"opinionated" poems
‘I am…’ 'Or am I’? Who can say?
‘A posteriori’ leads the way
For the extra and the ordinary
Axiomatic sway,
In the gravity of corollary,
‘A priori’ interplay
Ataraxic overlay of anxious automation,
As the innocence of dissonance delay.
Practicing semantic contemplation,
In willfully prevenient interpolation,
Civilly disobedient in expediently seeming disarray,
Forecasts in vague extrapolation
Contrasts the millennial contagion
Already underway,
Filling nihilistic voids with particles in waves,
To interpret dreams of Freud to free Oedipus’s slaves,
A degreeless scholastic who never misbehaves,
Simulated humanoid dramatic in the affect that he craves,
Inflating linguistics in acrobatic raves,
A thespian who plans conation with legacy engraves.
The probabilistic determiner of cosmogenous debates,
An apperceived inquirer of qualitative states,
Inspiring proprietor of dismality abates.
Challenging aporia as epistemic oscillates,
Stoically, heroically, ‘one’ who amalgamates,
Circling the infinite in hermeneutic calibrates.
An escaped prisoner from depressive disillusion,
Of an introspective extrovert who finds solace in confusion,
The personable recluse fighting an illusion
Breaking down the nuances of every institution.
Calculating consequence as time goes to infinity
Revolutionary commonsense of principal utility,
An opinionated adversary,
to the realist without evidence,
Theorizing in futility,
Stipulating every sense leading to the virility of the pretense that dominates community.
Divergently converging all the efforts we’ve personified,
Inadvertently submerging old traditions that unethically were codified,
Hastening the urgency for purging that which cannot be modified through the merging of the certainty that will no longer coincide,
Stationing the levies to finally stem the tide,
Of periodic enmities disguised to be necessities so blatantly deified.
Observing moral sentiments, perched upon eternity,
As consequential regiments are expounded universally,
To unstratify the residents indiscriminately
And identify quantum elements spiritualistically,
Changing collective behavior individually,
Socializing constructs in joint ventured logo therapy.
Nov 16, 2018
Nov 16, 2018 at 8:07 AM UTC
Nosey people annoy me
Pompous people bore me,
Pretentious people irritate me
Whilst drunk people irrigate me.
Opinionated people grate me,
Cheating people forsake me.
Sly people irk me
Lazy people shirk me.
Judgemental people cast me,
Bigoted people blast me.
Most people avoid me!
May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 12:45 PM UTC
Living this life is unpredictable until the end;
conclusions of the statement are only made from opinionated experiences.
At the dawn of birth, there is "choice"
and "choices", are for better or worse.
There is an expression that goes,
"everything is likely fifty-fifty in choosing",
consequently believe it to be true.
Humanity exemplifies a just way of living,
in an understanding that people make
poor decisions due to the life they may
have been brought up in, however,
this life is full of petty mistakes as we know it,
some unfortunate souls are born into a dysfunctional
or broken family and others of a different situation i.e.(poverty).
This could cause unjust mannerisms
that occur in the daily lives we so often face.
These situations very freely throw more
than the average curve ball growing up.
Sadly, I ask that we feel sorrow
for the majority of individuals
with an intention that in reading this;
it would justify some clarity in my eyes through yours.
With clarity, let there be a world in heartthrob,
which could potentially change mankind towards purity.
A very specific conclusion led me to this;
When a man struggles at his own destiny
because of his nature vs. nurture,
his good along with his bad leak like a salivating sieve.
However, his “good” shows his mentality
and lust for life, yet his “bad”,
shows his incompetence relating to
a moral dignity for the greater good of living (if unfortunate).
As this revelation evolves,
humanistic mannerisms slowly slip away
in a young society and fade from
the common core values we once knew from our elders.
Surrounded by an ideological critical society,
a fear trembles for our youth has no future
in a sense for they may be too deaf
to hear their state of “consciousness”,
to the extent of being blind to see their own “actions”.
"The unknown spectator of our world;
is the light beyond the dark,"
Nov 5, 2012
Nov 5, 2012 at 12:17 AM UTC
People are opinionated.
People are selfish.
People are obstinate.
People are argumentative.
People are lazy.
People are destructive.
People are creative.
People are beautiful.
People are determined.
People are complex.
People are unique.
People are amazing.
