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Carolina P Jun 2015
When looking at one's own reflection
It's like looking at another dimension
Everything is the same, but...
deceptively so.
If you stared hard enough,
open-mouthed and peering
You'd see that
Your right ear is on your left
Left eye is right,
as if your person was....
backward? No.

Just a reflection.

But it is interesting to think
that there is a world beyond
with only a thin glass in between.
A world that is yours,
just a play-back in reverse.
Rusty Apr 2015
Going through so much ****** up **** and having it all dealing with important ( **** that matters so deeply to you ) things In your life just ***** a person up. And with a negative soul taking over every thought of happy ones, is just all bad for a person. Especially for a person like me. Demons are real, very real. They torture you in ways that's so dark, scary and ******* weird, they have nothing but deadly motives. All that scary **** is real, but so is happy, and loving things, the "dark" world in a persons mind are very interesting and so curious to knows about. But the happy, live, positve world is the world for me. You feel so alive, you feel yourself, you feel like just changing the world, learning new things, you feel like a walking soul in s human beautfil body. Love yourself and don't get to curious with the curious dark side of yourself. Cause its not a place for anyone
Chloe Perkins May 2013
I hope I never die

Part of me wants to be there to watch humanity collapse in on itself. I want to see the world destroy itself. Whenever that might be.  I want to be alive until the end of time, and meet new interesting people the whole time. I hope I never die, so I can see what the future for us holds. I’m a much too curious person.


I hope I die sooner rather than later.

Sometimes things get to be too much for me, and all I want is to die. Right there. Right then. On a whim. I don’t care what people say about me. They’ll say I’m just another one of those depressed teenagers who took her own life out of selfishness. I don’t care. Everyone’s entitled to their own opinion, no matter how ****** it is. I just don’t want to be alive to watch the few people that I actually love just deteriorate. I’m not ready for that. I’m not sure if I ever will be.
sked Jun 2013
I sit down
On my privileged white boy ***
Spinning around in my black chair
And think of a poem to write

How could I not think of anything that I can write about?
There are so many topics and problems of the world!
Love
Hate
Drugs
Alcohol
Adolescence
Birth
Death
******
Retribution
Revenge  
Racism
Sexism
*** in general
****
Feminism
****
The one percent
The ninety-nine percent
Books
Poems
And many more but I'll break down why I can't think of these

Love
Cliche topic
Written my say about it
Already
Already have so many poems
On that topic
I don't wanna do the boring old
Topic tonight

Hate
Now there's a topic I haven't covered
But like love
It's cliche
Skip that for tonight
I don't have a say on the matter now
Other than I hate people who don't like me

Drugs
I've never touched a drug
I've met people influenced by drugs
But not that well
Can't write about
How good they are
Maybe how bad they are
But I don't know people well enough
Who can teach me how bad they are
So I'll move along

Alcohol
**** I'm lame
A poet who has never
Gotten drunk once
I'm a shame to the poetry community

Adolescence
It ******
Girls didn't like me very much
My crotch itched all the time
Wanted to *******
About twenty times a day
A different day to write about that

Birth
Don't remember it
I've had rebirths
But I don't think that counts

Death
My grandma died!
Oh, but I didn't know her very well
It'd be quite false to lament
That much about it

******
Why even bother
Never murdered
Have wanted to ****** on plenty of occasions
But only to the extent that everyone else does
Not interesting enough
Next

Retribution
O.K well I can talk
A lot about that
But not in the mood

Revenge
Isn't that similar
To retribution?
Why'd I even list that?

Racism
I'm white
Can't get much better than that
I get socioeconomic benefits
Which makes me a pretty lucky guy
And plus
If I were to be called a *****
On the streets by a person
It really wouldn't ruin my day

Sexism
I'm a man
I get the benefits of being a man
More pay
More respect
Yup got nothing to write about there

*** in general
Well I'm a ******
Ain't I pathetic
So unless you want
A sloppy description
Of how awesome it feels
To get my **** wet
Then I'm not gonna bother

****
I've never been *****
And I'm a pretty strong guy
In general
I've never experienced ****
Nor known someone really well
Who has been *****
And it's pretty obvious
**** is bad
So there isn't that much else
To say about it

Feminism
I agree equality for women is awesome
Equal pay
Equal respect
But I think changing the spelling
From woman to womyn
Is a bit bizarre.....
To touchy a topic
Don't wanna lose the female audience
No writing of that tonight

****
There's a lot of it
Out there
Most people agree
That it disrespects women
And desensitizes men to the
Idea of ****
So I really don't have
Much to add in this matter
Other than to not really use it

The one percent
They're rich
They make more money than you
We learned in economics
If we had total equality
We wouldn't be efficient
Although at the same time
More middle ground should be made
I'm sure they aren't greedy *******
In total though

The ninety-nine percent
They have every right
To be completely angry
But I already covered them
In my last poem
So ***** that for tonight

Books
Who doesn't love to pick up
And read a good book
But why change it to a poem
Doesn't that **** with the writer's
Original intention and could scope the message?
Shouldn't we leave it to the lit crits to take care of that?
I think it does
I'll move on

Poems
I think I'm already talking about that
Jack Piatt Jan 2014
No snow days in the sunny states
But free bus rides to the other side
Climb, climb, climb …
The fruit is higher

Ignore the dead ones below
The pieces that dried up
Waiting to be picked

And what is picked besides guitars, noses and colorful roses?
Okay, so …  lots of things
But how they are picked – much more interesting!


An ocean full of notion
Notions to fill an ocean

Emotions
ooOOHHHH
the EMOTION!

I’d like to shower it out
Maybe hike a mountain and let loose a shout!

Release

I don’t like leases

So Re- lease


Let go

No snow when the sun’s in town
No frowns when a smile’s around

Let’s take the underground and move it up a floor
I’m bored with being bored


You want to write a letter and mail it to space aliens with me?
Probably take a long *** time to get there
But, oh the look on their faces when they get it!

