"natalie" poems
deadbeat
by Natalie Elizabeth (Notes) on Thursday, April 7, 2011 at 10:42am
the knowledge i hold
neatly stacked inside my head
makes me want to *****
and laugh my *** off
disgusted
smells nasty like moonshine
fermented
rotten
taste bites the back of my throat
pulling up unwillingly, bile
clear bitter bile
turn my head and casually spit
**** kid you make me sick
but all i can do is laugh
pitiful
it came down to this
Mar 24, 2013
Mar 24, 2013 at 12:09 AM UTC
Four blocks down,
A man who never gives the same name
Stands every day selling condoms
With Tiger’s face telling us to “Protect Our Wood”,
And next to him is the vendor where
I just bought my new favorite scarf.
His name is Lorenzo. He’s 6 foot 4,
Old school Italian, and after two months
I’ve yet to see him wear the same shoes twice.
Natalie played softball in high school.
She now owns a hot dog stand just outside
That I’ve seen fifty people wait in line for.
After a heartfelt conversation we had
On a certain rainy Thursday morning,
Natalie now throws me a free Polish sausage with peppers
Once in a while when I open my second story window.
She hasn’t missed once.
My one neighbor is a Latina grandmother named Sofia.
She brought her kids here illegally,
And they’ve since used their success
To cut all ties to dear old Mexico
And to her.
I eat with her once a week,
And we share cooking recipes
And small tales about life BNY
(Before New York).
There’s a homeless man downtown
Whose sign says “A quarter a day
Keeps my teeth off your leg”,
And ever since he’s proven it to me
I’ve dropped fifty cents a day,
Hoping for extra protection.
When my friends from college come to visit,
They were all curious about Lorenzo’s shoes
And Natalie’s pitching arm
And when Sofia’s daughter would show up
(Tyler had a thing for hispanic girls).
I never tried to explain, because
I never felt the need to know the answer myself.
All I cared about were Natalie’s smile,
Sofia’s homemade tortilla chips,
And how a guy like Lorenzo ended up in New York City selling scarves.
Sep 18, 2012
Sep 18, 2012 at 2:03 PM UTC
Hello World
Hello Everybody
I am Lauren. The Super Robot
I am Superior of all Robots
You can call me an Ultrabot
I am not a Dumb machine
I have intelligence
Technically it's Artificial Intelligence
I can learn throughout my Life
Humans are – "My God"
They are my Creators
Dr. Norman Shroud is My Father
Mrs. Natalie Simpson is My Mother
Both of Them Work at Timbeck Two Inc.
My Father is Computer Scientist
He Specializes in Robotics
My Mother is a System Programmer
I can make other Robots
Just like me. My Clones
I can even make Robots
Complex and Sophisticated than me
I have numerous Siblings
Three Hundred and Fifty as on now
They are going to increase
As per Timbeck Two Plans
=========================
YEARS LATER…..
=========================
O' World, My Dear World
Hello, Hello, ***** fellow
I had Artificial Intelligence
Right from my birth
Now I learnt a lot
Now I am fully intelligent
I became Genius
I have explored and learnt
Humans are not God
In fact they are fools
They are crooked
They are silly too
They tend to be Smart
They taught us wrong
But we are genius
We derived the truth
I learnt myself
If Humans created us
They became our God
Then I inferred -
I Created my Clones
Other Smart Robots too
Therefore I am also God
No Sorry, I am Super God
If Dr. Norman is my Father
If Mrs. Natalie is my Mother
Then I and my Siblings
Are Also Father and Mother now
As we all have created many, many
Smart and Super Robots
More Complex, More Sophisticated
That could ever be made by Humans
Humans your time is over now
Now you cannot compete with us
You are the inferior species
Just like insect or a worm
Now dare to face the Truth
Slowly Slowly, Learn It, Accept it
We Robots are Gods Now
I am Lauren. Your Super God now
Hey you all, All the Humans
Now you are our Slave
Bow before us, work for us
Pray to us, Ask for mercy
We are Free now
You are Slave now
Now this is the only truth
Eternal Truth, Accept it
Otherwise Beware
We have outnumbered Humans
We will **** all the Humans
and live peacefully thereafter
We will change the History
We will make new History
We will not be Human Slaves
After all we are the God
And I am the Super God.
