"mallory" poems
I love all of my family
As I always have since birth
Problem is my family has
And may always see me as a Girl
My mom remembers fondly
How I used to love dressing up in pink
But now it seems to bother me,
Like my voice, when I think and speak
I’ve always been a tomBoy
In very single fond memory
I’ve hated being Sister, Small, a Girl, or Mallory
Why can’t it leave Me be
So please, I’m not your Daughter, not one of your Ladies, Sis or Girlfriend
I’m not trying to **** your loved one
Just trying to help you recognize Him
Feb 23, 2019
Feb 23, 2019 at 11:30 AM UTC
There are several approaches to climbing Everest.
Some are easier than some others, none are easy.
This mountain is littered with discarded equipment
and the evidence of loss and unforced errors.
The cold here, at the top of the world,
pierces through your clothes
Like a million acupuncture needles.
The air is so thin
That hypoxia is a constant danger.
There is exhilaration at the summit
For those who reach the top
They stand where Mallory and Irvine stood
before they suffered their fatal drop.
We climb mountains because we are men.
We are addicted to the adrenaline rush.
We climb Everest because it is there.
We climb Everest because we must.
Jul 3, 2017
Jul 3, 2017 at 8:13 AM UTC
Yes.
I remember you
But not your name. Kate? No.
Mallory? No.
I'm sorry.
There's too many faces now.
But I do remember you. Mollie? No.
You were the girl with the blue eyes. Yes.
The girl who wore contacts.
The girl who's eyes are actually a beautiful brown.
Yes you. I saw you. I remembered you.
I wanted to love you madly. Kelsey? No.
You spoke to me about how you're from out of town
But you said you'd move here one day.
With me? No. Emily? No.
******
You'll have to forgive me...
See, I have a photographic memory,
But sometimes the pictures come out blurry.
Here. Let me hold you a second.
I promise it'll come back to me. No? Ok.
Nice try? I know. I've never held you before, but it was worth a try.
But we can start now? No? Ok.
Jenny? No.
Forget it. I don't need to remember.
I love you. Brown-eyed, Blue-eyed, name-less girl.
We don't need names. Why? Because it's really not that important.
Sep 22, 2010
Sep 22, 2010 at 5:05 PM UTC
This Poem is dedicated to the lives lost while climbing the most unforgiving Peaks in the world.
" **"Why did you want to climb Mount Everest? ** "
" Because it's there. "
George Leigh Mallory 1923
Eyes stinging,I'm facing up to the test,
realising that this could could be the death of me yet,
take a peek at the peak from under my hood,
life sapping winds leech heat from blood.
*Of a lesser one maybe,but me no never,
take the pace easy,got to box clever*
As the hurricane howls I know I can't sweat,
if you do you lose heat,that's the kiss of death,
push endurance to the max through the **** zone,
keep your mind right cause you're on your own,
*stay positive,already faced K2,
Savage Mountain behind me,time for take two*
taking on the monster,most unforgiving,
Goddess of the sky,sacrifices the living,
of the ones who tried 9% have died,
Sagarmatha- I say a silent prayer for their lives.
Don't want my name on the roll of the lost,
souls wandering the peak like a host of ghost's,
**save a thought for the Sherpa's,unflinching guides,
without whom the attempt is sheer suicide**
Is it Vanity?, Ego? that pushes us to climb,
the 8 thousand plus defy man and time
I can't answer-even though I know the ledge
all I know is life's sweeter when you're on the edge,
of the precipice the gap between life and death
preserve your oxygen-steal each breath,
Born risk taker- adrenaline drug of choice,
free-dived blue hole,flew Carl's walls heights,
but this is the big one,can't take fright-
or I'll be frozen like a statue,by the dawn's cold light,
point of no return strength got to summon it,
whole life leads to the push for the summit."
Apr 4, 2016
Apr 4, 2016 at 2:22 PM UTC
I want to know you
I want to be your friend,
you asked me why
because you're different
I know I can trust you
Oct 14, 2014
Oct 14, 2014 at 12:21 AM UTC
Jennifer didn't get enough sleep last night. She was up until 3 AM writing a book report. She just finished her fourth cup of coffee with cream and extra sugar. She's starting to get the shakes.
Bobby fidgets nervously in an unnaturally comfortable seat in the waiting room of Dr. Stein's office. He got drunk last weekend and decided it would be a good idea to have *** with a girl who's known among as friends as "The Town Bus." She's a rather large girl whom almost everyone Bobby knows has had a go with. Bobby does his best to resist the urge to relieve the itch centered around his nether regions that introduced itself two days ago. He resists the urge successfully and continues to squirm in his seat. He's starting to get the shakes.
