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ogdiddynash Jul 2018
helping the kids with homework


no one told you,
was part of the job description
paycheck earner a-ok,
gruff but tender lover,
knowing her special places,
building a tree swing,
a tree house safe and satisfactory,
one the neighbors envy

taking them to the hospital for
broken arms and chemotherapy,
part two of the non-routine but a very possible foreseeable,
going to school to give that principal a look
that will make him think twice before suspending
one of his for defending himself

you remember your daddy doing the same for you,
forgetting to repeat the tar and hiding that came later

the tucking in, the pretense ouch
when your end of day
scratchy beard ruffling the skin of babies,
carrying tissues in a toolbox,
never heard of, nevertheless done,
tho not a memory defining the future inclusive,
definitely a learning ability, a likeability

doing homework, nuh uh,
no way jose, don’t dare let them
know how you never got a gold star,
always sat in the back row, outta sight,
all day dreaming, chemistry rhymes with mystery,
and poetry is rhymes needing a big vocabulary
which means lots of words for a man who don’t talk much

ain’t exactly his strong suit

sure, heard of Shakespeare but never met him,
know where the on/off computer button hides,
the rest is up to them;
got no email address, but taught them sir and ma’am,
how to address humans with respect,

i’ll promise them anything
but not doing any homework,
unless it the kind that that makes

a home work
#homework
PJ Poesy Apr 2016
Dragona Radic hated her name for as long as she could remember. So obviously different than the Mary Butlers, and Ginny Gormans she grew up with in Flavor Town. Even Myrtle Feinstein seemed to be given a more applicable name to live in Flavor Town to Dragona’s mindset. Life was hard for Dragona in Flavor Town. Especially, when at twelve she began to grow a moustache. Living in Flavor Town wasn’t easy for anyone really, but to Dragona it was shear torture. Susie Choo became her best friend for more reasons of default than likeability. Being the only other girl with as much a non-conformable name as Dragona, Susie Choo’s distaste for her was equal. Still, Dragona Radic and Susie Choo formed an alliance, for what else were they to do living in Flavor Town. Flavor Town was a brand of the most delightful 56 flavors of ice-cream ever made, as well as the name of their hometown. You would think in Flavor Town diversity would be celebrated as much as variety. This sadly was not so. In America, you can find all 56 flavors of Flavor Town’s delectable frozen concoctions at any Buck Shops Here grocery outlets. Yet, little may you know of the atrocities occurring in Flavor Town, and what Dragona Radic and Susie Choo were about to do about it?
worm Feb 2020
tired so tired why can’t i just be a woman why can’t i just be comfortable with she why can’t i just be ok with “girl” why can’t i look at pictures with long hair and dresses and recognize a person why do i have to see my body  bare and uncovered and feel sick why can’t i say the words even to myself.

my identity is based around likeability and avoidance of change i can’t even say i am it’s all “i think” “i might” “maybe i’m” when i know ******* well that i am or at least what i sure am not
and the thought of requesting people to call me something different or even make a change known makes me want to hurl and i can never find the words or the courage so i must continue hearing even my closest friends go on using She and Girl and even the few who know even the only one who knows in person who has expressed full support and willingness to change who has loved me before and will not stop i am afraid to ask to use different words



am i so destined to suffer? will i face this fear and challenge for ever? will i ever be able to look at my chest and torso and not be filled with disgust and will i ever be able to loudly and proudly assert who i am? never have i been ashamed but will i ever allow myself to be Proud?
i was struggling with my gender a bit last night and wrote this.
Bows N' Arrows Jan 2016
****
I'm covered in fears-
They are broken down in my bones
I fear I've lost someone
Not to be dramatic but the
Cataclysmic quakes in my
Ribcage beating like static say
Otherwise.
Maybe I'm more lost than I knew
Maybe I'm the one out of all
Of those who love you and out of
All of those who hate you that
Will hurt you the most
Maybe I'm not me right now
I'm someone else
But
Who were we on that silver
Night When we first met
Now I just feel like ****
I feel like I was breathed
In and spit back out
When nothing was real why didn't
We dance?
When everything turned we fell
Apart
At least what little likeability
I thought I had
And for a few moments everything
Was one
It all made sense at the end
Of my tongue
These words that **** the numb
Expression when my voice is too
Shaky to carry through ripples
But words are only words
( Or so someone told me.)
It was the best worst night
It's like
When you said you didn't care
About anything anymore
At first those declarations
Hung clear but later
Became much darker to my
Ears to hear you say
And it became the darkest
Early morning
I'll be you're guide
Through heaven and hell like
When I say "I do care"
Lead you through labyrinths
And the river Styx
Into the swarthy wings of
The cherubim's gate's
I do care.
Ella Downing Mar 2019
Appetiser
-
A fresh, hot glance in the mirror

To start
-
A lingering feeling of fat-shame served on a bed of between-wash hair with a  dash of blemishes

Main
-
An overture of ovulating positivity, a feeling of unfiltered joy and self-love.
Braisen confidence with likeability

Amuse bouche
-
Insufferable indecision

Dessert
-
A sharp (too sharp) sting of sarcasm washed down with a sweet apology chaser.
James Nigh Dec 2014
each in its own place.

we divide the constants by zero.

we were never good at math
but the revenge-cycle took it's toll.

