"homebody" poems
Don't discriminate
Just don't do it
All it is, is hate
Hate is made out of other hate
and hate only fuels more hatred
You pour gasoline on a blaze of loathing
with every discriminatory comment you make
It doesn't matter
if they have done something you believe is wrong
because you have done many things that are wrong too
it is not for you to judge
so black white brown both or polka dotted for all I care
gay les straight bi or into adhesive sloths (we adhesified furry little sloths need a little love too)
man or woman or sloth
punk emo crazy nerdy weird loser REALLY weird bookworm or literal worm sloth or adhesive sloths (like me)
nature freak or homebody
axe murderer or a cereal killer or a cheerio killer
it does not matter who or what they are
they are all human too. or all sloths. that too.
Just don't discriminate
and share the slothified love of adhesiveness
accept everyone as they are
even if they hang from trees and move in slow motion all day like me
even if they are rocks
because rocks are great
in fact this one time, I found this rock and man, it was absolutely hilarious it should have been a stand up comedian
okay well not a STAND UP comedian, because I mean... rocks can't actually stand up... but like a really hard and Sedimentary roundish stone shaped sit down (well more like lay around like a rock all day) comedian
Wait, what was I talking about?
oh right, don't discriminate!! :)
against other humans or other sloths.
or adhesive sloths.
...I'm not crazy! my mother sloth had me tested!
Nov 12, 2014
Nov 12, 2014 at 12:23 PM UTC
THE TORTURING VOICES
you see my dad was watching the cricket with us
and i watched it with him, and it was very fun, you see
we saw australia being beaten by the west indies, because
they were so cool, you see, we were the cricket boys
and no robber wanted to rob us, because we were into australia’s favourite sport, cricket
you see i heard a non realistic image of my father saying
brian’s not a mans kid, brian’s not a man’s kid
and i was trying to relax and calmly watch the match
and my family were unrealistically teasing me, mind you they were having fun
and the words they said were different to me as it was for them
brian’s not a mans kid, don’t get kidnapped brian be like us
brian’s not a man’s kid, and watched the cricket, ya know trevor chappell doing an underarm ball
mum called cricket, anything and everything which has everything you hate
well, i don’t believe that, i was feeling like trying to be a mans kid
brian’s not a mans kid, brian’s not a mans kid
and i was getting these awful visions, i wanted these voices to stop
you see people in canberra were doing it too, but they looked like fierce kidnappers
and i said you can’t get me, i am a sports watcher
so i went home and obsessingly watching the cricket and AFL and rugby league, rugby union
you name the sport i watched it, and i fell asleep in front of the sport
you see i have this vision that mens kids watch the sport, mens kids watch the sport
brian’s not a mans kid, **** off ya hooligan away from us
you see, i wanted at that stage a hooligan to my dad and i had someone grab me outside a club
and i kicked him saying, get off me ya kidnapper, you won’t get ya hands on me mate
and dad was watching the cricket and enjoyed it, but i got frustrated with all that teasing
i didn’t want to be kidnap victim and i hate being my families or friends little teasie
i battle voices saying how is our little tease doing hey
but i hated when people wanted to bully me, saying your family are like us, your not
i said i like sport and they said, no you don’t, your family does, and your not like your family mate, your like us now man
i told my voices to **** off, and they said, your not like your family, your like us
and this made me into a little 2 year old boy, i hated that voice
i remember i loved watching agro, which was a funny puppet on channel 7, and the mens kids said
don’t watch agro, watch cheezeTV, which was the cartoon show on the other channel
and my voices going crazy saying, you are a crazy person, who is too old for baby agro
and you are not like your family, your still like us, buddy
i screamed out, LEAVE ME ALONE, i am a sports watching mans kid
and dads image said brian’s not a mans kid, brian’s not a mans kid
but it could’ve been greame thrones kidnapper or patrick dunbars kidnapper
i said voices, ‘stop', i wanted to be like my family, they said you are not like your family, your still like us
and i said, they look cool, and you guys look stupid, please leave me alone