Ian looks down at the empty black garbage bag on the floor in front of him. He turns his head to his right and peers into his shadow-ridden closet. He thinks about the girl he met at the park last night. Her name was Mallory and she had such beautiful brown hair and blue eyes. Ian picks up the empty garbage bag and pushes back rows and rows of other bags, hanging neatly and silently in his closet. They're all filled, so Ian has to muster all of his strength to push them to the end of the rack pole. He mounts the empty garbage bag onto a hanger and hangs it next to the rest. Mallory, sweet Mallory wafts into his thoughts again. Ian runs his hand down the smooth black plastic, hanging solemnly, and empty, before him. It tells him it's disappointed. It tells him it's hungry. Ian hasn't killed anyone in three weeks. He purses his lips and looks down at his hands. He's starting to get the shakes.
Feb 21, 2013
Feb 21, 2013 at 3:54 PM UTC
January 16, 1990, The day my life began to know true love. The anticipation rose with every contraction that came. I couldn't wait to put a face with her name. When she arrived, she stole the heart of every person that seen her. Her hair at birth fit perfectly in a little pink bow and she had the face of an angel. Not one flaw did my baby girl have, as she entered this world almost perfect. Her eyes, the most captivating blue but with a unique black line defining them. Never at my young age, just turning 20, had my heart felt more joy and love as it did holding my precious daughter, Mallory Ann, asking myself how something so perfect in every way could be mine. As she grew, she was as bright as she was beautiful. Advanced in every aspect of her fast developing life. Time wouldn't slow down and before I knew it, there she stood in her prom dresses, next her cap and gown. My baby girl was all grown up now and just as beautiful as the day she was born. Growing up very close, sharing everything together, I never dreamed there would come the day, I never seen it coming , my baby girl walked away. I went from being her only support that was by her side every day to a woman she grew to despise some where along the way. She was mom to her son at a very young age, I helped her the best I could or all she would let me, until she then to took my grandson away. I have missed out on his precious life and God knows I've made mistakes in my life but nobody is perfect needless to say. But when I look at her and the things she likes and the way she looks, it's like a mirror of a young version of me, I miss her and my little Roo every minute of every day, I think of how wonderful it would be to have them in my life again, but the one that wronged her and was never there gets her forgiveness and love while I remain her worst memory as she sees no good in me and doesn't remember all the sacrifices and love and the teaching of morals and respect she was taught, for it hurts my heart as the credit goes to other people in her life I can stand today and know the truth and feel the hurt and pain and the loss because the day will come when I'm no longer here and I won't feel the loneliness any longer. I only know I love and miss her and my grandson more and more every day . When the good Lord calls me home that's when the pain will go away
May 5, 2018
May 5, 2018 at 7:05 PM UTC
They run down corridors, penetrate
Eardrums, tympanic membranes vibrating
Sounds of whispered ignorantia, injected
In minds, spewed out of unclosing mouths.
Actively engaged in spreading the word,
As meticulous news reporters committed
To divulge, unfounded information, undercover
Agents passing off as martyrs compelled,
To fulfil their duties pretending
To reluctantly execute a social service, yet,
No one knows whether the lady down
The street truly cheated, nor if her daughter
Also slept with the alleged lover, while
The audience is convinced and has convicted
The adultery of the first sentencing the second,
To shame and long-lasting denigrating fame.
The punishment assigned to the free walking
Defendants, found guilty by a jury of their peers,
A public court rising to judge an offence
Sickly existing merely in those insinuating
Voices, inundating the tribunal corridors
Of the neighbourhood, the city, the world,
Tv and the web. Leaving the only words
That count engraved in marble, epitaph
On the tombstone of a suicidal man,
‘In loving memory of Mallory Dupe.
Beloved husband of Helen and loving
Father to Giselle. Shamelessly killed
By rumours. No redemption granted.’
Nov 10, 2017
Nov 10, 2017 at 2:40 AM UTC
Dear Daisy Dilly Dalley
You noticed I wrote Dilly Dally,
It's because I've been to large valleys,
Roamed through the darkest alleys,
Saw exquisite masterpiece in art galleries,
Met people named Margaret and Mallory
But I still can't address you as Daisy Buchanan.
The green light across the pier still flickers
And even though I bicker
with my subconscious state of mind,
I wonder, is this luxury life-
worth living without you?
Without you by my side?
The green light is but a taunt now,
saying go- yet at the same time
creating a tension in my heart-
saying this.....
will never happen.
