"itry" poems
iM Crushing
iSee Him
iWant Him
iFound Him
iLike Him
iM Shy
iTry To Converse
Instead i Compliment
Flirtatious Comments As He Walks Past Me
IReceive A Request
iTs Him, he Found Me
iS All This Meant to be?
We Begin to get closer
Know More about each other
different ways of communication
Never confronted
Video Games, Social Websites, Sibilings
Finally
A Number
We Start To Text One Another
Every Second Every Minute Every Day
iHardly Know About him
He Hardly knows about me
Might he be into me?
I think Everyday About it.
The more letters
iwrite
The more im becoming to like him
Hes Everything iWanted Since Middle school days
little did i guess
we'd become neighbors
was it fate
iM Crushing
iSee Him
iWant Him
iFound Him
iLike Him
iM Hurting
iM Heartbroken
iM Sad
continued...
Sep 22, 2014
Sep 22, 2014 at 1:15 PM UTC
iRun...
& iCant Seem To Get Away.
iTry Harder to
Escape.
But iTs Still behind me, chasing.
iCant Stop To Catch Some
Air and rest
Its Quick and will get the best
Of me
iHide
Nomatter Whrre, it manages
To Find Me.
Im trying my hardest To get Away
And it always seems to get
Its way back to me
ICry About it
Whispers appear,
They turn into voices, remind me
Of how Much iHate life
And tells me if i stop and hold its
Hand it promises to take all
Misery away
Sep 6, 2014
Sep 6, 2014 at 4:23 PM UTC
True confessions: When I’m High
You all know how one just loves one's morning cup of coffee!
When I’m high,
And morning cuppa’s done the trick,
Slow-ish thyroid smart and quickened,
Then I start;
Choices clear, mind too,
Arms, legs, body knowing
What to do
And even how to do it.
‘High’ sounds utterly,
So totally, so wholly, awfully
So negative.
(Forgive the ‘so’ dear reader, dear.
Its hyperbolic overkill so clearly
The result of coffee).
Back to diplomatic understatement:
When I’m high and un-befuddled,
Elevated in an un-bemuddled way,
In optimal condition where
I share in
Energies that pick and choose
So’s not to lose a time so prime.
And yet, the wonder is,
The mind, which picks and clicks,
Multi-tasking, seeding shortcuts,
Riotous new recipes,
Old elements, new mergers.
Even quiet-less, no-fuss ideas
From made-up phrases that proliferate.
Remembering, selecting, nominating:
High’s amazing!
And it only takes a cup of coffee to a-raise it.
Thus I praise it!
In conclusion:
If there’s been collusion between you and me,
And on some level you agree
I’ve reached the goal of vers-itry,
And these one hundred ninety
Really odd, God given words were worth it,
Then it’s worth, been worth the birth pains and the plod.
True Confessions: When I’m High 3.12.2018 A Sense of The Ridiculous II; Coffee Book II; Arlene Corwin
Mar 12, 2018
Mar 12, 2018 at 2:03 PM UTC