Worth the wait.

Totally.
(c) 2014
Vanessa May 2014
She started to walk faster without realizing she was trying to catch up to him
At that moment she lessened her pace but didn't fall too short of his steps
She walked behind him with a safe but still dangerously close distance
He wore the limited edition Olympic head phones on
The ones she bought him for his birthday just last year
He always liked to think of himself has the next Michael Phelps
He could have been had he not doubted himself so much  
She knew he was listening to his own rap music that he wrote
He was arrogant like that
He always liked to think of himself has a musical artist
He could have had he not doubted himself so much
Mildly, she hoped the noise ringing through his ears was about her and not the disaster he's been seeing recently
This story would get more interesting if he had turned around to notice her
Ultimately she knew he wouldn't
And he didn't.
He walked out the door, and she, not too far behind, did the same
He ran through the rain to his car and she walked slowly through the rain, in the opposite direction to hers.
Icarus Kirk Jul 2013
the worst thing in the world
is waiting
and expecting nothing
and even then
being bitterly disappointed

the worst thing in the world
is having something you care about
taken away from you
with no chance
of getting it back

the worst thing in the world
is knowing
that everything is not hopeless
but bland
and hollow
and that your life will never be even a little bit
interesting

the worst thing in the world
is wanting to be with someone
but being unable to tell them
that you would really like their company
and knowing that they think you don't want them here

the worst thing in the world
is the world
and knowing
that you live here
Chuck Aug 2014
I ventured on a journey all alone
Self powered also self empowered
Lonely I was but I did not bemoan
Miles washed down the drain as I showered

Met interesting folks on my bike trip
Stayed with a couple, helped me feel at home
Crashed with earthy folks, who were ultra hip
Greeted with support wherever I roamed

Climbed mountains ascending fifteen degrees
Some stretched up for miles into the blue sky
And descents that caused wobbles in my knees
As valleys and streams vanished from my eyes

Sure, I missed my wife and my kids' cute smiles
Yet, this was an adventure for legs and soul
They both grew stronger with each pedaled mile
My head was spinning as my tires rolled

Crossed my sylvan state, an empowered state
Something I just knew I wanted to do
When I made it, I had to celebrate
New Jersey was my state of soul anew
Glenn McCrary May 2014
"I wish they'd stop going on about it, the things that are unseen but for brief glimpses and shadows, and fully heard. The beings in their closets and under their beds, their voices carried in a wind that isn't there. They stand, stiff, breathing shallow and deep in the lack of light, dripping wet from the storm that didn't happen in this world, muddying up the carpet, mounting with stench. They're not there, you idiots, they're over here, in my eyes, in my head, buried between my lungs and pushing the limits of my bones, my weaknesses. Stop your complaining. If only I could muffle you." ~ Jade Day


DO: Ah, yes. Ms. Day is also a favorite author of mine.

[Anaïs smiles at Do.]

NURSE YUCKI: Really? I actually think that is interesting that we have similar tastes in literature.

DO: I know right!

NURSE YUCKI: I mean she could hook you with just one word.

DO: That she can.

[Do turns his head in another direction; Anaïs looks down as she clears her throat.]

NURSE YUCKI: So how are you feeling Do? Are your emotions gradually beginning to retract back into a more manageable state?

DO: Yeah somewhat, but they are still fluctuating a bit. I think I will be fine.

NURSE YUCKI: Would you like me to monitor you just in case?

DO: No, thank you, Anaïs. I think I can handle my emotions for now, but I will let you know if something comes up.

NURSE YUCKI: Promise?

[Do smiles at Anaïs.]

DO: Promise.

[Do’s stomach began to growl loudly.]

NURSE YUCKI: Ooh. Someone is hungry I am assuming.

DO: Ha ha well your assumption wouldn’t be wrong Anaïs. I am a tad bit hungry actually.

NURSE YUCKI: Well, considering that it is now lunch time, I suggest that you go to the cafeteria and enjoy yourself a lovely, hot afternoon meal. The cafeteria is down the hall to your left and is the third room on your right. In the meantime I think I will take a little detour and purchase some premium foods to consume.

DO: You know that actually wouldn’t be a bad idea.

[Do and Anaïs both laugh in equal synchronization.]

NURSE YUCKI: I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Do.

DO: Yes, you will. Have a great day Anaïs and thanks again

NURSE YUCKI: You’re welcome.

[Anaïs smiles and winks at Do on her way out. Do smiles back. Do then leaves the black room and exits through the entrance. Above Do’s head were signs that helped to direct him to take the proper route, but there was no need for him to read it as Anaïs had already instructed him on how to get there. Do continues walking down the hall until he reaches the third room on his right. There was a big sign above the entrance that said “CAFETERIA”. Do then entered the cafeteria to handfuls of laughter and patients talking amongst themselves while eating the meal of their choice. There was a moderately long line of which Do joined as he waited along with the rest of the patients to receive his lunch. Do noticed that a girl with *****, blonde shoulder length hair was standing in front of him. She was wearing glasses with square black frames much like the glasses that Dr. Nightmare often wore. She had beady eyes of an exceptionally moderate size and her skin was pearly white with a smile that was naturally inviting. She then spotted Do and appropriately began speaking to him.]

SPORE: Hello there. How are you?

DO: I’m doing okay. Yourself?

SPORE: Yeah, I’m alright but I wish this line would move just a little bit faster. This is driving me bonkers. So what’s your name if you don’t mind me asking?

DO: My name is Do.

[Spore reaches out to shake Do’s hand.]

SPORE: Spore. You have a pretty cool name you know?

[Do lightly laughs.]

DO: Well, thank you.

SPORE: You are certainly welcome, Do.

[Spore smiles at Do.]