Mar 3, 2014
Mar 3, 2014 at 5:38 PM UTC
Look at me
Thinking positively
Back to who I was
But then again not who I was at all
I can’t believe I’m sitting here right now
Crying tears that aren’t sad
I’m here
And I’m alive
And I’m breathing
I am human
I’ve made mistakes
We all have
But life doesn’t stop for you
And it doesn’t stop for me
The only way is forward
Everyday I’m just going to get better
Take that life
Who’s kicking your *** now?
Yep it’s me and I’m ready for you this time
I am a beautiful person
I’ve made mistakes but that only makes me better
I can find me again and I know I will
It will take time but its possible
I don’t have to wallow anymore
I can embrace the sun
There will still be downs but I will depend on myself
And whoever else I need
To get me out of those downs
Because although necessary
They don’t need to be prolonged
I’m going to get better
I’m like wine and as I age, I will be all the greater
I deserve this
I pulled myself out of a great big **** hole
And now I’m here
Happy again
So now I have a plan
I will egg myself on
I’m going to do this
I deserve to be happy
With myself and with the people around me
I deserve to be healthy
I deserve to love my body and myself for who I am
I deserve to push myself
I deserve to talk loud and animated
I deserve to be opinionated
I deserve to be liked
I deserve to not hate myself or put myself down
I deserve to be weird
I deserve to have hope
I deserve to be free
I deserve to live
And I deserve to be me
So if you cant handle what I deserve
And you don’t know that you deserve it to
Then that is not my fault
And if you cant love or appreciate the person I am
Then you deserve to go **** yourself
Aug 8, 2010
Aug 8, 2010 at 9:07 PM UTC
On that fateful day of Pentecost,
power came down from on high.
For it originated with God’s presence
and His Kingdom, that’s far beyond our sky.
The ascension of Christ had been witnessed,
with Him clearly rising above the clouds;
He was no longer bound by planetary constraint
and the opinionated amazement of the crowd.
Upon the Earth, a violent breeze blew;
it brought forth ‘winds of change’ into the hearts of men.
This first outpouring of the Holy Spirit reinforced
God’s abundant Love, for us all once again.
The power of Jehovah had appeared,
as ‘tongues of fire’ above the people’s heads -
Thus fulfilling an Old Testament prophesy,
as the prophet Joel had previously illustrated.
The spiritual battles are fought today
inside the imagination of our minds;
cleanse your thoughts with The Word
and shift your ideals with His holy paradigm.
God has promised in The Scriptures
that He will never leave us nor forsake us.
His comforting Spirit remains along side
as we now await - the final return of Christ Jesus.
Author Notes:
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://www.squidoo.com/book-isbn-1419650513/
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2010, All rights reserved.
Jan 24, 2013
Jan 24, 2013 at 6:25 AM UTC
I am not a pretty girl. Never have been. I’m a little rough around the edges, I speak too loudly, and I cry when I’m angry. I tried, you know, to be less volatile, less opinionated, less of anything. Whittled myself away until I was nothing but a wisp of a girl, complicit in my own destruction.
I lost myself somewhere between the ages of 13 and 15. Somehow, a quiet sadness had seeped into my skin until it was unbearable- an obesity of grief. But here’s the thing: I was not a tear-stained girl romanticizing the idea of pain. I was angry. And cold. And mean.
But then I found myself one morning after it had rained. Quietly, without waking my family, I slipped into the cool morning air. I danced in the rain, the grass under my feet and the morning sun warming my face felt new, exciting, and it was all mine. I found myself in sips of earl grey tea, a book on my lap, devouring the words as if they were a life raft on a tumultuous sea. I found myself while watching the sunrise on a foggy beach. It was beautiful the next day, too, and I pulled a rusty bike from the garage, and thought to myself, “I’m going to be alright.” Because I found myself on a run in the pouring rain, the sweat and aching lungs reminding me of my own mortality. I found myself in the quiet, shy smiles of strangers in coffee shops and curious children. I found myself while driving dangerously fast on the highway in the middle of the night. Laughter escaping my mouth as the lights of the city flew by. I have laughed and cried and sang and danced and all of it is because I found myself after hiding for so long. I found myself because I finally had the guts to scream “hello, world. I’m here.” I grabbed life like a face between my palms, and I said “yes, I will love you again.” It’s not a charming face, nor a beautiful smile. But yes, I will love you again.