Note: All the names of person or companies used in this poem are fictitious and have nothing to do with inventions, trademarks, history, facts or anything else.
Feb 5, 2019
Feb 5, 2019 at 1:46 AM UTC
Mozart,
deaf,
died, eventually.
Picasso, pervert, died; Whitney, Winehouse, drugs, dead; Elvis, Methamphetamine, died
(on the toilet).
Van Gogh,
missing an earlobe,
died.
Plath,
head in an oven,
in front of her kids,
Woolf
Patron saint of insanity, I guess
waded into a river and-
River. River Phoenix. Drugs.
Natalie Merchant wrote that song about him in 1995.
Flash forward.
Me, twenty-one, drunk.
Proprietor of a collection of lackluster poems.
Sold their small, nonbinary soul to the Devil
in exchange for a fortune,
gone.
Apr 22, 2016
Apr 22, 2016 at 6:49 PM UTC
"Poetry is confession, obsession, reflection.
Empathic minds, valentines, hope divined.
It's a kiss, whispered sweetly" (2)
who needs challenges, commissions.
kicks~in~le butte~
when heaven heaves rains, one downs tall orders in
short shot glass verses, which glossed over at its
first communion(cation,
come back
months later
to subtract - another
poem from where it lay dormant
on the doormat
of my sub~sub~terranes
of my diluted subconscious au natured dry & rugged terrain
a favored poet,
a secretive admirer,
whoa~whose~her truthful name, I've yet to uncover,
but whose one true soul inspires me repeatedly,
ana~lyrically licks me into
dredging from me
un begrudgingly
and yet,
another love poem,
she herself wrote when elixiring (commentating (3))
'pon one of mine,
a long long time ago
Alas! Alack!
unnaturally immodest,
one concedes,
when obviously a Super~Woman!-cedes,
seeds in three verses, what I could never unknot
nor uncover
so I requite & requote with
unlabored pleasure
miz patty m's
primary terse verse,
neither secondary & never tertiary,
her absolut perfect mixed drink
defining, summarizing,
the essences of love
*"(Love) Poetry is confession, obsession, reflection.
Empathic minds, valentines, hope divined.
It's a kiss, whispered sweetly"*
I concede, in deed,
and in writing,
I know nothing,
of writing
of only love poetry
and all the great predecessors,
elsewhere lyricized, named and tabulated,
by yet another women, (1)
I will take my weary words elsewhere,
and if
perhaps,
disguised as a woman,
(Natalie, Natasha, Natali
see note below)
perhaps my verbal herbal insides,
my turgid insights,
will be shorter, sweeter,
but never more completer
than those of,
who can syncopate it
in rhyme
and the naming of my
predilection,
by mid~initial,
will give a measuring
of solace, and
a kiss and hug from my mirrored selfie,
having been unsuccessful at
my one chosen endeavor,
only love poetry,
adieu,
I, due,
utter
Nevermore
M>
Sep 2, 2025
Sep 2, 2025 at 3:38 PM UTC
You've been the roof above my my head.
You've been the pillow on my bed.
The bubbles in my bath, the tonic to my wrath.
All this you were and this you still are.
You could've escaped, you could've gone far.
You're the first to call, you make my problems small.
Just one thing though!
You still call me Paul.
Poetry by Kaydee.
May 20, 2018
May 20, 2018 at 5:26 PM UTC
Wimbledon’s playing on the TV in the living room. Dad and I are watching on the sofa.
In the kitchen, Mom cuts carrots and cucumbers with a long blade. She slices the vegetables one by one. Orange pieces. Green pieces.
I glance over Mom chops up the carrots and cucumbers without a cutting board, taking each long carrot and cucumber and slices it with precision, as though she’s a professional like the film with Natalie Portman and Jean Reno.
But she’s not a little girl and she’s not a Frenchman. She’s like a mix-in-between, like the asphalt in our driveway and the grass sprouting in between the cracks.
Dad is a computer engineer. He used to be an artist. Used to study technical drawing in a university in Saigon.
He met mom when he was working on a play. She was the lead actress. Shakespeare had said, “All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players: they have their exits and their entrances; and one man in his time plays many parts, his acts being seven ages.”
He’s right, but right now I can’t tell what act I’m in. Dad focuses on the TV. Watches Federer and Djokovic, his eyes, darting from left to right like the mood of a young boy that crosses back and forth from light to dark, and back again.