SPORE: So where are you from?

DO: Like what country am I from or like what city?

[Spore chuckles.]

SPORE: I meant in general silly ha ha.

DO: Well, I’m from North America. I was born in a small town called Springfield, Illinois but I was raised in Memphis, Tennessee.

SPORE: Interesting.

DO: How about you? Where are you from?

SPORE: I am from British Columbia, Canada although I was raised in a small city named Abbotsford.

DO: What was it like there?

SPORE: At times it was weird and some days were worse than others, but I somehow managed to pull through.

DO: So how did you end up in here?

SPORE: Long story short I nearly decapitated my former friend’s head off with a chainsaw then attempted to slit my wrists with it.

[Do looked shocked as he was laughing at Spore’s statement.]

DO: Oooh brutal are we?

SPORE: Hey, ******* be trippin’!

[Both Do and Spore began laughing in equal succession. The line had continued to move forward. It was finally Spore’s turn to select the portions of her meal.]

LUNCH LADY: Good afternoon and welcome to Black Wick Cafeteria. Today’s specials are pizza and fish and shrimp. Today’s sides are coleslaw, biscuits and baked beans with your choice of cocktail or tartar sauce. What would you like?

SPORE: Um… I guess I will take the fish and shrimp with a side of baked beans and cocktail sauce and tartar sauce.

LUNCH LADY: That will be six dollars.

SPORE: That’s fine. You want anything Do? Lunch is on me today.

DO: Yes, I think I’ll have the same thing you are having.

SPORE: Alright then. Excuse me miss but could you add a duplicate order for my buddy Do here.

[The lunch lady nodded and began preparing Do’s order.]

DO: Thank you so much, Spore. I appreciate this more than you know.

SPORE: No problem.

[Spore smiled at Do. As Spore and Do were departing from the lunch line they heard a string of insults follow them as they were searching for a table.]




TABLE #1: Continuez à marcher baiseur. Vous n'êtes pas le bienvenu ici!

TABLE #2: C'est le tableau est réservé pour la belle et que l'intellectuel. Vous êtes trop stupide pour être considéré comme l'un de nous!

TABLE #3: Ahem! Excusez-moi, mais je n'arrive pas à reconnaître le potentiel de développement de la beauté ou de la popularité en vous. S'il vous plaît revenir quand ce jour est arrivé. Merci.


SPORE: Pay them no mind, Do. Just keep walking.


[Spore softly grabs Do’s hand as they are walking.]

WIFI: Hey look guys! Spore’s got a boyfriend.

WIFI’S TABLE: Oooooohhhhhh!!!!!!!

[All of the patients at that were sitting with Wifi began to mock Spore with several fake smooches and hugs. Spore blushed.]

SPORE: You see this is exactly why we never worked out WiFi. You were always so self-centered, narcissistic and desperate. No matter what we said, did or where we went it was always about you.

[Wifi got up and stood in front of the table behind him as he spread his arms out. WiFi had long, wavy, red hair with hazel eyes, and pearly white skin. He wore a black leather jacket with denim blue jeans and leather black boots.]

WIFI: Do you even realize how stupid you sound right now? If it was truly all about me we would have never dated. Think about what you are saying before you speak.

[Spore blushed again.]

SPORE: Yeah well…. Even then still it was about you.

[Spore gently wiped the tears that were streaming from her face. Her nose had turned bright red in response.]

WIFI: Eh what does it matter now? We’re not together anymore so we are wasting our time talking to each other. I’m trying to eat lunch and chill with my peeps. Beat it.

SPORE: *******, Wifi! I am leaving on my own terms not yours!

[WiFi balled his fists as he got up and began running at a speed believed to be faster than Superman. He was about to hit Spore but Do stepped in his way and blocked his punch.]

DO: You will not hit her or you will suffer the consequences.

WIFI: And what if I do? What are you gonna do? Punch me in the face? Are you gonna kick me in the *****? Ha ha I am used to that. Learn some new tricks and then we’ll talk okay. Now move out of my way.

[Spore screamed very loudly as WiFi tried to take another swing at her. Do blocked WiFi’s punch yet again only this time taking his arm and lowering his head as he slid under it. He then stood in the same position as WiFi while still holding his arm and began ramming his right elbow deep into his his nose breaking it upon immediate contact. Do then took WiFi’s wrist and arm and twisted them until they snapped breaking both areas of his arm instantly. He then picked WiFi up and slammed his rib cage directly on his knee and let him drop to the hard, marble floor.]

SPORE: Do stop! That’s enough!

[Spore was crying again as she stood there in shock. Everyone was watching. WiFi was laying across the floor in a fetal position with a small puddle of blood leaking from his broken nose. His eyes were barely open.]

WIFI: Ugh… Ugghh...

SPORE: Come on, Do. We’ll eat lunch outside.

DO: I think that would be a good idea.

SPORE: You and me both.

[Do and Spore grabbed their lunch trays and walked outside. It was sunny and the trees were still without leaves as it was still winter. The breeze was very cold. A musically digital sound began playing in the background. It was Spore’s cell phone.]

SPORE: Oh, and I just got a text from my friends of whom I’d love for you to meet. They want us to come and sit with them.

DO: Alright, I’m down. Where are they sitting?

[A girl with bubblegum pink hair was waving at Spore with a smile on her face.]

SPORE: They are sitting right over there against the brick wall.

DO: Ok then let’s go.

[Do and Spore walk over to the table where Spore’s friends were sitting. They arrive at the table and set their trays down as they took a seat.]

SPORE: Hey guys I have someone that I would like you to meet. Gum and Sweat meet Do. Do meet Gum and Sweat.

GUM: Hello, Do. It is a pleasure to meet you.

SWEAT: Sup Do? Glad to have you.

[Do shook both Gum and Sweat’s hands.]