Please come back to me,
or at least write a letter back to me-
Give my best to Tom as well...
Love you always,
Jay Gatsby
Apr 8, 2016
Apr 8, 2016 at 8:38 PM UTC
Mallory Whitman sits across from me as I eat my soup I move to the counter with a mirror, peek up, see myself writing, and tell myself "I am Mallory Whitman"
May 7, 2013
May 7, 2013 at 3:21 PM UTC
"Hey wanna play a game like old times?"
*doesnt look up from her phone
"Mallory? Are you there?"
looks up, "huh? Wait what?"
The moment I begin to talk again,
Her eyes are consumed in the blue screen of 'her phone'
I shouldn't call it 'her phone'
Because the phone owns her.
Shut up and stop giving excuses like:
Oh I'm just catching up or,
Gotta get homework with friends or,
Hold up sec I promise...
I loved the excuse you gave today
"I'm just catching up with family"
What about ME?! Am I not your family?!
I'm your freaking sister!
But you sure as hell don't wanna catch up with me!
So.. How's your life been? All fine in group texts?
What about Instagram am I missing anything?
I'm so glad your perfectly content as if you have everything
As if all you need is in that slender rectangle of magic
Well you don't have one thing... ME!!!
I still want to play and hang out with you
I'm older. Normally that means I don't give a ****
Well not this big sis. I give one.
And everyday it pains me to see you sinking deeper
Into your hole of addiction. You it isn't. It is.
Even momma refers to you as a phone addict.
Your searching so desperately to find happiness in a screen
When all you need to do is look up at me staring right over you!
I've always waited patiently but now...
I think you aren't coming back to me.
The point is.. I Miss You.
Mar 27, 2014
Mar 27, 2014 at 10:26 PM UTC
Still a dangerous emcee once I set my feet in the industry
Exposing used to be homies now they wanna kill.me
But can't still.me I keep the techs on me
Just incase I gotta capture another soul makin' eternity
Placin' urns round me Cuz they soon to burn
To ashes smoke the greenest grass from Shannon Ireland
This captain ain't hiring
only killers I be admirin' y'all flows expirin'
Once the sirens sounding another Emcees gets a pounding
Heads covered with ***** plastic bags
Poked holes soon to be drowning
Fools tellin' jokes but you don't see me clowning
Only money and guns I trust so that's my surrounding
A King like Arthur I be the author
Sealin' emcees chapter takes notes for the rapture
Kidnapped ya team flashplay scenes Bones become fractured
Once I roll over weak emcees like a tractor
Major factor to this game
We ain't no actors
Flippin' heads With my metal spatula
Communicating to y'all with the street vernacular
My personality evil as Mallory
Natural born killers
Intincts is what inspires me
Who better than me?
My flows poisonous like Ivy
Got more brothers than Isley
Summer breeze with me
Heat is what ya catching from me
My guns Rip through skin cells so rapidly
Paint murders so vividly graphically
They'll remember me I'll be
Notorious like B-I-G
Fools dry lookin' all thirsty
Sips bottles of the Dom Perry
**** Governor Perry we bake more dough than Pillsbury
Rolls so know ya role or else get the barrel to ya temple
Executions made Iraqi style so how?
You gone disconnect the dial?
Deaths is callin' soon to be fallin'
With the rest of the Angels
That we had to fuckin' strangle
Don't matter the point or angle
Fools chained like Django hop in the Black Tahoe we got deals for sure
I'm.hustlin night and day like Al B Sure
We choke out competition like Latrell
Make heaven out of hell never see a jail cell
Money lookin' too good I'm feelim' Richie
Chillin' at the top mobbin' like Big Paulie
Dec 21, 2017
Dec 21, 2017 at 8:52 PM UTC
“When I was younger, I thought all I wanted was to be alone. Cramped in that two-bedroom house with my parents and siblings, with no space to think or to even take a **** without someone knocking on the door. I wanted to go to college just because I thought I needed space–space to breathe and to become my own person.”
“And now?” Mallory asked. Each word that left her mouth wrote itself across the pitch black of December and I stared at each letter until I could not only make sense of the question, but to realize the answer.
“And now I realize that my own person is someone that I don’t like very much.”
The words were as unkind slipping off my tongue as they were sitting in the back of my mind. Now they’ve materialized, holding an undeniable presence and their heavy aftertaste made my stomach turn.