1... 2... 3...
who is better?
you or me?

prove it by likeability.

the one who wants attention more wins.

but who wins The Game in the big picture?

i did everything right

and i will continue to do so
no matter how much it damns me.

it must mean something
somewhere.
Anais Vionet Mar 22
I dreamed my way here
I’ve had my cringe moments
I feel pressure, I lose perspective
I’ve wholeheartedly failed
I misspeak, underthink, overreact
I try to do the right thing
the right thing isn’t always clear
I’ve tried to hold on
I’ve let go with grace
I’ve charged ahead
I’ve stepped aside
I self-sabotage, then try to do better
I’ve self-consciously retreated
I’ve stood up for others
I’ve backed down and apologized
I’ve rinsed and repeated
I’m a chameleon, but I’ve never been perfect
I’ve under-reacted to challenges
I’ve overreacted to the ordinary
I devalue likeability
I indulge the language of play
I share my human experience
I don’t know what else to say.
Mateuš Conrad Jul 2017
in a dinosaur park of vinyl and quicksilver, talking:
music is the one area of gratification i can't be
pretentious about... if i have a critique of a music,
my critique rests upon the words:
i just don't listen to it.

i how people hate phil collins -
i love their dogmatic abhorrance
of him -
oh believe, i'm not a major fan:
i'm a major fan of people who
are pretentious enough
to despise decent pop music -
and given it's pop: well, its either
cotton candy - or *******
in terms of having no anti-bodies
to combat the viral infection of
immediate likeability -
it just comes with the music...
     no, i'm not a major phil collins
fan, i'm a major fan of the people
who despise him out of "principle"
that leads them to the music
circus of obscurity and indie-wingy;
but i dare say...
       what did peter gabriel after leaving
genesis?
          exactly what phil collins did
to *genesis
: he made it accessible...
and when did jazz mingle with
prog rock? well... miles davis' *******
brew
...
     never mind...
   fair enough, hate phil collins...
          i love it!
            but the album
                     no jacket required
is a stunner, as an album,
not for any particular song...
but lets face it...
   all the people who hate this take
on pop... can you imagine them
reading the most difficult (that's being
nice, it's actually just ****** tedious)
book ever written, i.e. thomas mann's
doctor faustus?
   i don't think so...
         that **** is harder to read than
kant!
             and i'm giving you a bet
with that: if you can finish
      that **** thing
you'll rescue von kleist from
the suicide pact he made
   with a terminally
ill woman and the despair of reading
kant's critique: that's a bet!
     no, whenever i hear the monkish
critique of phil collins...
  i think of listening
to early genesis, notably the album
foxtrot...
                    now i'd love to see these
critics listen to that album,
from beginning to the end...
                      by current standards
(namely albums, roughly going beyond
the threshold of sales, i.e.
                    the 30 minute mark)
one song off foxtrot could be a
classified as a e.p. in its own right -
      supper's ready -
        2 seconds short of 23minutes;
in all honesty, they don't have the *****
to listen to that track...
   i'd love to seem them try...
the minute they listen to it...
phil collins will seem like an ice-cream,
a quickie of receiving selfish oral ***...
trust me...
                 oh no, i'm not a major
phil collins fan, just came across his
out of nostalgia...
           but peter gabriel wasn't
exactly an angel when it came to his solo
career...
                 then again:
that song selling england by the pound:
now that's ******* prophetic these days...
who owns all the newly constructed
flats in london?
  foreign investors:
   chinese, arab, nigerian; you name it!
The drunk

When drunk he is expansive tell jokes
Others find insulting give vent for his opinions
That is not asked for; suddenly he is offended
With what someone said and with drunken
Dignity leaves.
When he is sober, he much regrets what
He had said the day before and walk
In streets strange in the hope of not meeting
Anyone he knows they will see him for what
he is a rather modest, shy man who never
Grasps it is what people prefer, his likeability
and not the opinionated drunk with a bottle
of beer in his hands.
Janna B Apr 29
Here I stand
or lie
or sleep.

All the work to get here,
and the feelings feel
embarrassing,
self indulgent.
I want to hide them,
yet they keep returning.

I’ve worked through an ex.
I’ve sorted the mortgage.
Therapy for the trauma
(The trauma! Ridiculous!)
am out the other side…
still navel gazing.

About the rest of it.
The choices
the job
the restlessness.
Likeability, life purpose.

And just now,  
you’ve made me laugh
and laugh and laugh.
Thank you.

— The End —