there is also a man who wanted me and my brother tied to a pole, but we felt we weren’t immortal, but cool
i went into pubs to dance and watch the sport and i felt like a cool man
brian’s not a mans kid brian’s not a mans kid, stay in there koomarri man, get ****** mate went the little homebody kid
as i was watching the canberra bushrangers baseball team played, yeah totally awesome dude
brian’s not a mans kid, I WISH IT’LL ALL STOP
Jun 25, 2015
Jun 25, 2015 at 2:38 AM UTC
What I say is that
I don't need friends because I'm
An introvert girl
And that's mostly true
But in all honesty, I'd
Like some companions
The full truth is that
I don't need friends who will joke
About mental health
I don't need friends who
Use ****** and ****** as
As ******* nicknames
I don't need friends who
Create drama and then say
That they hate it all
I don't need friends who
Will lie to me, and then go
Gossip about me
I don't need a circle
Of friends that gets so complex
It becomes a web
And to be honest
I've been, in the past, guilty
Of all of these things
But I don't need to
Deal with these things all the time
In a group of friends
I just want friends who
I can simultaneously
Be dumb and smart with
Friends whom I can be
Existential with, and yet
Prank other kids with
Friends whom I don't feel
The constant need to hide or
Be perfect around
Unfortunately
Those kinds of friends seem to be
In short supply here
So far I have three
And I only really see
Them three times a month
Call me a homebody
Say I'm antisocial, but
That's just how I feel
Oct 28, 2016
Oct 28, 2016 at 6:58 PM UTC
the first thing people would say upon our engagement is show me the ring like some bling is an ode of your love to me. i am not a homemaker i am a homebody. i excel in colombian coffee and monday night pub specials and cheap wine with expensive labels. i excel at being one of the guys and by being one of the guys i mean not being your wife. i filled the crevices you scraped in me like some kind of sculptor smoothing over past mistakes like being your wife was some kind of placebo pill i can sweat out with half-empty pizza boxes and grease stains on a couch that was never mine. when i first tell people about us about what i've done they say
but you two fit so well
but i liked you together
but you were going to get married
but but but
but they don't see your knuckles almost shaking hands with my jawline or the time i stared at you deadpan i'm not scared of you and i think that's what scared you that i'm no battered wife that i'll take you all bleed you dry then smile from the corner.
i am no battered wife like the woman who raised you
whose christmas-gifted blanket i'm currently curled under but whose 4 a.m. whispered words i cherish more he can't make you forget what you felt like your lies would forge me into the *bat **** crazy ***** you christened me but what i felt in your booze-stained breath amaretto-sweet words ice-diluted eyes was i am no battered wife
i am no laying next to you in bed at 30 with kids i couldn't convince myself to want and bruises that fit your fingers on my ribs. i'll take my tuesday tequila and too-loud laughs, my scrounging for quarters for just one more cup of coffee over your stability smirks.
Feb 25, 2017
Feb 25, 2017 at 5:41 PM UTC
There still are kindly things for me to know,
Who am afraid to dream, afraid to feel-
This little chair of scrubbed and sturdy deal,
This easy book, this fire, sedate and slow.
And I shall stay with them, nor cry the woe
Of wounds across my breast that do not heal;
Nor wish that Beauty drew a duller steel,
Since I am sworn to meet her as a foe.
It may be, when the devil's own time is done,
That I shall hear the dropping of the rain
At midnight, and lie quiet in my bed;
Or stretch and straighten to the yellow sun;
Or face the turning tree, and have no pain;
So shall I learn at last my heart is dead.
1.2k
This white has been beautiful.
Sometimes so much so that I would say
I have never seen anything so pristine.
The way it drifts down from the sky,
Coasting lightly down to the already snow-covered ground.
It might land upon the branch of a tree
Or possibly on a nearly covered bush.
And the way it deadens sound,
How it eliminates all the extraneous,
Adds to the aura of perfection.
But I'm ready to go home.
I have had enough.
I'm ready for all of the smog, traffic, congestion and sound,
And I'm ready for my ***** sand beaches.
Those cold, dark waters provide
Stark Contrast
To those endless slopes of the purest white.
But I am ready to go home.
I'm ready to go back where I belong.
Home.