DO: Hey. It is very nice to meet the two of you. Thank you for introducing me, Spore.

SPORE: No problem.

[Spore smiled once again.]

DO: So how did the three of you meet?

SPORE: Well, first of all I arrived at Black Wick on November 2, 2013. I met Gum later that evening as we were assigned as roommates. It wasn’t until about a week later that I met Sweat. He was fencing when we met and he finished then took off his fencing mask to greet me.

SWEAT: Ha ha yeah, I remember that. Those were some pretty memorable days eh?

GUM: Indeed they were.

DO: Where are you from Gum?

GUM: Oh, I’m from Oklahoma but I was living in Las Vegas, Nevada before I got here. Let me tell you I got into lots of mischief during that time. The parties were crazy and the night clubs were always packed. I hooked up with numerous guys and girls. I even did coke and **** do I regret that. I am never doing that ever again, but drinking is acceptable.

DO: How about you Sweat? Where are you from?

SWEAT: Oh, I’m from Memphis, TN but I was living in Cordova before being dumped in this hellhole.

DO: Dude no way! I live in Cordova too.

SWEAT: Really bro? That’s dope.

DO: I know right! So Spore who was that guy who was harassing you in the cafeteria?

SPORE: Oh yeah I almost forgot about that. The guy’s name is Willard Fike but everyone calls him WiFi due to his extensive computer programming and networking skills. He even knows how to build and send viruses to computers. Me and WiFi used to date which was long before the two of us ever ended up in here. One day we got into a very heated argument.

[The scene flashes to a black and white filtered memory. Spore and WiFi are standing in the middle of a living room arguing really loudly.]

SPORE: So you think it is ok to mug someone late at night as they are walking home?! What if somebody had saw you?! Do you have any idea what happened?!

WIFI: Look I don’t give a **** alright! I don’t have a job! I needed money! What the **** did you expect me to do?! Huh???!!! Answer me!!!!!!!

SPORE: You could try checking the job ads in the paper. You could try job searching within the city. There is no valid enough excuse as to why you mugged that innocent pedestrian.

WIFI: Well I don’t like being broke you can ride with me or you can go and **** yourself. Pick one!

SPORE: If money is important enough to sacrifice your dignity then perhaps you are better off broke because you deserve a dime and you sure as hell won’t be receiving a cent from me.

[WiFi one-two punched Spore deeply in her stomach and then punched her squarely in the eye before delivering an uppercut. Spore was laying on the floor crying as WiFi began searching the room for cash.]

SPORE: WE ARE OVER! DO YOU HEAR ME????!!!!! OVER!!!!!!!

WIFI: I DON’T GIVE A ****!!!!!

[WiFi begins searching around the room for cash. He searches for about 5 minutes before settling on a sum of $500 of which he found in Spore’s mother’s purse. Spore picked up her cell phone and attempted to the call the kkkkkpolice when  WiFi suddenly placed  a pistol to her temple and pulled back the trigger.]

WIFI: I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Put the **** phone down now before I **** you.

[Spore did as she was told and dropped the phone. WiFi took the phone and threw it into the fish tank behind him.]

WIFI: Now you won’t ever be able to make calls to anyone.

SPORE: You know you are never going to get away with this.

WIFI: Technically, I already have. The question is who is going to stop me?

[WiFi left right after he asked that question slamming the door hard as he walked out.]

[The scene flashes back to the present.]

SPORE: I never was the same after that night.

DO: And he got away just like that?

SPORE: Well word got around fast and the cops caught up with him two days later following a string of police reports. I filed the day following the event so I guess you could say that I set it off.

SWEAT: Still, that’s sad though.

SPORE: I know and as Do and I were looking for a place to sit, a bunch of patients started hurling random insults at us in French and that was when I came across WiFi. Him and his buddies were mocking us and saying that we were a couple when that couldn’t be further than the truth.

DO: You say that almost as if you are ashamed of me, ha ha.

SPORE: I’m sorry, Do. You know that’s not what I meant.

DO: Yeah, I know.

[Spore gives Do a hug.]

SPORE: How do you feel now?

DO: Better.

SPORE: Anyway me and WiFi got into another argument while in the cafeteria and he tried to run up and attack me. Luckily Do was there to protect me. He basically ****** WiFi up. I seriously wanted to laugh at how much of a ***** Do made him look. The guy was lying across the floor in a fetal position whining. I couldn’t have asked for a better picture.

[The four them laughed together in equal succession. Another loud noise overlapped their laughter from behind the wall. It was the sound of two voices moaning. Both of the voices were female.

GUM: What was that?

SPORE: I have no idea.

SWEAT: Don’t know. Don’t care bro.

DO: I think I’ll go and have a look just to see what’s going on.

[The moaning continued and became increasingly louder as Do walked around the edge of the wall and behind it. He found two Caucasian girls completely half naked. Both girls were laying across the grass in the sixty-nine position eating each other out.]

DO: This is going to be fun.

[Do chuckled and smiled as his ******* grew.]
Gavin Ray Davis Nov 2011
Can you pour music into my soul?
Can you divide the lines between forgotten and unthoughtfulness?
I am strange.
Strange is my name.
I go by the titles of ******, God and the Devil.
Acting as one being, I am all powerful.
My words cut through like ice upon the ground.
Melting into your very core.
The common withdrawals of my life tend to create an atmosphere humid with lies and deceit.
Propaganda.
I am the overlord.
The great being that coincides with the path to destruction and sexuality.
A ****** moistened by the spit of a politician.
A reckless behavior, known by my cunning smile and grinning mouth,
I engross myself in the knowledge of good and evil.
The later being the most interesting.