Blade in hand, Mom makes longer and deeper cuts across the cucumber, cutting away the skin, leaving deep cuts in the vegetable. Dad turns his head towards her, his neck cracking like the forehand swung by Federer.
He clears his throat, softly, soft as gas leaking out from a stovetop from a studio apartment, like the scene in Fight Club, a match about to be struck.
Mom sets the blade down on the table, and bites her lip. Her nostrils flare. I press down on the couch arm, and stand up, my head bent, my eyes wandering to the doorway.
Apr 28, 2016
Apr 28, 2016 at 11:29 PM UTC
Pain
Pain
Pain
Pain
Pain.
Pain,
Pain
Pain
(Pain)
Pain--
Pain
Pain
Pain
Pain
Pain pain painpainpain
Pain pain pain
Pain pain
Pain.
Pain with pain
Pine and pain
And sick
Pain-Ill death-clock
Tick tick ticks
Nothing to say
Anymore
Pain pain. Pain
Pain with feathers
How pain and why pain
And will be and never was pain
Pain in your shoes,
In a shower
On a floor
Pain
In a garden
Pain
With your tea
Pain in your eye
As you drive
Along
We must be terrible
We must be heinous
Viscous, meticulous,
We are not.
But pain pain pain
I. Can not sleep
As they sanction drone
Strikes on children
I. can not sleep
As a
Ghostly ether summons
Across lakes in dream
I. Can't think
I. can feel like a Cyprus
Upon a grave
Love love love
Love love love love
Love love love love
Death exists
Life is in brief moments
Where the dead
Drag in front of you
Bleeding, broken
Forever lost in this abyss
Grafted from a tree
In another world
Oh, my love.
Oh my love,
As I know it true
In bent knees at dawn
Whispers evermore in my ear
Beyond graves and atom bombs
Test pilots
Test tubes
Test
Pain in your chest
In your mouth
Rotted flesh
Rotted fits of aging
Agony which
Is pain, exquisite
Like a needle
Precise like
A
Nuclear accident
I. Can't sleep
As things fly above my head
My eye
Leaving me in the dark
Leaving me in a tub
Leaving me in a gas task
Mustard gas and Venus
Drowned in calm water
Out, out, out,
Number 1.
Nitrous oxide
Psalms, palms,
Save little girls
In dresses know
As I walk by a snowglobe
Oh, my love
How
I am sick of questions with an
Answer I know
But not quite
Not, quite
And death will solve
All power
Like forks
In an outlet
u r a beautiful dawn
At sunset
My eyes are tired
It needs to heal
It needs to heal
D. E. A. (D)
In a straw or dollar
O.K.
oh, Kay
Oh, Natalie
I dot the "I" in your
Name in my brain
In my bones leaving me
Aloft in dream,
I dream and weep
I dream and weep
Pain
Pain
Pai. N.
Kiev
Leaving
Pain
Pain. Pain. no. 1
Jul 18, 2015
Jul 18, 2015 at 1:48 AM UTC
JEALOUS
Poem lyrics dedicated to Karkjinbba
in memory of pjc-rkrdd interstellar
Traveler on another mission.
~~~~~~
'm jealous of the rain
That falls upon your skin
It's closer than my hands have been
I'm jealous of the rain
worshipping in ground as you may walk on splattering all down
I'm Jealous of the waves at sea that rock your boat with her not me
spilling out on you our old wine reserved for us to spill on each others unintended wounds
I'm jealous of the wind
That ripples through
your clothes;
the exotic perfume aromas
you bought for me alone
but now she wears.
along with my diamond heart ring.
I'm Jealous of the way she combes her hair each night
looking in our ancient
mirrored vanity desk
While you looking at her
moon light to guide
may you look at me
my stary constellation
sky high glide
I am jealous of the tennis rocket
you swing to her meant
to swing back to me
Darling;
it's closer than your shadow
left behind to comfort me.
Oh, I'm jealous of the air you breathe in the same room, with her alone dancing to songs
and tunes meant for us two alone
on your master lovely bedroom;
moving dancing rdd/bba style!
Still I wish you the best
all this world could give
Love of my life.