Dec 21, 2012
Dec 21, 2012 at 3:11 AM UTC
You gave me more than I could ask
nurtured my physical form
an ultimate satisfaction
then fixated your all to my statue
It hurt when I walked away from you
My soul was dying and decaying
setting sadness for the man you became
a homebody with no life and adventure
You gave me your time and energy
when all I wanted is to see you fly
spread your wing and soar in skies above
I smile inside for who you have become
Unfixed but with a zest and passion
Take the skates and roll on the world
Flyboard on the open seas and oceans
sky dive and let the air fill your being
My pain of your suffering has vanished
It's furnished by the life you embrace
the fearless true gentleman in you
Life is for the free baby, live in the openness
Jun 26, 2016
Jun 26, 2016 at 8:06 PM UTC
I may not be all contented
but at least I can be alone
not roasted with my skin crackling by boredom
in the presence of a long-winded nerd who's cringing over enthusiasm brings out
the mildly grey abuse of power in me.
I curl up in the dark, alone.
But I will find contentment sometime within me.
Oct 31, 2013
Oct 31, 2013 at 9:06 PM UTC
I feel like a homebody,
I feel homesick, and my home is your body,
I can't find my way through your cracks, only feel alive when I feel scratches on my back, stuck in an empty lover's bed sheets, only feel lonely when I'm not laying next to a warm body, mind muddy, cloudy hellish sense of relevance only when I'm being kissed on the neck, now tell me, where can I find any ******* sense
In my head everywhere in every bed I lay in, I'm a misfit, just wanna be missed,
Happiness is fake and love is like the internet
Click, click, error 404, cannot find page, deep breath, refresh, error 404,
4:04pm, alone again, thinking about skipping dinner to think about you again,
4:04am, alone again, thinking about skipping sleep to watch the sunrise because heaven knows it's the only warmth this body still knows how to feel,
4:04 someone, somewhere,
404 empty bottles,
404 long car rides lighting up the highway with either a lighter or headlights,
I gotta ****** go,
I gotta run away as far as possible,
I don't know what I'm running from, but I'm running still
I have grown to actively avoid absolutely everything,
Don't look at me,
Don't talk to me,
The only words I know how to listen to are **** and hate,
I've given away everything, even the smile on my face,
Gifted pieces of my heart with ribbons and flowers and tried to cover the holes with duct tape,
I've tried everything besides personal space because I'm scared of being alone for too long and I don't wanna look at myself in the face
I feel homesick, and my home is your body,
I don't wanna do this anymore, I don't wanna do this anymore,
You're not my home anymore,
But I don't know how to run away from you
Click, click, error 404, cannot find page,
Deep breath, refresh, error, ****
My homepage is always frozen
Sep 30, 2017
Sep 30, 2017 at 1:19 AM UTC
people pleaser
sugar addict
adventure seeker
nature freak
homebody in training
trying to find inner happiness
because depending on others for happiness is bs
currently lost in life
no place to go
nothing to do
trying to make everyone else happy
yet internally [depressed]
not worthless
simply out of place, a mismatched outfit
Aug 7, 2013
Aug 7, 2013 at 11:39 PM UTC
The love of my life
Is a simpleton
Lagging behind
The timeline of life
Late in acquiring ownership of tangibles
And other worldly nonsense
Society deems necessary
Making him feel inadequate
A late bloomer
With a heart riddled with regret
And hands that carry the burdens
Of his forefathers
He is a knowledgeable man
Of a quarter of a century old
Humour pours out of him
So much so it should be unlawful
He is a composer of melodies
A metal head of sorts
A homebody with an affinity for alcohol
A lanky physique
That adds to his appeal
Pale brown eyes
That glisten multicoloured hues
In the light of day
Darkening blonde hair
Coffee stained teeth
A sincere smile that warms your heart
And the most exquisite nose I have ever seen
He tucks away his bloodied
Bruised heart
Always guarded
Masking his true nature
So he can be “that” guy
The noble one
He belongs to no one
Someday, soon.. he will
I dread the arrival of that day
For he will never be mine
To worship
Jan 24, 2014
Jan 24, 2014 at 5:58 PM UTC
Amber was an atheist,
she thought the world was dumb as hell.
Britney was a botanist,
who had a fertilizer smell.
Candice was a coroner,
a scary passion for the stiffs.
Diana was a drummer chick,
that knew a few guitar riffs.
Evelyn was evil, man,
all leather suits and chains and whips.
Farrah was a therapist,
got in my brain with swinging hips.
