room Thanksgiving is almost here and Christmas will follow soon. Thinking about the decorations that I plan on putting out Because decorating for Christmas is what I’m all about. I love to see the children s smiles and hear their comments too Of what they’re wishing for Christmas and what they plan to do. Most are dreaming of bicycles and toys of every kind While the parents are keeping track and watching every dime. We were once those same children who waited patiently To see what Santa would put underneath our Christmas tree. To children – Christmas is of toys and being out of school Yet they’re not being taught how Christmas came to be Of how a child called JESUS CHRIST set mankind free. If they was to take CHRIST out of Christmas There would be no holiday and children would have no gifts Or toys with which to play. The birth of CHRIST is the reason we celebrate this day The reason children get toys and the grownups kneel to pray. He was born in a manger in a bed made of hay when the three kings came They all knelt down to pray. He was born the king of kings of that there is no doubt He showed the world Love and Peace and that’s What Christmas is about? Love one another and share the Christmas joy This is what we were taught by this little boy. © LRAMS I
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Nov 12, 2014
Nov 12, 2014 at 12:22 PM UTC
CHRISTMAS TEACHINGS
There she sat, on the slide looking for a place to hide an adult among children at play yet a child around grownups she'd stay. She felt very often sad and most of the time just mad at the world and everyone she couldn't remember when happiness had gone. She wanted to do so much conquer the world and such her diary full of imagination searching for some sort of salvation. Confused and scared around boys they were mainly just a lot of noise a refuge in books she would find allowing her to leave the world behind. There she sat on the slide Remembering the tears she'd cried when she was just a young girl trying hard to find her whirl
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Jan 17, 2010
Jan 17, 2010 at 2:27 AM UTC
There she sat
Dear 2020, I don’t really know why I’m writing to you today. Technically, I could talk to many different people. There’s Mom, Bonnie, and the internet suicide chats. Honestly, I don’t think any of them would understand what I would say, though. Mom is best at hugs, Bonnie likes to tell me to read papers, and I don’t think the internet suicide chat is right for me, because they wouldn’t be able to fix me. So I thought, if its okay, then I would talk to you again. If you listen to the song on Youtube called Her Last Words, then you might notice how similar that song is to these letters. That's because I like thinking that when I die- No. I just thought, The people who love me will find and read these, but that's a lie, isn’t it? Because if I really thought people loved me, I wouldn’t be here writing to you about my own suicide. So no. If I **** myself, I will probably just upload all of these letters onto Hello Poetry. I’m just feeling really down. Nothing is working out for me, as usual. I don't hate anything anymore. I’m just really, really tired. And I don’t want to be here anymore. But unlike school, and people, and nature, I can’t escape my mind and this world. No matter how much I want to. I’m trapped here. I can never escape unless I die. And as much as I want to, I can’t. I never want to leave my room. I don’t care if I starve here, I have water and would finally be skinny, right? I never want to leave my room. I never want to go to the doctor, take my medicine, see anyone in person. Because I’m actually sick of people, as much as they scare me. I can just text them, or whatever. People always like me better over text anyways. And I’m so sick of these doctors and grownups trying to fix me. Have you ever thought that maybe I’d rather just die myself, then live on as some drugged-happy maniac, some distorted version of me? But, I mean, who the **** am I anyway? I’m not even dead yet and everyone has already forgotten me. Even myself. And I’m falling apart piece by piece. I feel like at any second, I could simply fall apart at the seams and tumble onto the ground. I wish I would die. I wish I would die. I wish I would die. I wish I would die. I wish I would die. I wish I would die. I wish I would die. I wish I would die. I wish I would die. I wish I would die. I realized I’m not even writing to the receiver of this letter. I’m not really writing to myself in 2020, am I? No, I’m writing to absolutely no one, and hoping that someone will read this because I am dead. And this weekend, I’m not going to be able to be who Machaela wants me to be, am I? I’m just going to a pre-skeleton, sitting there quietly, thinking of all the wrong things, saying too little, and feeling too much. I’m sorry, I don’t really know why I started writing this letter to you. It’s been completely pointless, and I don’t really have anything to say. I’ve had to talk to so many people, saying the same things so often that I have completely run out of anything new or interesting or surprising. I don’t want to be with others, I want someone. But I Don’t want to be alone, I want to be by myself. I want a hug, but I want a specifically perfect best-friend, one who’s always there for me and would have no idea what to do if I was gone, to be the one to hug me. I really wish I could die. I really Really Really Really Really Really Really Wish I could die. Sincerely, H. R. S.
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May 9, 2018
May 9, 2018 at 7:47 PM UTC
Dear 2020 (5)
Dear 2020, I don’t really know why I’m writing to you today. Technically, I could talk to many different people. There’s Mom, Bonnie, and the internet suicide chats. Honestly, I don’t think any of them would understand what I would say, though. Mom is best at hugs, Bonnie likes to tell me to read papers, and I don’t think the internet suicide chat is right for me, because they wouldn’t be able to fix me. So I thought, if its okay, then I would talk to you again. If you listen to the song on Youtube called Her Last Words, then you might notice how similar that song is to these letters. That's because I like thinking that when I die- No. I just thought, The people who love me will find and read these, but that's a lie, isn’t it? Because if I really thought people loved me, I wouldn’t be here writing to you about my own suicide. So no. If I **** myself, I will probably just upload all of these letters onto Hello Poetry. I’m just feeling really down. Nothing is working out for me, as usual. I don't hate anything anymore. I’m just really, really tired. And I don’t want to be here anymore. But unlike school, and people, and nature, I can’t escape my mind and this world. No matter how much I want to. I’m trapped here. I can never escape unless I die. And as much as I want to, I can’t. I never want to leave my room. I don’t care if I starve here, I have water and would finally be skinny, right? I never want to leave my room. I never want to go to the doctor, take my medicine, see anyone in person. Because I’m actually sick of people, as much as they scare me. I can just text them, or whatever. People always like me better over text anyways. And I’m so sick of these doctors and grownups trying to fix me. Have you ever thought that maybe I’d rather just die myself, then live on as some drugged-happy maniac, some distorted version of me? But, I mean, who the **** am I anyway? I’m not even dead yet and everyone has already forgotten me. Even myself. And I’m falling apart piece by piece. I feel like at any second, I could simply fall apart at the seams and tumble onto the ground. I wish I would die. I wish I would die. I wish I would die. I wish I would die. I wish I would die. I wish I would die. I wish I would die. I wish I would die. I wish I would die. I wish I would die. I realized I’m not even writing to the receiver of this letter. I’m not really writing to myself in 2020, am I? No, I’m writing to absolutely no one, and hoping that someone will read this because I am dead. And this weekend, I’m not going to be able to be who Machaela wants me to be, am I? I’m just going to a pre-skeleton, sitting there quietly, thinking of all the wrong things, saying too little, and feeling too much. I’m sorry, I don’t really know why I started writing this letter to you. It’s been completely pointless, and I don’t really have anything to say. I’ve had to talk to so many people, saying the same things so often that I have completely run out of anything new or interesting or surprising. I don’t want to be with others, I want someone. But I Don’t want to be alone, I want to be by myself. I want a hug, but I want a specifically perfect best-friend, one who’s always there for me and would have no idea what to do if I was gone, to be the one to hug me. I really wish I could die. I really Really Really Really Really Really Really Wish I could die. Sincerely, H. R. S.
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