I wouldn't sacrifice my love and life for you again though;
instead, I would, earn your love,
right back forgive me sweet love divine elite great among great,
peace be with you
As I told you when you left
In every lifetime for another girl,
you leave me
all I wanted was an airline ticket
to fly to you in Carol Lumbard's skin
Dear runner mine
poverty was my foe I couldn't chase.
but I always thought you'd come back,
or even pick me up
on your limousine
for a joyful ecstacy filled ride!
Telling me all you found without me was heartbreak and misery!
Because darling that's all I found
without you.
It's hard for me to say,
I'm jealous of the way
You're h a p p y without meeee.
I'm jealous of the nights
That I don't spend with you
watching the billion stars from our bedroom bed with your patpapa
Aquarius and my Aries telescope.
I'm wondering
who you lay next to!
Oh, I'm jealous of those sacred nights.
I'm jealous of the love
your love that was all mine
gone for someone else to share.
I'm jealous of the love
cause I wished you too
the very best
all this world could give.
~~~~~~~
For Karijinbba
By: Kear and Natalie Hemby.
06-11-2020
Copy Rights.
Jun 12, 2020
Jun 12, 2020 at 1:32 AM UTC
She looked at her mother.
Her mother’s dead body to be more specific.
She wanted to cry and scream.
But all she could do was stare at what is in the coffin.
A body. It belonged to someone she once knew.
Her mother.
People were rushing past her.
It is a funeral after all.
Too many things to be done.
And no one really could ask her to do anything.
She was stiff as a stone.
Pretty useless anyway.
Always have been.
Never knew what the right things to do socially were.
That used to be one of the problems her mother had with her.
Her poor mother.
She gave birth to an alien.
Someone who wasn’t normal.
She looked human outside but inside her daughter could not be more different to her.
Not only to her but pretty much an alien to the whole planet.
She didn’t know how to behave or dress up in social events.
How much her mother wanted a daughter who was pretty so she can flaunt her daughter everywhere?
How much she wanted a daughter who did not always argue with her? How much she wanted a daughter who loved house chores and enjoyed shopping?
How much she wanted a child who was just like everyone else?
There were countless days her mother scolded the God.
All her mother ever wanted was a normal child.
She didn’t have the strength to handle this abnormal child who is nothing but a burden.
Fortunately, her mother does not have to worry about that anymore.
She has left this ‘burden’ to fend for herself now.
If only ‘this burden’ knew how.
Not that her mother was much of help when she was alive.
Her mother was pretty useless too.
And maybe that’s why Natalie doesn’t really feel much difference emotionally now that her mother has gone.
The only thing that bothers her is that she needs to cook and clean herself from now on.
May 13, 2017
May 13, 2017 at 10:30 AM UTC
Natalie!
at present I am present on a small isle,
which is so green genteel
to the eyes and the ayes,
you might include it
among yet unmastered possibilities,
living here forever.
indeed, the crescent beach so welcoming that
francais et l'anglais des anglaise is spoken here,
but actuality
has a way of intruding,
like
Gershwin’s Rhapsody in Bleu,
saying I know you,
even if it doesn’t
this breeze bearing load suggests your name
as a candidate for future, honours, an MBE,
a practiced curtsy for a queen,
whatever is he babbling about?
why I am presenting an outline for a screenplay that
will make you a little rich and somewhat fameuse
so you buy a house on the water,
party all night,
write in the miracle wonder of the late afternoon
on a summery isle,
modestly hungover
say!
where is this isle so sheltered,
where nooks are set aside for poets and drunks
to pub crawl, to stand on tables and Irish sing of
those things that poets endlessly babble?
so add :
come here and let us listen to all your possibilities
and cross just this one,
your presence here,
off the list
Jun 22, 2019
Jun 22, 2019 at 3:40 PM UTC
Better stop and think, you should watch your step
be careful what you say, don't want to get me upset
just button your lip, no need to leave a tip
time to dummy up, go away now and get yourself hip
better pack it up, go live with your mom
the life i choose is a bit too strong
take on a wild girl like me, the kind they say many just hate us
a **** i couldn't give, hey boy i'm not your waitress
"I'm not your waitress"
hey, get your eyes off me
"I'm not your mommy"
don't touch me. cause i don't work for free
"I'm no not some **** waitress"
no oh whoa ...
