"marla" poems
Shannon, Mariah, Serena, Maria
Meridia, Midian, Sharon, Alliah
Rochelle, Camille, Rose, Halo
Trenna, Jessica, Ashley, Georgia
Marla, Olivia, Sofia, India
Daniella, Diana, Christina, Caroline
Isabella, Amelia, Amanda, Matilda
Nadine, Haley, Bailey, Francine
Eliza, Annabelle, Kathryn, Sandra
Melinda, Audrey, Aubrey, Emily
Tara, Emma, Ginny, Kathleen
Josephine, Helena, Charlotte, Laura
Chelsea, Arkady, Megan, Kelsey
Kayla, Karliah, Moana, Vivien
Kaysea, Macy, Stacy, Lorraine
Theresa, Felicia, Cecilia, Darlene
Holly, Brianna, Alexa, Ariel
Marianne, Miranda, Jennie, Coral
Korra, Daisy, Penelope, Rayne
Zoey, Cassandra, Grace, Stephanie
Jul 27, 2013
Jul 27, 2013 at 12:34 AM UTC
I am tired of being an empty shell that you find beautiful & eccentric.
I am tired of being a trope made by authors and directors.
I am like war and peace and not like a tissue paper you made me out to be.
I am tired of being your favourite shade of red.
I am tired of being a brush stroke, when I am the entire painting.
I am tired of being pinned to a pedestal.
I am tired of my existence and my name being relative.
I am tired of being a zany sidekick to the male protagonist in the movie that is my life.
I am tired of you thinking that I need help stilling the edges of my narrative, who longs for a tether or a buoy to keep her from flying off or sinking down.
I am tired of being told – unconventional, different and other such synonyms by boys, that I am not like other girls as if they are a disease and I am magic.
I am tired to be known as someone with wacky quirks and idiosyncrasies.
I am tired of being Alaska Young.
I am tired of being Sam from The Perks of Being a Wallflower.
I am tired of being Tiffany from The Silver Linings Playbook.
I am tired of being tagged as Sam from Garden State.
Or even Marla Singer from Fight Club.
Or even an Amelie or Penny from Almost Famous.
And every Zooey Deschanel character.
I am a Clementine.
I’m a Sylvia Plath.
I’m a Dorothy Parker.
A Maya and a Margaret.
You see, I am well versed
in death and in silence.
I have my interests and I am like all of the above. But I am “like” them. I am not them.
I am me.
I am scared now.
Scared of boys claiming to be wrapped in barbed wire
but is really a caged petting animal in the zoo.
I am tired of boys who thinks romance is a Hemingway novel.
But, most importantly I am tired.
Tired of men not falling in love with me
but instead falling in love with the idea of me.
Nomoreokaythankyouplease.
Dec 30, 2014
Dec 30, 2014 at 3:22 AM UTC
Peter got a sandwich for you.
mama went shopping ,
Gabriel needs a carwash,
Cristen choked on his ***** ,
Iris sailed the oceans,
Blake died of ennui.
Martha blew her neighbour,
Adrian stole her *******
Beth went out of liquor,
Walter cooked a new batch.
Marla is a ******
Gambit dealt a new pack.
And so and so they pass by
All these million names.
Who cares to blink twice
At a facecless face?
And then came eh...! wry dry, Dont **** Me, " ... " I can't even
Say his name.
It's like this name
Blew my heart out with a shotgun
right through my rib cage.
And these are the names
Which pierce your heart
And make you breathless
Because they hold stories
That you always hid in darkness.
And
You have skeletons In your
Closet
Like thats not enough
To give you the brain flu!
But the salt on the wound
Is that-
so does your wife,
Your mistress,
And everyone around you.
(gunshot)
Apr 6, 2014
Apr 6, 2014 at 7:00 AM UTC
*And suddenly I realized that all of this,
The gun, the bombs, the revolution
Has got something to do
With a girl named Marla Singer.*
Cornelius, Rupert, Travis, Tyler Durden
Who could really tell how many are we in a single body?
Mind creating multiple personas, good or bad
Or both could mean the same thing,
A label, a name as it is,
Could mean something or nothing
***And there could always be a Tyler Durden
The Bold and Free, The Enlightened one***
We see ourselves as we’d like to be
Good or Bad? Again, we decide what is right
Founder of our own fellowship
For our own Project Mayhem
For a girl named Marla Singer..
What again is a Project Mayhem?