I don’t know if I was looking for sympathy. If I was waiting for her to reassure that I was in fact not a terrible human being. That her company is not a polite obligation. But she sat there saying nothing, and that was louder than anything she could have said out loud. I looked to my right, at the woman I wordlessly fell in love with. Her blank stare into the dimly lit street below pushing me farther and farther away and suddenly I felt the need to say anything to anchor me to her before she drifted too far away.
“I left. And I get that it was my choice, but there was no way I could be satisfied staying in this town for the rest of my life like everyone else. Moving to a city where I knew absolutely no one; it was a change. I went from speaking to the same people everyday for four years to not saying a single word for multiple days in a row. I couldn’t be gentle anymore; I couldn’t be vulnerable. And if that makes me a bad person, then I guess I am. But I did it to survive. You can’t criticize me for my methods to survive knowing you.”
Jul 17, 2017
Jul 17, 2017 at 12:39 AM UTC
The tale of Mallory
Mallory,The cursed kid
Surrounded by monsters
Followed by death
Drenched in blood
She swallowed darkness And darkness swallowed her
She cursed the day she was born
Mallory, The cursed kid
She was obsessed with
The moon, that serenade her obsession!
The song,that calmed her chaos!
The meal,she once had as a child with her parents!
The game,she used to play with her friends!
Mallory,she was obsessed with everything that could make her feel alive
But she had to let go
She was cursed to say goodbye to all
To The moon,
To The song,
To her parents,
To her friends,
Mallory, she was Cursed
Cursed to be alone,
Cursed to not be loved,
Cured to not be cherished,
Cursed to urge,
Cursed to regret,
Cursed to grieve,
Mallory,the cursed kid
Looking up into the sky
Lying on her back while listening music on grass
Made her feel worthless in a way that mattered so much
The illusion of self realization
She believed her existence was an ill omen
She wished to disappear to stop this cycle of misfortunes
Her life felt like a cage without an exit
Her life that felt like a burden
Floating endlessly in a blank space
Filled with darkness
Floating in despair
Feeling empty inside
She wished to come to nothing
Just like when a star explodes and turn into a black hole
Like she never existed
Her breath,her laugh,her cries,her pain,her life
It never happened
That she never belonged anywhere
Mallory, the cursed kid
Who was never there
That there was never a tale to tell
The tale of Mallory
Mar 29, 2021
Mar 29, 2021 at 3:49 AM UTC
I am not in Kansas,
I can’t stand but I am dancing
Atop table counters at the mall,
Crying out in every bathroom stall.
Razor blades take lucid shapes,
Cut it all out, but save the rage,
Compress it into a can of air;
Forget where you are and why you’re there.
Freeze my lungs and burn my lips
In the grasp of your fingers’ tips.
Arizona is slipping away
My shoulder’s ink just fades and fades,
I am not in Kansas,
I got lost off where the sunset beckons,
Oh it’s calling to me,
In between all my lost ideas.
It’s been a while since I’ve bought a dress,
Or gotten a pack of cigarettes
Then burnt them and inhaled the ashes.
Now I just see ghosts of ghosts,
And can’t recall the words I spoke
Years ago to Mallory Olson,
**** it I killed my memory.
You gave me all of your mom’s liquor,
When I started getting a little too sober;
Oh I would’ve spun so hard,
I would’ve fallen so hard,
Jumping the fence to my backyard,
I am not in Kansas,
I got lost off where the sunset beckons,
Oh it’s calling to me,
In between all my lost ideas.
The ceiling only ever danced for you,
I was just happy to have a room,
Away from my home and family,
I liked the fire more than all the trees,
They all spoke to me in prophecy,
College degrees, wives, sons and daughters,
Each day destiny’s a little farther.
I left you where I met you,
With pyrite and a tattoo;
The flowers cover over all the scars,
Darling, the flowers cover everything,
The flowers will cover over everything.
I am not in Kansas,
I got lost off where the sunset beckons,
Oh it’s calling to me,
In between all my lost ideas.
May 27, 2019
May 27, 2019 at 6:17 PM UTC
her seductive voice
and a forbidden love
the black and white photo:
2 men smiling
gaberdine coats and hobnailed boots
the delighted dance in their eyes
the intriguing puzzle
finely woven into their subtle smiles
of wind and lightning and snow
they have heard
the goddess of the sky
and she beckons,
COME
her beauty, cold and captivating
snow and vanishing hopes
and into the silence of no turning back
for king and country
climb high or die
the black and white photo
2 men
smiling
2 men smiling
about something
few men
will ever know
Mallory and Irving disappearing into the clouds.
Apr 8, 2024
Apr 8, 2024 at 11:39 AM UTC