Did you ever hear the story of mankind?
A dwindling pack of rats scurrying through life with the will for wealth, drugs and ***.
A greedy coin collector locked inside an attic.
A basic complication.
The worlds most renowned contradiction.
A magnificent art of bones and skin.
A neck, a support beam in times of headlessness and ill-being.
I will forgo my judgement as a walk-on to Heaven's door.
A key needed, I use my snaked tongue.
A crime so easily forgotten by those that are rotten.
No longer holding back, my flames scorch your heart.
A thumping paper bag in a locked chest centuries old.
Can you take the distance, mile runner?
A treacherous land this is,
Filled with snakes of every color.
Jule Aug 2019
I breathe to take in
what I can’t feel
Oxygen doesn’t linger
The dioxide fills
Likeminded individuals surround
They keep the place interesting
And my soul sound
As I try to search
for what I can’t feel
I close my eyes and listen
I know what I see isn’t real
Evynne Jun 2013
I see the ground impending at this very moment and I don't know what to do
What am I more than skin and bones waiting to rupture and explode through?
Sometimes my skin is the only part of me that feels
And music seems like a moral law
Just relax, take control, breathe
We're all volcanoes waiting to burst and we're bleeding into an ocean of uncertainties and a permanent life
What is there to do?
If we don't have our dreams, our passion, we have nothing
Nothing
We have to aspire to embrace all world views and perspectives, move beyond, and become open-minded
Kiss the stars and awaken to a new vision which is blinding at first
But our eyes will adjust
And we'll see the world, as it really is, for the first time
You're enough, we're all enough
We've always been enough
Our simple task is to enlighten the world
And look to the stars for guidance

Is it human to want to leave everything?
To go somewhere far, far away
Somewhere way up in the clouds
Humans scare me
I'm trapped in my own thoughts
They're so loud
But I'll hold your hand, we can go together
I could really use some guidance
Just look up kid
We're both beneath the same sky
We can do this

Remember, we all stumble and hesitate
Every one of us
We stagger
That's why it is such a comfort to go holding hands
We all turn out fine
One way or another
You are invincible
Oh, I forgot to tell you how beautiful you are

So where do you live?
Mostly in my head... What do I even ponder upon in the dead of the night?
We're magical
As anyone can see
Our words are soft
Sweetly combined
No one understands
It's so incomprehensible and uninterpretable
But it's so intriguing... My thoughts are so mixed up
I think so much it's unhealthy
If I could think out loud
My voice would be a never ending soundtrack
I would never stop talking
There's so much
I'm so confined
I am so little
We're all sustained to conformity
We need out of our minds
If someone asked me what I think about when I hear the word "eternity" or "endlessly" or anything... I wouldn't be able to give them a straight answer
I think too much and everything would become too elaborate
No one understands
Conformity will **** us all

My fears climb up my spine like spiders
Who can show me that I have nothing to fear?
God can? That's what I'm told...
Almost like he had it planned
But it's all planned, Evynne
Even what I am saying right now was all planned out
We just don't know
I think that's it
I don't know
I never knew
That
Scares me
I wish I could break free and know and learn
And never possess the ability to say "I don't know" ever again
I hate not knowing
This really shouldn't be that unusual to me, not knowing
But it is
It all is
We're all too young and too susceptible
We'll drown in our thoughts and feelings and emotions
We're stuck in a pool of conformity with no drain

Conformity is an interesting thing to me
Because if our generation is all about being different and doing what you love...
Well how is that even possible?
And if everyone is trying to be different, aren't we all the same?
It's so much to think about
I never stop
We each build up our own world of difference and uniqueness and magic
I walk down the street and see twenty of the same people
It comforts some to think they're different but know that they're the same as the person next to them
But only the brave strangers are the ones that stand out in the crowd of differences
And I admire these people
Because not only does it take a **** load of strength and integrity to do this
But also a purpose
And no one has a purpose these days
These rare human beings have simply decided to set themselves free
Jump into the wind
And create something new
They've got it

I'm blinded by these heroes and thieves at my doorstep
I can't seem to tell them apart anymore
These words make me feel okay though
They say words are the most powerful drug to mankind
Watch for beauty
And look at who shines
Be clever
We'll figure it out
Àŧùl Oct 2024
I sought recovery.
After my first breakup.
Social service attracted me.
I volunteered to teach for free.

Soon, I was back to old ways.
Delving deep into romance,
Finding my lucky chance,
Addiction called me again.

A co-volunteer she was.
And why not? Why not?
Me, she found interesting,
Who doesn't like an artist?

But she was a cold-blooded narcissist.
Yes, bigger than me, bigger than me,
Her pursuits included the world,
My pursuit was limited to her.

What went on in my life,
What she put me through,
What I found myself dealing with,
What I went through during that time.

Tasked with thirteen exams,
Me she had challenged,
Her narcissistic ways,
I cleared them all,