Greta was a gunslinger,
she'd give most anything a shot.
Hannah was a homebody-
shy as hell, but twice as hot.
Iris was an Ivy Leaguer,
thought I was a total fool.
Janice was a juggler,
who liked to play with power tools.
Kimmy taught karate,
who dated me just for the kicks.
Louise was a lyricist,
who wrote about how guys were *****
Marilyn was mostly mean,
she liked to fight and then make up.
Nancy was so negative,
I had no choice but to break up.
Opal was an occultist,
who liked to gossip with the dead.
Paula was a **********
that made me pay to come to bed.
Queenie was inquisitive,
the questions were too much to bear.
Rosie was a recluse
who never shaved or brushed her hair.
Sidney was a sinful sort,
with toys and gadgets 'neath the bed.
Tina was a twisted chick,
with thirteen voices in her head.
Ursula was uber-cool,
always on the latest trends.
Vicky was on Vicodin,
and we all know how that one ends.
Wanda was a wanderer,
that left to join a circus troupe.
Xena the exhibitionist
liked to do it on the stoop.
Yolanda was young and fine,
and nearly cost me everything.
Zoey was a Zombie fan,
she got hot when he would sing.
I'd like to say I've settled down,
but since the alphabet is done,
I'm gonna met an Ann or Anita,
and give it all another run.
Aug 27, 2016
Aug 27, 2016 at 5:19 AM UTC
i am not a rich **** i am a home body
i don’t want to be a street kid, cause i am a homebody
i don’t want to be a bigger anything, i am a homebody
i ain’t an old fogie, i am a homebody
i don’t want to get teased, just because i like staying home, because i am a homebody
i don’t want to get killed on the street, cause i am a homebody
i don’t want to get evicted from my flat, because i am a homebody
i don’t want to be treated like a homeless person, cause i am a homebody
i still want to help homeless people get a good life, cause i am a nice home body
i don’t want to holiday in the YWCA, i prefer a 5 star hotel, like a homebody
i don’t want to carry my belongings to the sports events
i leave it at the hotel like a homebody
i am not a hooligan, i am a homebody
i don’t want to be treated like a christian, because i say am a homebody
i am a buddhist homebody, i really likes to PARTY
i want to respect my neighbours, though, cause i am a homebody
i still want to go to the poetry slam and have fun, but i am a homebody
i want to go to the carols by candlelight, just like a homebody does
taking a picnic lunch, just like a homebody does
i am planning my holidays, like a homebody
it’s hard, but it doesn’t bother me, cause i need money, like a homebody does
i do my art and be creative, like a homebody
i write my stories, like a homebody
homebody home body 1 2 3
i am a homebody can’t you see
i don’t believe in being horrible to the homeless
cause i am a nice home body, can’t you see
i am a homebody, and proud of it, i am a cool homebody
Aug 16, 2015
Aug 16, 2015 at 10:37 PM UTC
So I've been a little hermit lately. Kind of a homebody. Sociophobic.
I have been missing you so much.
I remember we used to be attached at the hip, the soul. Our faces on underpasses.
We had all we could do. It was only you.
Now you act almost like we're different. You act like we just passed each other by.
My acquaintance.
I remember how you smell. Exactly how you smell.
I can never look at a person who shares your name and think of them
"The Usual Way,"
How I Am Supposed To Look At Them.
How I Am Supposed To Look At You.
You don't understand my anguish anymore, do you?
I guess not, but I forgive you. Your life is big, too.
But avoiding the truth won't make it untrue.
We may be young but we've both lost our youth.
This trend is not old, this love is not new.
I miss you. I hate to repeat myself, but...
I really do.
Do you still think of me, too?
I hope so.
Because these signals will never go out.
Those Everlasting moments
Memorized always.
Oct 23, 2012
Oct 23, 2012 at 11:35 PM UTC
Nobody's homebody, he melts on the road
like a Popsicle dropped
sick with sores in his throat.
Finds some lost leather proverbs
asleep in the mud
where my empty head had left 'em
'couple pulses short of blood,
nearly choked on the truth
with wooden ears and swollen tongue.
Not a pinch of relief
for dusty rubber teeth;
make a mind hate it's grainy brain
half-baked with sleep,
while the other half lay caked with wasted belief.