Oct 10, 2018
Oct 10, 2018 at 6:43 PM UTC
five years ago, June 2018,
I, poet Sir Humbug,
wrote:that the job of the artist was to be
luminous and dangerous
<>
*the job of the artist
is to be
luminous and dangerous
luminous to others
by being
dangerous to themselves
when the words are ripped from the chest,
atmosphere disbursed by the body’s projectile messes,
starburst fireworks,
luminous and dangerous,
luminating the shared night,
laminating your truths,
in poems disguised
and so the job,
our work,
begins*
<>
five years on,
somethings have changed,
indeed, the dangers of
being luminous,
clarifying and exposing,
the requisite badge of courage,
need-be more desperately earned
the work is more risky,
as the rules of now are none,
and the risk of good taste,
thoughtful caring,
exposing you innards outwardly,
so easy to demean
and sadly
that titillates the iliterati
like a fire-working fireflies flashing,
their in-concert of ligh attracts the
oohs and aahs
but too,
the restless for glory,
opinionated blowhard,
whose critical boundaries of ill will
are
boundless
yet,
write on, right on
to be where courage be the
sticking point!
your verbs must be pointy,
your direction true,
adjectives of modest innovation,
craft harder, then harder again,
for the work must be honest
in a manner most delicate
now is the time of
subtlety -
if one must bang pots to be heard,
that you to are but a noisemaker, a loser,
an addition to those
lost in the din
quiet passion,
thoughtful insight
to inside, to the tender parts,
will rule the day
and the blow smokers
will rue the day,
as their pretenses chafe and flail wayside,
and your words,
be like sightings of new lands
where you take us utterly beholden,
willing explorers to places most wonderfully
luminous and dangerous!
Jul 10, 2023
Jul 10, 2023 at 11:25 PM UTC
fake, see through
fake
insincerity overdose
choke it back
fake
false, feel it
false
exterior brittle
break it down
false
opinionated, hear you
opinionated
voice resonating
spit it out
opinionated
self, runs through you
self
always about you
change the tune
self
others, why don't
you see
others
spell out the word
others
know it
won’t you know it
Jul 30, 2012
Jul 30, 2012 at 4:19 PM UTC
Have we met?
Maybe yes, maybe no
But in your head
There must be an image of me.
Either real, sketchy, vague or an imagination
To some a rare gem
To others is a beautiful devil
And to you...
maybe just a facebook friend.
Maybe it’s the smiling girl
In my profile picture,
Who got your attention...
Or maybe it was that awkward update
That got you thinking.
Or maybe it’s the color of her eyes,
Or is it the long slender legs
In that party dress as she walks across the street?
Mhhh... Just maybe
You must be wondering
Why am writing all this
I would love to answer you
But I really don’t know
What my last line will be like.
So, will keep writing...
Do you ever wonder why this girl isn’t constant?
Today she is in love
Tomorrow her man is a pain on her neck,
One minute she is your friend
The other minute you are a stranger
I think i know why...
She is like you, she is human!
She may not live long enough
To defend all her flaws
Or brag about her perfections
But I can tell you a few things about her...
Some she isn’t proud of
But others she wouldn’t change
Just to please a crowd
She has a beautiful heart
To complement her warm smile
But she has a temper too
Which beats that of a betrayed woman
She is opinionated
But still a good listener.
But an insensitive word...
Hurts her like a sharp sword.
So, if you haven’t met her,
Now you know something about her
Do I need write more?
Oh yes, tomorrow i will write, and the day after
Maybe about you, or about my shoe or the trees
Everyday I will write.
C@P2013 September 4, 2013 at 8:53pm
Feb 20, 2015
Feb 20, 2015 at 11:56 AM UTC
We are imperfect products
placed in the midst
of an imperfect society,
a vicious cycle of perseverance
and failure:
constructed,
broken,
fixed,
and fixed again.
Airbrushed and painted
to perfection:
pale skin
flushed cheeks
slim legs
and a smooth mindset.
Opinionated only
on the matter of
superficial products –
glamorizing and embellishing.
Deteriorating enamel –
cracks in a varnished frame.
A scratched surface,
damaged to the core,
polished and glazed over.
Skin made paler,
cheeks more flushed,
skin and bones,
and a mind wiped clean.
Unachievable expectations
and inevitable failure
are enough to b r e a k
even the toughest material
d
o
w
n.
May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 12:11 AM UTC
How to fit it?
Be fake.
Put on a pretense.
Like those anchor peoples on the newscast.
Hold your opinions.
They don't like opinionated folks.
And if they are they called personal commentaries.
How to fit in?
Put on that smile.