She was a liar,
Had a bloated ego,
I deflated her balloon,
She finally inflated mine.
My HP Poem #2009
©Atul Kaushal
Melissa Nye Jul 2013
How I feel for you is like trying to remember your dreams or recollecting where you left your phone,
Because I don't know where it started from,
Just like how I don't remember the exact moment when my head hits my pillow for the first time,
Or when I took my first phone call or replied to the first text that came through.
I can't retrace my steps to where it all began.
Because it was so slow,
And I don't ever intend to recognise the position I am in at 2:36am while trying to get some beauty sleep or the angle of my phone on the coffee table next to a tea stained coaster,
Just like how I didn't intend to realise the beauty of your face, the outline of your jaw or the mannerism of your voice as you say my name for the first time,
And how I feel for you is like a tonne of ******* bricks,
Because I can't even breathe when you're around,
And one by one each brick of insecurities that I have collapses onto me because I can't hold myself up to push away the bricks,
And say how I feel and it's concrete, set in stone that I am not for you.
I don't think that by finding my phone I can figure you out
Or buy myself some time to remove the aspect of sleeping from my life
So I never have to dream again just to live in the only constant of reality
In order to realise that I am naive and young and free minded but I am the world if I want to be.
Tell me, if I remember my dreams like I remember the solar system or the quadratic formula does that make me unworthy?
Because only astronomers can recall the solar system in a flash and only mathematicians use the quadratic formula day by day,
But we are not all astronomers or mathematicians but I know that one plus one equals two, me and you
And I know that as long as there are stars in the sky that you are important to me.
So believe me,
That when I say I need you I need you to need me too,
To need me in the sense that I probably can live without you but the fact of the matter is I don't want to
Because that wouldn't be as far as interesting as the two of us being crazy at 3am by throwing cookie dough at the wall.
Not to need me in the sense that I need you to be next to me every minute of every single ******* day
Because you don't.
You just need someone,
Someone to care or not to care but someone, anyone because then you won't feel even as half as alone as you did the night before
And I know you did as we all did but I want you to want me as in you want me to ride Saw with you at Thorpe Park
And I want you to want to walk me to the bus stop not because it's on your route home.
I can't remember where I've been
Or the dream that I had last night
Or where I left my phone,
But I know that I've been to the moon and back thinking about you
I know that last night's dream was about you stomping on a spider
I know that I put my phone on the breakfast bar of the kitchen.
I know fractions.
I will never know the full story to anything besides from my own stories and histories
Just like dreams and places I've been and where my phone has gone
I know fractions of you like how one third of the time you are sleeping
Three times out of eight you are at the bookies
Half the time you are on my mind.
The next time you remember your dream back to back and recite it like a subtitled drama,
Or the next time you find your phone once you realise you left it on the table on your morning train,
I hope that you recognise that nobody loves like that or lives like that in a constant perfection
I hope you realise how some people don't want to remember their dreams when they wake up because not all of them are good ones,
That sometimes it's best to leave our phones where they are to disconnect from a world of social media for a couple of hours
That maybe it's okay to not remember wherever we wish because bad things might have happened at those points in our pasts
And that's how I fell for you, in little bits.
This poem is Spoken Word.
Patricia Arches Feb 2014
I never liked writing
my thoughts
because I could not put things
into the right words
with the right sentences

the rhythm
the repetitions
the rhymes

I could never make sense
of ink spilling out onto paper
washed in
the salty speculations and
pristine attention to detail

picket fences, red feathered hats, locomotives, and
what I ate yesterday
weren't  as interesting
on the lines of monotony
on what used to be trees
it was always incomplete



but most
of all
I never liked writing
because I couldn't fully explain you
even if I tried

I still can't write you right.
samasati Jun 2013
a lot of people I know
are never really happy
even when they’re happy, they’re really just sad

a lot of people I know
settle for just about anything
they’ll settle for emotional abuse and then settle for a deep addiction to feel better about the emotional abuse they’re letting themselves prostrate to
as long as it can still make “living” seem feasible,
they’ll settle
because nobody taught them how to ask for what they want,
so all this time they never ******* knew they were granted permission to feel worthy of getting what they want
because this world likes to think that nobody is entitled to feel worthy or to give into clarity

a lot of people I know
get off on damaging themselves
because blood and burns and bones and ***** and *** and pills and puke
are such disgusting in-your-face secrets
and this world knows it’s not acceptable to just blatantly write
“I hate myself” on your forehead with permanent marker for everyone else to see
yes, this stupid, guileful world we live in decided to trick everyone into believing that secrecy and suppression are what make a person
interesting and loveable

a lot of people I know
have this wicked demon inside of them
and they like to imagine it looks like a fiery nightmare,
red like terror
with a devilish face; poisonous eyes and a heartless grin;
a face that says “I own you”
just so that they can reinforce their ideas of worthlessness
and the self-pity of not having true control over themselves
when really, they can always have true control whenever they want

what *a lot of people I know
don’t know is that
that wicked demon thing inside of them
is really just a flower wilting, starving, dying,
waiting, hoping, longing to be watered
and wondering what the **** they did
to be tortured like this
Nicole Sep 2017
You speak of *******
And I just want to make love
Our first time was more the latter
Our second the former
What an interesting combination
Love and lust
I've never felt as connected to someone emotionally
As I do when having *** with you
Because I can usually disconnect the two
Except with you
Except with you
Zalea Apr 2014
Depression for me is something that kills you mentally,
That constantly eats your self-esteem,
So when you need it,
It's gone,

It brings the blade to your skin,
The pills to your stomach,
The smoke to your lungs,
And a glass of ***** to your lips,

Making you think it's all my fault,
Because to me it is my fault,
And it will never stop being my fault

So here's to the people,
The people with no self-esteem,
And trust issues,
For we have one thing,
We are all the interesting.
DarkSilence Jun 2015
It's interesting to look through the cracks in my eyelids,
Find wonders without even tryin'.
Staring out the window in my soul,
Womderin' why it's so fah king cold.
<><><>
To many mistakes,
Feelin' fake.
To many superficial sunsets,
To few undetected inlets.
I hate these bright colors,
Blue, green, red,
And what the **** is wonder flutter?
<><><>
I feel this dark hue,
Trickle down to my new shoes.
Sending shivers down my spine,
It's a good thing death is not a crime.
Trade my soul for a sense of humor,
Must really ****,
Died cuz I had a tumor,
Whatever, don't give a f*#k
<><><>
Treat me like a ***** rat,
I'll treat you like I'm Chris kratt!
Explainin' all these animal blunders,
Still not another bowl dunker.
Don't treat me like I'm new,
Not like I work at a zoo.
I don't actually like how I did this one, I think I could have done better....... Sorry guys.......
Ken Pepiton May 2019
Who, me. I don't know,
I'll ask We, the people.

How has the world,
the one we share, you with me, I with thee,
how has our reality
come to today
surrounded by hooting proud warriors lauding their leaders
made kings by the magi and the tax collectors and spenders?