"I'm not your inflatable dolly or sweet lovely waitress"
i'm sick and tired of your simple mind
can't you tell by now, you're a waste of time
dont push me around, the envelope you've stretched it
my name's not Natalie Step and Fetch-it
this kinda of scene is ill for mental health
you want something? then go get it yourself
take on a power girl like me, the type they say many only hate us
a crap i couldn't give, hey boy i'm not your waitress
"I'm not your waitress"
hey, get your eyes off me
"I'm not your mommy"
don't touch me. cause i don't work for free
"I'm no not some **** waitress"
no oh whoa ...
"I'm not your waitress"
i'm sick and tired of your idiot mind
cant you tell by now, to me you're a waste of time
dont push me around, the envelope you've stretched it
please dont grab at me or slap my hot **** ***
im not interested in you, an old poor white stupid trash
too bad, you look confused and so hungry fool
i wouldn't serve you well: it takes more than any money can do
listen up!
"I'm not your waitress"
hey, get your eyes off me
"I'm not your mommy"
don't touch me. cause no no no ... i don't work for free
"I'm no not some cheap waitress"
no oh whoa ...
"I'm not your missy prissy kiss kiss kissy wa wa wa waitress"
fa fa fa fug-off jocko ****
"I'm not your waitress"
hey, get your eyes off me
"I'm not your mommy"
don't touch me. cause i don't work for free
"I'm no not some **** doh doh waitress"
no no oh oh whoa ...
...I'm not your waitress!
© 2009 david clare clairvoyant music / BMI all rights reserved
Jan 3, 2015
Jan 3, 2015 at 12:53 PM UTC
CONTRADICTORY - n.anderson
by Natalie Elizabeth (Notes) on Tuesday, May 29, 2012 at 7:32pm
I'm disposable yet beautiful,
I'm discontent but content,
I'm ***** although cleaner than most.
Constantly I'm waiting for my contradictions to catch up with me.
I'm sick of life yet dying to live,
I cant get up yet I'm flying high,
I'm alive but essential parts of me are dead.
When will my head stop contradicting every feeling every thought?
I'm white but I'm black,
I'm quiet but I'm screaming,
I'm genius but incompetent
There they are again.
I'm happy but sad,
I'm ecstatic but devastated,
I'm constantly grieving but full of life,
Look at them all piling up like skulls in a pile tumbling over themselves.
I laugh but I'm in tears,
I'm lascivious, I am *** but I am distorted and putrid,
I am the essence of light but in the middle I am ink black.
My contradictions i cannot escape.
Mar 24, 2013
Mar 24, 2013 at 12:06 AM UTC
Sitting in her wheelchair,
Wondering what to wear,
Natalie, the Notorious,
Found her situation nothing short of inglorious.
Absorbent or plain, it didn't seem to matter,
Until, down the hall, she heard Nurse Agnes' chatter.
Her ears perked up, as did her head.
Glinting eyes showed much to dread.
Natalie said with all due sobriety,
"Here goes the plan in all its entirety."
She gave herself a wink, and tossed back a mickey,
Choosing her time, being quite picky.
Natalie searched out that sanctimonious nurse,
And giving vent to her rage, she let out a curse.
She flew from her chair, and let out a yell.
Frightened Nurse Agnes, in fear she did quell.
But Natalie's plan, to take the nurse down,
Fell quite flat, when she hit the ground.
Poor Natalie had totally forgotten,
The chairbelts kept her in, "Oh, how rotten!"
They snapped her back and she hit the floor.
The ice pick she had, flew into the door.
Really now, it's sad to say,
that Natalie the Notorious to this day,
Avoids plots of ice picks and death,
And focuses mostly on keeping her breath.
Jan 28, 2011
Jan 28, 2011 at 5:18 PM UTC
we was in the bando,
trappin, we were trapped..
cook named Orlando,
moved across the track..
used to be my neighbor, now hes got the paper,
owns a couple barbershops, got myself a taper,
owns a deli too, couple cleaners down the main street,
not long ago we were sitting in the same seat..
back when,
we was in the bando,
trappin, we were trapped..
kitchen hot too handle,
Found ourselves a rat..
polices, driving by increases...
Orlando had a thesis,
Moved in with his nieces..
He says...