In life we all are actors.
It's a trait of our character.
Unless we get selected to heaven.
Then that's another matter.
We required to be real because the love of God is there.
How to fit in?
Embrace the concept of your surroundings.
Just sit back and take it all in.
Like a shy person you'll be able to describe everything.
From those that fake to the backstabbers.
Now, you can be a rogue.
Just realize renegades doesn't last in the fakeness for long.
But that's how you fit in?
You just need to ask yourself?
Is this your quest?
Dec 4, 2013
Dec 4, 2013 at 9:57 AM UTC
The first thought in my head
At the sight of the two together
Was, 'they don't match, but they fit,'
Like the beginning of Fall meeting the end of Summer.
Bright and outspoken
Warm summer days
Beside the quiet thoughtfulness
Of Autumn's leisurely change.
It's beautiful and intriguing
It's not meant for paper alone
So I'll shout it from the highest mountains
And write it in the most-heard songs.
Summer's heat speaks of joy
Though the nights talk of pain
And through the smiles and laughter
Is evidence of life's strain.
Autumn is quiet but opinionated
And riddled with hurricanes
But the light of Summer
Will never let Autumn fall again.
Summer writes of beautiful chaos
Autumn writes of simple existence
They don't match, but they fit
I'm amazed every time I see them.
See, the first thought in my head
At the sight of the two together
Was, 'they don't match, but they fit,"
Like the beginning of Fall meeting the end of Summer.
May 30, 2014
May 30, 2014 at 7:27 PM UTC
Rancor,
Swashbuckling with a sawtooth grin and sacrilegious shouts, selcouth with an unsound mind, the commonness of uniqueness, the commonness of opinionated onions cutting their teeth on life and crying, again, and ready to saw off the limbs of the opposition out of revenge!
Rancor, relax, you're not a Twitter matador, I wish you were because I’d love to watch the show.
We cuddle with exotic nylon fibers and squeal about our weight and status and how someone insulted us and how terrible it is to be alive while sipping on easily accessibly high fructose corn syrup! Life has never been this sweet, but I guess we’re getting sick of honey.
I complain about the complaints, I am the anti-complaining complaint club president.
I am a writer, an iPhone thumb tapper.
Hear me
These mental gymnastics will somersault and summerset you right, child,
Don’t listen to Rancor,
That man’ll grab your gaze and stir your attention into a cocktail while winking at you from behind the bar
he’ll leave your brain a little woozy from a life that used to be sweet until you left it out in the sun a few years too long,
I wonder if some of the dead watch us from the corners of our bedroom or the trees along the freeway, waiting for greatness to unfurl.
I’ll bet they do and I’ll bet you’re a glitch, I’ll bet a little piece of another galaxy hit you in the head and made your finger twitch.
How many hot car hours have been spent in a parking lot,
the skin dries, the phone dies,
the spirit once lifted towards the outlines of the mountain peak now seeks memes, transcendent in their own right.
May 12, 2022
May 12, 2022 at 1:54 AM UTC
One evening I was walking home,
nice dress and heels stomping pavement
of the moonlit streets in my home city.
I've got something you'd love to grab onto, babe.
Catcall. It's not a compliment. It's demeaning.
He says ***** but all I seem to hear is
strong. daring. opinionated. outspoken.
Because that's what he's saying
when I stand up for myself.
when I act outside the roles of a "good" woman.
What he hope, with a five letter word,
is that I'll shut up, sit down, be seen and not heard.
because that's what being a woman is:
suppressed.
So, thank you sir, because all you've really done
is given me a reason to fight harder
a purpose to speak louder
and a way to stand taller.
"I've got something you'd love to grab onto, babe."
"What a shame... I forgot my tweezers."
Jul 28, 2014
Jul 28, 2014 at 3:26 PM UTC
I’m hated by the world because I won’t sell my soul.
I’m frowned on by society cuz I’m not very old.
My teachers all look down on me, but I do what I’m told.
Because I am a metalhead, I’m always treated cold.
So what if I’m opinionated?
I’m sure that you are too.
There’s things we won’t agree on,
that much I know is true.
But why are you so hard on me?
Cuz I’m not the same as you?
That’s why I have true happiness,
I am not fazed by you.
(Might add to this later.)