***All I know is…
First and Second Rule:
You do not ask questions about PROJECT MAYHEM.***
Apr 25, 2017
Apr 25, 2017 at 12:15 PM UTC
I feel like at the end of Fight Club where the narrator and Marla
are holding hands staring out the window
watching the financial institutions explode and crumble
all that destruction
not gazing through the glass but staring at our reflections
Jul 28, 2015
Jul 28, 2015 at 9:13 PM UTC
kiss me
(says he, maybe she)
cut up on the sharpness
of lips
and teeth
she is that thing -
about plastic flowers;
they never wilt on you
and stay young
and beautiful
as long as you care to see them
kiss me
like real people
do
when they touch
don’t quiver
or glimmer
just bruise like decayed fruit
and bleed as freely
and the flowers,
plastic flowers -
smelling just as sweet
with sprays of perfume
sweating
ugly juniper fragrance
dripping
down spines
like dew
**** me*
she says, definitely she says
spread legs,
wide open eyes
to creep inside him
(or him, perhaps)
and she could
with her fingers
stop his breath
and she might
if the light
hits his eyes just right
burning flowers
smells worse when plastic
like explosives
like fat in a deep-fryer
crisping like
bodies in a burning house
- three bodies, two bodies, and a burning house
**** me*
like a litany
**** me*
like you promised me
**** me*
in fields of plastic peonies
*just
**** me*
and
you’ll love me
you’ll see
Jul 8, 2015
Jul 8, 2015 at 9:37 AM UTC
Tiffany Trump has been viewed as the least known of Donald Trump’s children. The 23-year-old, who was raised separately from her siblings and made a late appearance on the presidential campaign trail, has been dubbed the “forgotten” Trump.
All the same, this has not made her exempt from the fury of her father’s detractors. This could be most clearly glimpsed during New York Fashion Week where there were reports the President’s second youngest child had been snubbed by fashion writers.
Former Wall Street Journal style columnist Christina Binkley shared a photo of Ms Trump sitting with two empty seats beside her, saying: "Nobody wants to sit next to Tiffany Trump at Philipp Plein, so they moved and the seats by her are empty”.
Fortunately for Ms Trump, who is the billionaire developer’s only daughter from his second marriage to Marla Maples, Whoopi Goldberg swooped in to save the day.
Despite the fact Goldberg has been an outspoken critic of Mr Trump, she suggested it was unfair for anger at his policies to be directed at Ms Trump given she was simply there to enjoy the catwalk.
"You know what Tiffany? I'm supposed to go to a couple more shows. ... I'm coming to sit with you," Goldberg said on The Viewwhich she hosts on ABC on Wednesday.
"Because nobody is talking politics at the [shows], you're looking at fashion! She doesn't want to talk about her dad. She's looking at the fashion!"
Goldberg, who previously said she would leave America if Mr Trump became President, argued the incident was "mean”, saying: "Girl, I will sit next to you because I've been there where people say, 'Ooh, we're not going to sit next to you. I'll find your a*se and sit next to you."
Fashion writer, Binkley, has now said Ms Trump was not actually snubbed at the show. She said the seats remained unoccupied for two minutes or less and the first daughter seemed unaware of what was going on.
Nevertheless, Nikki Ogunnaike, senior fashion editor at Elle, said the actual show started late due to frenzied last minute seating change, with editors at the show “fleeing” so they would not have to sit around Ms Trump. The tweets made headlines, with fashion designer, Plein, even weighing in to defend her by saying she is not a “politician” and merely a “teenager”.
Ms Trump, who thanked Goldberg for her show of support on Twitter, was raised separately from the other Trump siblings. She moved to California at the age of five and was brought up by her mother, Ms Maples, while her father and siblings were based in New York.