Jul 29, 2011
Jul 29, 2011 at 11:43 AM UTC
Everybody is nobody
To somebody
A homebody
Aged female
Children gone
Wrinkled skin
Brown eyes
Rotten teeth
Holds tightly
To old memories
As they slip like mercury
Between her fingers
To be forgotten
Tired old veteran
****** back
Body sore
From the last fall
Hurts to breath
But at least
He is still alive
Holding down
The old folks town
The sidewalk ***
Hungry and lonely
Looking for nothing
Affection forgotten
Joys lost to the
Ravages of time
Little boy bruised
Abused
Miss-used
By angry adults
Tormented by other teens
Hazel eyes hold no light
Only finds hope in
Razor blade delights
The middle aged sage poet
Stumbling through life
Half awake
But more alert then others
Wrinkles of pain
Under his eyes
Those bags are full
And sag so deep
That they burn
Not movie stars
Or pop divas
Nobodies
Forgotten remembered
And lost again
Fragile beauty
Breaking with time
People who I claim
As mine
My brotherhood
We are all beautiful nobodies
Jun 30, 2015
Jun 30, 2015 at 3:01 PM UTC
Whose to blame for the homebodies being trapped by street people, Ted of course, he is
You see I had a great life being a homebody making fun of people on the street, but to those street kids, the homebodies are known as shy boys, and Ted every day when the homebodies got to their houses, heh heh heh heh, you homebodies are trapped, we aren't going to ever set them free, because the street kids wanted to take the homebodies to the underpass, and not necessary **** them, just change the homebodies from being homebodies to shy people, because these homebodies didn't really want to play on the street, and when the street kids came over and teased them, the homebodies ran inside saying, you can't get us fella, Ted had fun at this moment, making sure that these homebodies act too shy to be homebodies, and one went away saying that they will never catch him, and despite Ted trying, even to this day to get him, he had never been caught, while Ted has his friend have a few problems like getting teased in the way he did as a kid, because they wanted to stop him from being a homebody, and it was easy to stop him, because Ted has him right where he wants him, and every time he goes home, they tease him to try to make him go out and get drunk and make trouble for the families, and he got drunk every day, causing trouble every day, and people on the street said, that he wasn't a cool homebody anymore, and if he tries to do what he likes to do at home, the old street kids said they will try and abduct him and put him in a drain pipe, where if the water became high, he would be washed away.
And he yelled, HELP, about 13 times, hoping that a passer by would notice him, stuck in there, and hopefully they will rescue him, from in there, but when no one came to rescue him, he tried to figure out how to free himself, before things got worst.
His other homebody friend saw him stuck in there, and when he called his name, he sat there playing cool for the street kid, that he thought I was becoming, and then he just left his old mate their to die.
When this homebody, turned street kid got free, he got on the phone to one of his ****** mates, to go into his old homebody's house and blast his head off, and he said yes, to start but when he said he couldn't go through with it, he was mad and started to yell at this ****** untill he eventually got sick of him and said, go back to your homebody mate, your not like us, never, will never am.
Then after 3 months of not talking to him, he ended up being shoved in the back of a 4 wheel drive and driven to the edge of a cliff, where this homebody escaped from, and never saw his friend again, but he didn't care either, because he was stopping him from moving on with his life, while Ted was laughing saying, he's suffering, and this homebody heard him laugh and slowly found his way back to the top, and told Ted, you won't ever get me, cause your a loser, and Ted got angry, and tried to capture him, but he found solace in creativity which worked very well, but Ted still was there, but he was a homebody again, never to ever be grabbed.
Sent from my iPhone
Jul 29, 2015
Jul 29, 2015 at 6:53 PM UTC
I just want five hundred grand
Is that too much for me to ask?
It is a lot. Probably too much.
But I am prepared for the task
Of spending that much dough.
I have it completely planned out.
I know where every dollar goes.
It’s all over but the last shout.
Right away, I want a house
And a decent one here on Kauai.
I also want a brand new truck
For my husband to drive and try.
I also have a few trips to plan
Like floating down the Rhine
And then up by train to Denali
That would suit us both just fine.
That ought to do it, I believe;
A secure home all paid for
And decent new cars for us
And a world out there to explore.
That should spend that money
And have a bit of change left over.