Jul 26, 2011
Jul 26, 2011 at 6:48 PM UTC
“You must taste your words before you speak”
She said, with the sweetest smile
Always consider the feelings of those around you
Let them rest on your tongue awhile
Do not be so quick to claim your bitter offenses
When others behave annoyingly
The truth is, you may be being too sensitive
She said, looking straight at me
There are some who are forceful and opinionated
With powerfully strong personalities
Do not ever let them mistreat you, protect yourself
Using your wisdom of tact, gracefully
Some will walk the line between being assertive
And overstepping their bounds
If you will deal with them using your softest nature
The rewards you reap are better, I’ve found
*For Linda
Aug 11, 2010
Aug 11, 2010 at 6:05 PM UTC
no one believed in ghosts
until we realized everyones transparent
no one holds on tighter
than when they realize
they have to let go
but the terrifying part
is that im not sure
if ive ever been held
my hands are made of smoke
my heart is caged vapor
im reaching
for so many people
but im a phantom
made of lies & half truths
how can i be honest with you
when i could never admit to myself
that im a ghost
im a real boy
i chant to myself
as my strings get pulled
a marionette made of fog
the realest ill ever be
is when im spouting
the opinions of others
out of my incorporeal mouth
tying together borrowed words
with my ethereal tongue
as if i have a thought process of my own
whats it feel like to be a ghost?
id say like hell
but ghosts dont feel much anyway
were all living on borrowed feelings
donated sympathy
& hand-me-down ignorance
an army of ghosts
that cant even defend themselves
we bash each other
with words that are almost
as hollow as our chests
no one knows anything
about themselves
but everyone knows everything
about everyone else
we see through each other
but we cant see ourselves
we try to reflect one another
but the vapor is always shifting
its maddening
being so shapeless
yet so defined
i want a body of my own
i want a place i can call home
i want to not be shamed for my opinion
i want to respect others fully
ghosts are meant to terrify
& let me be honest when i say
ive never seen anything as ghostly
as this generation of opinionated plagiarists
[holyoak]
Jun 16, 2015
Jun 16, 2015 at 9:16 PM UTC
I sit here in the dead of night,
In these four walls, I haunt myself.
There's hours yet 'til I'll see light,
And I am feeling...not so well.
The day was cold, with warm embrace
And I was feeling so alive.
The touch of sunlight on my face,
And joy, unbidden, in my stride.
But reality, the heartless *****
Has ways of jerking on the heart.
Her nimble fingers squeeze and clench -
So fragile things will fall apart.
And so it was that I returned
To what I know I can't escape.
Something I could not help but learn,
And once I had, it would remain.
That I am independent, see,
And spirited beyond control.
I know there's things I cannot be,
For I have no submissive soul.
It would, perhaps, do me some good
To better watch the things I say.
I speak things that I never should,
And I regret them, day by day.
Yes, I have tried to change myself,
To coax out in me what is meek,
But every time, I'm lost in hell,
For such exertion makes me weak.
I struggle every day with this,
For who I am, shall always be.
Sometimes I cannot help but wish
Spirit was not so strong in me.
Perhaps it is not understood,
That I'm not mean in any way.
"My heart," I cry out, "it is good!"
And still people will turn away.
Yes, I confess, I do compare
Myself to those I could be like.
Demure and quiet, gentle flair -
I feel that I am not quite right.
I've been the same way all my life,
Opinionated, loud, and strong.
It's only been in recent nights
That I have felt...there's something wrong.
Why can't I reign it in, I think?
Is it so hard to settle down?
My heart constricts, my stomach sinks
At just that thought which I have found.
I know that I would not survive
If I would change in any way.
My boisterous spirit gives me life,
It's how I handle every day.
So why, then, must it be so hard
To get through life the way I am?
I'm only playing with the cards
Dealt from an unforgiving hand.
But it is every day I feel
That we do not walk side-by-side.
It's almost like I am not real,
But rather, wind, just floating by.
The sun is setting on the year,
And now, reflecting, I confess
That for the future, I've no fear
(Though I know it will hurt no less).
I'll wake tomorrow, one more day
On which the curtains will be drawn
And as the daylight fades away,
I'll hope that so, too, will my flaws.
I pray the new year brings me peace,
And ends the struggle I endure.
Not every challenge yet will cease,
But life gets better, I am sure.
Dec 31, 2012
Dec 31, 2012 at 2:23 AM UTC
If you were to venture across the forceful shelf of societal direction, would you succumb to the currents of the majority? Right now, I need to take a step back into fresh perspective as I give consideration to my deceptive impulses.