In a 2015 interview, Ms Trump said of her father: “I don’t know what it’s like to have a typical father figure. He’s not the dad who’s going to take me to the beach and go swimming, but he’s such a motivational person.”Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com/cocktail-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/red-carpet-celebrity-dresses
Feb 17, 2017
Feb 17, 2017 at 11:35 PM UTC
good bad girl. fight like a boy. tsunami driftwood. raincloud no silver lining, where lightning strikestwice. bare feet hot cement. kidnapped girl in the polaroid. let me check my schedule. curiosity...cat. eggshells. prescription candy. thru the looking glass. holden red hunting cap. tyler/jack. why ophelia never learned to swim. hold my scissorhands. Drucilla. natural disaster. scartissue love tattoo addiction pain dissociation association. carrie bradshaw's evil twin. holly-go-lightly meets courtney love. wednesday adams grows up. marla singer's song. bad dreamer. caufield's wet dream, cobain sympatico. makes sid viscious look tame, e. edward grey esq.& miss. holloway synthesis. the white rabbit. igby. anti-heroine, captain jack's sparrow. temptation/seduction/truth cliffhanger. ticking sleep bomb, roman candle(lit). spilled milk guilt. poppy field dreamer. cafeconleche. waternymph/siren/pixie, hideandseeker. riotgrrlchild. fallen angel-demons beware. blindfoldedandbound,if swallowed contact doctor immediately. good veins. contagious, mixedbreed badmanners. moodswinger. shadowboxer. wrong side of the tracks. superlowrisepunkass. theonemamawarnedyouabout, chaoscalamity&charisma;, irresiatible&incorrigible;, neverlearnedmy lesson. kneehighs and runners thighs. handlewithcare. klepto-crinalin and hypno-medicine, tomboy/schoolgirl. skeptickeyebrow. dirty-flirty. cherrybombpocketpacker, hardcandy. sociopathsister. victim of my own past. hunter/hunted. bootstrap-trapped. is that my blood? just a minute while i reinvent myself.
i’d like to meet:
everyone i have forgotten and everyone who has forgotten me
Feb 23, 2016
Feb 23, 2016 at 7:33 AM UTC
forty two kisses were placed on a note
which had been sent to Miss Marla Mote
whence she opened the note she was most surprised
as all the kisses were terribly undersized
she crumpled the note up without haste
and threw it into the paper bin waste
so disappointed was she to find kisses so small
being sent to her by that miserly man from Frobisher Hall
he never much liked writing anything in bold print
as the ink would cost him a fortune and keep him forever skint
forty two small kisses from that miserly man at Frobisher Hall
did of Miss Marla Mote's heart greatly appall
Mar 8, 2013
Mar 8, 2013 at 7:07 PM UTC
Her hips sway in my mesmerized mind.
Porcelain drapes to hide the shade of war torn beauty.
I will expect cigarettes and black lungs but will love you still.
Silky, pale skin draped over her lovely bones.
When the chalk meets faceless smiles.
I will expect shades of grey and a soundtrack to a ****
They say to find another vessel is to never die alone.
and that when you find another heart you will find a new home.
But for now only steel and stone accept my love.
and the branches that grow from my soul are cut down to the stump.
So we will open the flood gates our youth and crawl back inside
Open the flood gates and begin to divide.
for everything we love has grown so cold.
for everything we love is broken and getting old.
Waiting for you to open your tobacco scorn lips, sown together lips.
And readying myself to be new again.
Mar 21, 2012
Mar 21, 2012 at 5:46 AM UTC
forty two kisses were placed on a note
which had been sent to Miss Marla Mote
when she opened the note she was most surprised
as all the kisses were terribly undersized
she crumpled the note up without haste
and threw it into the paper bin waste
so disappointed was she to find kisses so small
being sent to her by that miserly man from Frobisher Hall
he never was one for writing anything in BOLD PRINT
as the ink would have cost him a fortune and kept him forever skint
forty two small kisses from the miserly man at Frobisher Hall
did of Miss Marla Mote's heart greatly appall
Apr 15, 2013
Apr 15, 2013 at 6:46 PM UTC
I tried to not take us
so seriously because
in the wake of a long
stream of non-commital
commitments, I've
begun to understand
how intense I become
when someone matters
to me on a personal level,
that's why I left you alone
when I found out about Marla
and Darla and Carla and all
of the Lala's that you ******
and then you decided to be
different for a day (let's be honest.
more like five minutes tops)
and you found yourself
with the proud and loud
feminist, Mandie with *an
i-e* in your bed and I keep
telling myself, *it's not the
feminists fault that she likes
men. This man. My man.*
And so I decided un-invite you
to the party I'll be throwing
for you in honor of you
being accepted into so and so
acting program in the city.
I'll drink everything they
bring for you, **** everyone
that only loves you. I'll
leave your car beneath
some distant bridge,
**** your boss and
and take me a little more.
It's not your fault I didn't
take us seriously.
It's not your fault
the feminist liked
you more than me.
Aug 26, 2014
Aug 26, 2014 at 3:50 PM UTC
On my money
Deep in my thoughts
Of death
Of death
Of passing through
Before, I laugh
I can even spend
The bill that Marla knew
In drawer, in stacks
Among what’s left
My future spelt
In hue of blood
Is scrawled, is just,
For what
For what
For Marla passing too
Sep 19, 2018
Sep 19, 2018 at 8:46 AM UTC