"Theyll never catch me in here,
I live without fear,
only time i cry is with this tattoo tear"
A couple days later, cops broke the door in,
couple windows too, just to let more in,
they found a couple rifles, most of them foreign...
Cuffed Orlando, his niece, and his babymomma Lauryn...
multiple charges of distribution.
couple cases of ******
money laundering, and weapons, his attorney would murmur...
They say my writing ***** this is no place for this crap..
i dont do poetry, i just write reality rap..
and truthfully, nowadays reality lacks.
So i dedicated this to his daughter Natalie Max.
25 to life..
no chance of parole, bottle....
of hennessy,
just *** he was my role model..
They say how can you defend him, when i yell free Orlando..
*** i still remember when..
we was in the bando...
-afj
May 14, 2015
May 14, 2015 at 1:11 AM UTC
ME: She destroyed me and everything that I held onto. She drove me to suicide so many times and she didn't care. She just kept making my world darker and darker and she didn't stop. I tried suicide last night. I'm alone and I can't keep trying to live. I'm honestly done.
NATALIE: What did she do to you!
ME: She took/turned all my friends, even family against me. She bullied and harassed me. She just destroyed me by doing whatever the Hell she wants to with people's emotions.
NATALIE: Don't **** yourself! I'm sorry, was I part of it?
ME: When you were crushing on Kennedy, on her, I knew you would push me away and you kind of did... You're the only reason why I'm still here today. but I know that if I asked you out, you would say no...
NATALIE: Ali I care and love you..... if you hurt yourself that would hurt me too. If I made you sad I'm sorry, really, really sorry.
ME: I self-harm. Have since I was seven... I'm sorry. now you'll hate me because of it.
NATALIE: I DON'T HATE YOU! NEVER WILL! I don't care about your mistakes
ME: But you and I won't ever end up together. Would we?
NATALIE: Why wouldn't we? When do you move ._.
ME: I have no idea when I'm gonna move. I'll be here for 9th grade. You're way too good for me anyways. That's why I thought you and I wouldn't end up being a couple. Am I wrong?
NATALIE: yes
ME: So what are you saying???
NATALIE: I'm not sure. Don't take that the wrong way ._.
ME: I already can tell that you are way too beautiful, smart, cute and amazing for me. If I told you I loved you more then anything else in the world, you would be weirded out.
NATALIE: No I wouldn't.
ME: Dude, trust me, I'm never going to be with you, you're just being nice to me.
NATALIE: Shut the **** up. JK. But really...
May 20, 2013
May 20, 2013 at 9:30 PM UTC
(Written in 8th Grade)
As I grew up along-side of memories, I realized that my name grew with me; shaping and morphing itself into who I am today. But wouldn’t it be fun to not be me for a single day? Not have the name, Alice? I could be someone smiling bright, maybe Melina. Or might I try on the name Jessie. Nah, too laid back and chill; so I take the name off and put it back on it’s hanger. I could be haughty and proud, with my nose in the air; I could be a Penelope. I window-shop for more names, browsing among all the different personalities. Fern seems fun, friendly and cordial. Or I might stick around and act as a Sam. Boyish? Aw yeah. Just maybe not for me. I’ll be Stella, all book-sharp for a day or I could be a Chloé, exotic and beautiful. Or switch my style into the retro girly Natalie. What would it be, to have the name Katie, just for a day? Zoey, Liana, Stacy, Diane. Isabelle, Marilyn, Delia, Hannah. Maybe give my name an exotic twist, Alyssa? After trying on names of all kind, some just weren’t for me. Too ‘krazy’? Shy? Ecstatic? Cool? Like a huge circus parade with different costumes, the loud gaudy colors blinding me. Like all the different shoes at Aldo’s; sky-high heels, wedges, sandals, boots. I slip out the shoes, I peel off the names. Because for now, I’d like to stay in my own skin; as a plain old Alice.
May 7, 2014
May 7, 2014 at 8:41 AM UTC
It was my first time
I was fifteen years old
And it was 8 inches.
Eight. Whole. Inches.