A New York cheesecake is surely seductive in her decadent and caloric beckoning. However, English sausages are not dissimilar, my opinionated guide of presumed health and well-being. So, take a hike over endless moors of serial-killer familiarity, because I offer myself upon the altar of elocution.
Nov 17, 2013
Nov 17, 2013 at 11:39 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
If I promenade about as if I do not have any relevance to every other human,
If I believe I am of my own species,
If I only ever pay attention to the expansion of my self-importance,
If I have no interest in the well-being of anything other than my inconsiderate self,
If I am selfish, ignorant and conceited,
If I am opinionated, vanity obsessed and shallow,
If the only progression I make daily is the inflation of my ego..
Will I too, be admired by society?
Jun 14, 2013
Jun 14, 2013 at 4:57 PM UTC
Fact is glorified opinion
Science is glorified perception
I sound like a conspiracy theorist
But I don’t think I've gone mad
Ask yourself these questions and you’ll back yourself into a corner because you can’t find an answer
Prove that you know anything beyond your perception
Preach to me your morality
Your opinionated justice
Tell me what you based your current knowledge on
Your reality is a fallacy
Your society gives you a false sense of security
Truth is a fallacy to protect your fragile reality
Prove that 1+1=2 when its just a man made system
It was created by a human filled with flaws
Government is made by these men
This is why ****** rebellion will never end
No system is perfect so how can we use it to govern others
How can we inflict our unfounded beliefs?
Good intentions forced on others
Is no different than an evil act
You can’t cure ignorance by yourself
So flee to the land of your fabled ideology
The sky is the limit if you step out of the box
So you don’t go crazy over not knowing everything
Every science article you read, every fact that you see, everything you've seen on TV
These are a part of your fragile realty
Its all you've ever known
Don’t make me laugh with the notion that you can be unbiased
You are a human with emotions after all
For you are a frog in a pond that knows not of the ocean
So I ask again please tell me how you know anything past your own ethnocentrism
Apr 1, 2015
Apr 1, 2015 at 12:05 PM UTC
I **** men who don't like me
in hopes that they will.
I give them small kisses
and smile when I stare.
I know all the moves.
How to bite my lip
Show slight cleavage
Glance at them occasionally
Don't break eye contact
Touch my thigh
Widen my eyes
then I open my mouth
And they think:
*Man, she's ******* crazy*
Just crazy enough to ****
Too crazy to stay
So they run
And the cycle continues
Someday someone won't be afraid of
my loud, opinionated mouth
and my wide hips
Oct 3, 2013
Oct 3, 2013 at 10:26 PM UTC
I have never quite understood it,
But every now and then,
A smile that is very rare appears on your face.
I doubt you even realize it.
It creeps out when you sing in the car.
When you are proud.
When you hold a volleyball in your fingertips.
When you look at the mountains.
And I wish there was a way for me to capture that.
You don't know the pride I have in you,
My little sister,
When you grin like the world
Does not control your mouth.
I want you to know you can smile.
You have every right.
Let your eyes be the sunshine,
Let your lips paint the canvas
In shades of yellow, pink, and orange.
Stretch your arms out wide so you can
Welcome each soul with kindness,
Because I know that's who you are.
I know this because I am her, too,
The girl with stars in her eyes
And her heart on her sleeve.
And let me tell you,
There is not a better place to wear it,
Because the pain that comes with it
Is so worth the beauty that follows.
Because the people that break your heart
Will always be followed by the ones
That have been picking up the pieces
So they could return them to you.
All of me wishes you knew your inner beauty.
Of course you are gorgeous outside, as well,
But dig deep,
Shovel down in to your soul until you see the gem.
And I cannot believe you do not already,
Because you shine so brightly
That even the moon pales in comparison.
Karena, you are compassionate.
You feel things that people overpass;
You are the definition of a "friend."
Forgive, forgive, forgive...
Because you do not have time to hate.
Holding grudges is not your style;
And although I do not always think it's wise,
I admire you very much for that.
You see the good in others.
Thank you
For seeing the good in me.
Remember, forever and always,
That I love you.
I'm always your biggest fan.
We've been through it all together,
And that will never change.
Don't lose the spark in your eyes,
Or the warmth in your heart.
Keep being spunky and opinionated.
You are a fire, a ball of life,
And isn't it wonderful
That while some merely
Exist,
You are truly
Alive.
And please--
Never
Stop
Smiling.
Apr 4, 2014
Apr 4, 2014 at 3:00 PM UTC