That's the question.
I think it's a test, or a temptation, knowing the answer might **** us.

Do the math, or believe an expert who says
he knows he knows, an
experienced thinker and weigher of big ideas.

Choose an expert, Yahoo, Goggle experts in interesting time one.
You choose.
Only for now. These teasing toy journeys are only real
in your way of thinking.

An expert in words at play or
an expert in words of war
or work or woe or
joy and
strength'n'vigorishit--
use-ery compounded into stone
an expert in dark, full-on absense of light, al
right, al
ready -- the expert
you let be smarter than you, by God, or any other witness,

that expert better be having more than historical authority, okeh.

Gears used to grind, stick-shift,
yoost to lever m'thematically synchronized
wheels in wheels,
lesser gears, experienced old grease monkey knows,
between those,
is where m'monkey wrench goes.

Bring wheels in wheels to a screeching halt!

Like by the River of Tebar, very hard to write such thoughtscenes,
he trys, um-phailure, deep breath,

look around, selah.
Kiss the son, taste the son, know the son as brother, as gotchabacker
friend, who is the way, the truth, and the life.

No lie is of the truth. There is a basic algorythm in 2019.
AND in 2019 I have an idea that works for me,

the null set can hold any evil any mind, mortal or otherwise,
can conceive.

Napoleon Hill seeds sometimes sown as weeds to choke a crop of lies,
"What the mind of man can conceive, it can acheive."
Ah, so:
Man as a whole, he is thought to have meant, mankind, wombed and un;
but he may have meant man as in, any one man, wombed or un.

--- end first course --- recycle all utensils
an exexcerpt ussurpet my stuttering muse has returned, Any interest in a novel written in this style?
Ford Prefect Jun 2015
everyone tells me
"people write what they know"
sure
okay
whatever.

******.

i guess that means i
know heartache-
though i don't recall
ever
meeting him
personally.

interesting.

i guess i know more
than i think
if i have
so much to
say.

dangerous
territory
i'm trekking here.
Brandon Barnett Apr 2012
Newport Beach, what is it with this town everybody drives too fast
yeah we all noticed your lime green Ferrari when you sped past you *******
"vanity plates" doesn't begin to describe the aluminum cast egos
"RICHFOX", IGOTABS", "FASTCEO", plates on a Bentley
"My other car is a Land Rovy", "*** I heart ME"
and these stiff ****** walking around in hand tailored three piece suits
they'd have em sewn outta greenback cash if it was weatherproof
three thousand dollar watches on hands reaching into deeper pockets
they've got money clips where their ***** should be but that’s OK
because their personal trainer's just ******* em for their money anyway
I wish I had thought sooner to invest in a Hoover vacuum and some safety glasses
I could've made a fortune having the fat ****** out of their pampered *****
lazy ***** skipping out on two-hundred a month gym passes
or on a treadmill in six hundred dollar Dolce and Gabana glasses

Jealousy isn't my point it's the way they treat me
I roll up a sleeve, show a little ink and suddenly I'm beneath their feet and sinking
it's an interesting cliche the Orange County caste system
I'm an untouchable on the wrong side of the money math's division
I'm lucky to get a Hi, Hello, or How's your morning going
forget about small talk on the elevator it's a capitol offense but in their defense they are pretty busy
Blackberry, cell phone, head set, text the boss, black cherry, compact, secretary's lip gloss
plus they can smell how much my cologne cost and by their looks i just smell filthy without the rich
I don't speak any French but does "couture" mean self-centered *****?

Newport what is it with this town everybody loves themselves too much
they're living life for the corporate success ladder climbing gush
55 at the 5 by the 405 and the 22: the Orange crush
every freeway you ever needed to feel free to live in a huge rush
the reason their sick cars mash six speeds on a German clutch
to hurry up and get to next seasons sales meeting about nothing much

Newport what is it with this town they aren't birthing humans they're breeding the rich
working the counters for the nouveau riche
Newport everyone I've encountered in this town is a self centered *****
Kass Aug 2016
You. I want to paint you. I want your beauty on the tip of my brush, smeared across a canvas so I can see down to your thinnest layer, not just the clump that you were on the bristles. You're a mess. You are oils and colors mixed together on a bumpy sheet, taking forever to dry. People get tired of watching you and they leave. You blame yourself for not drying fast enough, for not having interesting colors, for the bubbles and patches in your paint. I'll stay here and watch you. You are taking forever to dry, but my heart skips a beat every time you catch the light. I lose my breath every time a bit of you falls from the canvas and onto the floor. I tear up when gravity mixes your colors, creating purples and browns and greens. You may mix and change and smear before you dry, and I want to see how beautiful you are when you do.
Simon Mar 2021
They once said that "a piece of cake, is a slice at the beginning your life"...
But is that even true...at the very most end of the spectrum, from which your heart beckons too the very mind that surpluses the very objects (from which is can't find itself in the mess of truthful results), that begin to truly shame the result of even trying to piece things together, time after time...?
NO!
Which are exactly why things don't need to be remembered from right off the bat.
That's because a piece of cake is the truthfully defining reach from which we can't solve the very most bottom remedy from straight out from under our very heartstrings. Heartstrings in the very form of how our very life began. When you were too busy fighting objections too win over your very mind's eye (at the very center of opportunity itself)!
Basically, the very end results, begin with a single fraction of those very "to-do" list heartstrings...that don't truly account for the most interesting of logical finds. Simply put, it literally calls forth (the very claim of one's own arrival) at the very hands of remembering what it was truly like too live again!
Except, when you tasted the very cake that belonged deep in your own heart.
And a heart that is truly beginning anew, again. But with a twist, you see....
Nothing is really the same, after from which you taste this newly found piece of cake, that slices off one end of its own self...and disregards the rest, after the final aftertaste had reclaimed it's own glory.
This is mostly because you think you feel what the mind's eye REJECTS the claim like a chronic storm of results for the such displeasurable spectrum.
Now you know when you slice a piece of cake at the very end of one's own life, and take that slice at the very beginning newly found account...for it is a truly newer start at the very beginning of something entirely new.
A such tasty treat for a definite psychological and philosophical and emotional hunting trip full of joy!
The morning is interesting!