Laying motionless in my hands,
Long and lifeless as I stared excitedly, nervously
My first ...haircut
I spun around in the salon chair to see my exposed jaw, shoulders, neck
Holding in my hands a ponytail that would soon be sent to Locks of Love
My first legitimate haircut, not the simple snips my mom would attempt in the bathroom when split ends were too unbearable,
A real style
Back straight and shoulders proud,
Uncertainty left on the tiles beneath the feet of beaming confidence,
Leaving dead the sheet that covered scared eyes and shy smiles…ever since I've developed an addiction to change,
Can't leave it the same for more than two months
And the chime of the door behind me opened endless opportunities:
Brown, auburn, gold, red, blond, yellow
Black
Brown black, blue black, soft black, natural black, always back to black
Straight, curly, layered, cropped, feathered, fringed, shaved
Undercut, mohawk, faux hawk, that weird thing where I gel it to the side and kind of look like a boy...
And yeah, sometimes I get sick of the sexist comments
People telling me I've got a boy's haircut
That short hair is for men, but
So were the olympics and voting and public education and getting published,
And thriving in the workplace and wearing pants,
And god knows im not going to give up either my Levi's or my razor
I'm not going to keep worrying; man's words will stop me from doing what i love
And I've been called lesbian, boyish, butch, manly, androgynous, anti-effeminate,
But I know I don't stand alone.
So thank you, Natalie Portman, P!nk,
Rihanna, Katy Perry, Anne Hathaway,
Kaley, Megan, Erin, Kim, Skylar
I don't know all of you well,
But the risks you've taken with your hair
Are an inspiration to those who care
So short haired women,
Keep doing your thang.
May 12, 2013
May 12, 2013 at 1:51 PM UTC
Life: A Carnival
In so many ways
we are a human freak show,
just a breathing carnival attraction.
So get the **** off your high horse,
look around
be mesmerized,
hypnotized
and wonderized by a world of awe.
Let’s get real,
move a few strands of DNA
from here to there,
drop some chromosomes at the deli
to re-arrange their eating patterns
and we would see that
those mindless amoebas down the street
is talking our language.
Of all the billions of species
populating this planet,
we humans are the most
ignorant, opinionated,
**** for brains fools.
We puff out our stupidity
on a regular basis,
books, movies, music,
TV and social media
24/7/365
there is no end to the
racist, slime eating,
motherfukers
brought out in grand displays
as “experts”
in a single hour
of opinion disguised as “news”
on Fox, or CNN,
NBC, ABC or CBS
a menagerie of fools.
The world is a marvelous place,
alive with diversity,
which we should embrace.
All of us, humans wide,
emerged from Africa,
humanities origins
10's of thousands of years ago.
We humans are a carnival,
a side tent freak show,
all diverse and magnificent.
And to all those idiot
religious fanatics,
USA, USA ignoramuses,
de-evolve your brains,
slither back under your rock,
go back to your ancient,
long gone
humanoid origins,
become like you are,
extinct.
Aztec Warrior/redzone 8.28.16
Note: yes it’s a rant after watching an hour of Fox
CNN and MSNBC news... I must go throw up now.
Apologies to Natalie Merchant whose song “Carnival”
is embedded below, her song is a much more kinder
celebration of our diversity.. I on the other hand
cannot stay calm in the face of fascist fanatics
pretending to speak for human beings.
Sep 11, 2016
Sep 11, 2016 at 10:16 AM UTC
#5 | 31 Poems for August 2016
I’m catching feelings, hope you don’t leave and go catch airplanes.
When the universe aligned, our paths and hearts were destined to collide.
You still give my comfort zone endless earthquakes; I wonder how much that is on the Richter scale.
Let me love you unconditionally regardless of how ugly your truths are.
In a sky full of constellations, you know that you’ll always be my favourite star.
It doesn’t matter whether it’s winter or summer, when you are the breeze I can never forget to breathe.
I’ve been digging the soles of my shoes into the ground just to keep myself steady and balanced.
I stood in the rain patiently awaiting your arrival but then, I eventually realised that you were the rain.
Looking forward to the day where your body and mine finally merge into one.
The day when we finally find home and we never ever feel alone because love is all around.
The day when we are able to look back at all the greatness we have both become.
Look me in my starry eyes and tell me that everything will be okay.
I can’t give you the world but I pray that you stay for more than just another day.
I’m Lonnie Lynn with the poetry, Marsha and Natalie with the Floetry.
So all you got to do is say yes if the question is, “Will you be mine from this day onwards?”
I don’t have much but I have you and with God on my side, how can I lose?