Satisfying the homebody I am
And the man I married is a rover.
I am very willing to write a book
And have it sell a million copies.
I have several started and am sure
They would each be a hit in shoppes.
There can be about eight books
Carefully edited by me, for sure
Those alone should make my rep.
That would be my poverty cure.
Sep 23, 2015
Sep 23, 2015 at 3:38 AM UTC
I
always
hope
I
have
some
inkling
of
sex
appeal.
Feb 7, 2012
Feb 7, 2012 at 1:48 AM UTC
i will admit
i am not the type of girl
to go to a bar and sit in a cloud of smoke
and listen to music purely because it is live
and i apologize if that is what you were expecting of me
but that is just not me
i am the type of girl
to go to old hidden bookshops and inhale the scent of literature
i am the type of girl
to sit on my bed at 4 am and talk about all the thoughts to a friend
i am the type of girl
who is more interested in sitting around a bonfire than going to a mall
i am sorry to any human expecting anything more or less of me
but i am not like that, it's just not me
i am a homebody, i am an lover of the arts, i am an introvert
i am a lot of things, but i am not a loud and extroverted human
i love my comfortable home and my few friends
now you are aware of my awkwardness and inability to be uncomfortable
i refuse to do something i don't want to
i am not going to do something purely because of the view of others
i am me, i am not going to change
and you are you, and you shouldn't have to change to get along with me
i apologize for expecting that of me, but then again
i am not going to apologize for being me
Jan 16, 2018
Jan 16, 2018 at 1:23 AM UTC
Weep Oceana weep, my sweetest dear
What a homebody you've been to me, darling Oceana
Now don't curdle my head and heart, but oh the distance
I weep for the distance
Each cradled memory - beaten with palm frans with invisible hands holding me
Meddling with time Oceana. Oh it's been time! My ocean current bringing me down, but I promise, so deeply to the marrow - there is no other one, to this day
Oh dear, my sails must go up you see.
My hands are wrinkling with time, sparingly - so I only hold your fainted lights in my locket to the unfolding oblivion
The wind on my neck, Countless stars guiding me north - a new destiny.
But in every written desire, I will always look south, back to you - my only Oceana
Jul 16, 2016
Jul 16, 2016 at 11:28 PM UTC
Homebody for
five days a week: staying up
til late killing time.
P a r t y !
on Friday and drinks
and chips on Saturday.
Shower and
mo(a/r)ning *** with kinks
on Sunday. **** I have
to wake up early mañana.
Jul 27, 2019
Jul 27, 2019 at 6:43 PM UTC
I'm just a homebody I like to stay to myself away from everybody some call me lame some call me boring but I don't care I don't bother to counter there attacks im above that keep insulting me I love that keep doubting me I love.that I'm no big Sean but watch me bounce back now sit back and watch the biggest comeback since the warriors came back from 3-1 to be honest I'm not a finished product but trust me when I say I'm worth the wait I lost myself trying to help somebody find themselves in the process of that I became a stranger to my own reflection I hope y'all get the message be yourself love yourself don't try to be something you not but then again what do I know I'm just a homebody I like to stay to myself away from everybody some call me lame some call me boring but that won't stop me from being who I am
Feb 23, 2018
Feb 23, 2018 at 6:39 PM UTC
I live in an uptown house
I mean look at me of course I do.
I live a a conservative house
It shields me from coming storm
I live in an empty house
On a street without a living person
I live in a smart house
Maybe to smart because it drags me under
The bars on the window shield me from the open world
The locks on the door keep the fear from reaching my heart in my own home
The lights on the ceiling keep me from going blind.
The clock on the wall has me always checking the time
The tv blares so I can forget the sins of distant past.
The walls are wide but close inside as I look up at it all.
The paint looks white with a yellow tint so you see the new clash with old
I long to walk out of the house but never build the courage too
I long to leave but never really know just what to do.
I could take a car to another world outside this beautifully wicked place
Or remain complacent and live in stasis where I never can escape
Welcome home the Mat says as if to tell me I should never leave.
Goodbye the world says as I walk in to my horrible reprieve
Yes indeed a prisoner to my own home and routine
But I guess that's how life is when you live on desolation street.
Aug 2, 2016
Aug 2, 2016 at 1:26 PM UTC