It can also be VERY boring....

However, the fact that i act like i ignore the magic of the morn shows that i am close-minded to something as exciting as opening your eyes to LIFE.

Ever have the feeling of waking up numb?
Waking up oblivious to both the world and your peers?
Boarding up your ears and shutting the shades that cover your eyes because you feel like the morning is as close to the moment before you die?
Trust me.
I CAN understand (or maybe you cant reciprocate with me)

But.....a cup 'o foldgers coffee and a sweet spongy pound cake could take that ****** feeling away and give you an oppurtunity to avoid apathy and floating aimlessly and hatefully through the world.

The caffeine thats currently flowing through me makes me want to create for somebody; ANYBODY for that matter.
Be the cause of laughter after a corny joke i make.
Or maybe just whisper sweet somethings to a beautiful girl that enjoys my corny ways.
What i would like to say to you is....
How are you feeling?
Ayeshah Mar 2010
procrastinating is my hobby,
ask
someone if you don't believe me ,
baby i lay around  
as i please
&
work at my own leisure,
incredibly you fail
to understand i am me

and

i love more then like the way that i am-  gorgeous courageous
coco golden skin,  

painfully
i know you feel the threat of  

my  momentous  appeal  
keeps  
you you & yeah you --  mystified.

guaranteed  your days are filled
with shock and frustration,

haa haa hee

how very exciting to me seeing your not as experienced as  I,

unlicensed  to tame what i'd never give
freely,

repetitiously you've played the game,
failure must be a sweet pill sallowed whole huh?  

adequately i compel my strengths --  my naivety makes
my appeal that more interesting,

call me uniquely imperfections
rarely made in to what  many can never comprehend,

my life is my dialogue to my very own daily soap opera

la di da da--  it's more then my  sultry walk
as i pass you on bye.

in this corrupted jungle
you have to win or be inhibited by  
what others  may call taboos,

whew  weee your so serious,

chasing prey only to tease--  lingering doubts?
catch me--  i bet you can't.

innocently the line's been crossed

yet
speak not of what should be!

only--  this--

is what you'll know ; procrastinating is my hobby!
I Am The Lioness!

(some may be lost on what i wrote&say; but ok lol)

Always Me Ayeshah
Copyright ©
Ayeshah K.C.L.N 1977-Present YEAR(s)
All right reserved
Stereo Joy Jul 2018
For years to come with many days to go
The eyes that follow will show a different side of who you think you know
Although as truthful as they can possibly be
The eyes that follow distort the image of what you see

Every second is cherished but not as interesting
Every single day is lived but not always exciting
Every year shows growth but not always on the best terms

Did I tell you of how I got ****** into great TV?
Broadcasted to everything that has a screen
What you think you know isn't exacty what's behind the scenes
Joni Sep 2018
The cat sits on a mat,
Rather then a hat.
Which belonged to batt
who insisted that he couldn’t stay and chat
As he was trying to buy a flat.

The cat who sat on the mat thought
why I’m I a cat, he said feeling distraught
I’m not interesting at all. All I do is sought
Vengeance on mouse who fought
For a house.
I know longer want to be cat who sits on a mat
Nonsense rhymes
Tatiana May 2018
There are clouds in the sky,
they mass together,
just a thick swath of gray,
that blocks the sun.

I'm walking home,
all by myself,
I've been doing that a lot now,
but it's okay.

I feel the wind pick up,
the dead leaves are swirling
all around me,
like some strange tornado.

A tornado of leaves,
how interesting.
If only the wind would pick me up
and carry me off.

Throughout my windy thoughts,
one raindrop fell,
slowly from my eye
down to my chin.

I felt it fall off my chin.
The wind left a cold chill
on the wet path on my cheek;
it stung.

Then the clouds finally broke down on me.
The rain poured, but I didn't rush to leave.
I walked at the same pace
with my face lifted to the sky.

I don't mind
I don't mind
I don't mind
© Tatiana
Here's a drafted poem from 2014. 4 years ago. Good Lord.
Zulu Samperfas Nov 2012
Anxious, fears flitting in and out, through my head and back again
feeling like I know what it is to stand for the verdict
to live the last few hours on Death Row
And it is only a job, a silly job, a source of income
but this feeling, the same as I had last year when I lost
part of what made the job interesting
but this feeling that I have that I am so often dead on correct about
an intuition that pierces me and sets me on edge
and so often comes true
Maybe I would give up this intelligence, this ability to foresee for a little peace of mind
But no, there can never be too much you know, too much you can see
the water can never be too clear, the view never too deep

Bright white plates are placed at the bottom of Lake Tahoe
to measure the clarity of the water
which is now murkier than in Mark Twain's day
so the plates must be put closer to the surface
and I don't want that
to lose that purity of sensitivity
I only want to be able to know and not fear
So keep the plates where they are
the water remains pure and it has to

You are going to fire me I am nearly sure
I don't deserve it, but I didn't deserve to lose what I lost last year
when I had the same feeling
In my eerie little life
The buildings coated with graffiti
I saw the art in a new light
Because of someone interesting

A girl not much older than myself
Was arrested for an illegal mural
A painting of books upon a shelf
She signed to be seen by all

It wasn't hard for the police
To find the perpetrator
Her name in cursive for all to see
The name of this young decorator

I found her three days later
Painting again upon a fence
I asked why would she put her
Name for police then to trace?

She smiled broadly at me
And answered rather honestly
Because she simply refuses to be
"Living life anonymously."

— The End —