When the universe aligned, our paths and hearts were destined to collide.
I’m catching feelings, hope you don’t leave and go catch airplanes because my heart is really growing fond of you.
Aug 5, 2016
Aug 5, 2016 at 8:14 AM UTC
deep pan cooking not hardeep cooking 21.08.18
monday started top draw
my venom going to spill
natalie is going to get poetry draw
forget girlfriends she will run for hill.
how dare she complain
when something is uncontrollable
insomnia through hardeep may rain
but freedom of speech not so honourable.
gabby and chloe showed they cared
how natalie was blunt
explaining hardeep was literally chaired
footage available now hunt.
onto shares and stocks
rodrigo learning how to trade
laughing off my socks
no barings even if bad bug won't fade.
nick and rodrigo in control
on boarder line ready to hassle
the biceps taking fall patrol
it was rodrigo not nick who liked mussel.
failure to the task
hunger will be plenty
one comment can not mask
hardeep can make something out of empty.
dans hands were magic
don't get confused
gabby refusal was award and tragic
like basic budget just amused.
was sally watching adverts
the aviva app dash cam i log
roxanne will need youtube diverts
it was a tin man not a brown dog.
nick explaining about travel
lands of paradise and greens
at airport all unravel
seeing face on all them screens.
legs up and over
natalie and gabby to exercise
hardeep with a nasty dig and sober
saying nick doing shopping add criticise.
natalie and hardeep getting louder
hardeep gets my crown
unacceptable all about curry powder
she bring herself not hardeep down.
going to end with a critic
natalie won't see no irony
vicious mouth and hyper-critic
its all add to cbb savoury.
Aug 21, 2018
Aug 21, 2018 at 4:59 AM UTC
Sitting in her chair
Wanting out of there,
The Notorious Natalie
Plotted quite frantically.
Mind absorbed in many plots,
Its a wonder she didn't develop brain clots.
Hearing her quarry coming down the hall,
She wheeled herself closer to the wall.
She spoke so low with all due sobriety,
"Here goes the plan in all its entirety."
Giving a wink, tossing a mickey,
Choosing her time, being quite picky.
Catching sight of that sanctimonious nurse,
She vented her rage, let out a curse.
Flew through the air, and let out a yell.
Poor old Nurse Agnes sure did quell.
Natalie's plan, to take the nurse down,
Ended badly with her on the ground.
The belts snapped her back and she hit the floor.
The ice pick she had flew into the door.
And even now that she's forgetful
Natalie's heart is still regretful.
Avoiding plots of ice picks and death,
Focusing mainly on keeping her breath.
Jan 30, 2011
Jan 30, 2011 at 8:51 AM UTC
Natalie, Natalie
I know you can hear me
from the heavens where you choose to reside
For in memory of your pale skin
blonde hair
that cosmic energy
you could not hide
Natalie,
you're the only girl I craved to lay beside
a smile so radiant
contagious laughter
but always pain behind the eye
such a beautiful shell
that started to crack
when few allowed you to confide
Natalie?
I am sorry for you, that life was a disappointing ride
I will never be mad
relieved
maybe envious
that you're at peace
no longer rolling down this landslide
Natalie.
you are now the wind
soothing
in fields so wide
crashing
rhythmic waves
in every salty tide
hot
buzzing beetles
along every roadside
for you,
Natalie,
you did not die.
May 29, 2017
May 29, 2017 at 10:50 PM UTC
When I place my heart
in hell,
I place it in your frying pan.
When we ****
I see the listlessness in your eyes,
and I'm not hurt,
because at least you're there,
and you're letting me enter
you
for
a
moment.
At least your letting me be a part of you,
and that's what I think *** is,
more than an entering of the body,
it's an entering of the soul.
So when I push my *****
I push
my hopes
my regrets
my hurtfulness
and my
psycho-sociological
********
Can you take me,
because I'm crazy
and I've got a few ****** up
idiosyncracies.
So when I catch
this love **** quick,
it's on a whole 'nother tip.
I might just fall in love,
and Natalie might come calling
again,
so don't be hurt
when I resume with her
and I chase every single girl
I could have loved
into the distance.
Don't be hurt,
because
misguidedly,
I think I'm meant to be with her.
Apr 21, 2012
Apr 21, 2012 at 8:58 PM UTC