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"opinions" poems
I LOVE MYSELF With all my flaws In my Beautifulness, In my mistakes, In my weakness, In my darkness. I love myself, because I am worth it. I am a high power person who can move mountains with my love, thoughts and dreams I am good, kind, funny, full of life and love, contagious with my explosive energy Some things may be equally essential but nothing is more important than loving oneself And at this moment the love I have for myself goes above and beyond. It could reach the end of the universe if I just unwrap it I love me in my inane, craziest, sanest, beautiful twisted, darkest and funniest way I love me in a way that no one does I love me in my fullest woes I am everything that I can and will be I am frightfully proud of my flaws and proudly wearing them as no one is perfect This is the start of a new journey to me The journey of love and self acceptance The journey to fully embrace and value my own self I allow myself to fall in my stupidest and biggest way, just to get back up and catch my breath again Failure will not stop me but make me stronger I am fully seeing me and smiling at my imperfected and distorted reflection Hugging myself so tightly, refusing to let go The more I am spending time with me, The more and more my love grows Is it bad for my health ? I do not think so. It’s true, I am better, happier, more free, powerful, at peace The sun is shining on me I don’t need no help to be beautiful, ‘cause I’ve got me I’ve got that uncontainable light from within me I am smoldering a treasure, sharing laughter, joy and sadness with myself I have learnt the phases of myself So distant from that little insecure girl I used to know As I allow her opinions to matter I have accepted her difference Her different kind of beauty, I have learned to love This feeling of wholeness, self acceptance, comfort and love, is liberating I wrap myself around my contorted and beautiful else to form a ME As I am, Raw and Real
0
Oct 14, 2016
Oct 14, 2016 at 6:34 AM UTC
Me, Myself and I
I LOVE MYSELF With all my flaws In my Beautifulness, In my mistakes, In my weakness, In my darkness. I love myself, because I am worth it. I am a high power person who can move mountains with my love, thoughts and dreams I am good, kind, funny, full of life and love, contagious with my explosive energy Some things may be equally essential but nothing is more important than loving oneself And at this moment the love I have for myself goes above and beyond. It could reach the end of the universe if I just unwrap it I love me in my inane, craziest, sanest, beautiful twisted, darkest and funniest way I love me in a way that no one does I love me in my fullest woes I am everything that I can and will be I am frightfully proud of my flaws and proudly wearing them as no one is perfect This is the start of a new journey to me The journey of love and self acceptance The journey to fully embrace and value my own self I allow myself to fall in my stupidest and biggest way, just to get back up and catch my breath again Failure will not stop me but make me stronger I am fully seeing me and smiling at my imperfected and distorted reflection Hugging myself so tightly, refusing to let go The more I am spending time with me, The more and more my love grows Is it bad for my health ? I do not think so. It’s true, I am better, happier, more free, powerful, at peace The sun is shining on me I don’t need no help to be beautiful, ‘cause I’ve got me I’ve got that uncontainable light from within me I am smoldering a treasure, sharing laughter, joy and sadness with myself I have learnt the phases of myself So distant from that little insecure girl I used to know As I allow her opinions to matter I have accepted her difference Her different kind of beauty, I have learned to love This feeling of wholeness, self acceptance, comfort and love, is liberating I wrap myself around my contorted and beautiful else to form a ME As I am, Raw and Real
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40
You should never hate yourself. You should never sit in a crowded room and feel lonely. You should never feel abandoned in a group of friends. You should never change yourself because of other people's opinions. You should never think you are not enough. Please don't hate yourself. Please don't feel lonely. Please don't feel like an outcast. Please be yourself. Please, you are enough. Please. If you ever think no one loves you, just know that the King of kings, the Lord of lords, loves you so much. But I know sometimes you will feel this way. I understand, but maybe I don't. Just, please. Don't hurt yourself. In any way. Please.
0
Jun 11, 2018
Jun 11, 2018 at 11:54 AM UTC
Please.
I don't seek your permission... To write about the what, why and how. It could be a haiku or come in the shape of a cow. I don't need your approval... When I don't sound the least bit poetic... In my mismatched metaphors or ill-rhymed acrostic. I'm not asking for your blessing... When I pen down and put up what I think... Be it in cloying cliches or in tear drenched ink. I don't crave for your understanding... When my 10 word poems weren't filtered through your poetic lens, Or if my contributions in collaborations lack in sense. I don't hope for your likes... If my content does not tickle your fancy, Or if my words just rubs you silly. I mean no disrespect... But don't be too quick to click on the 'comment' button. Private messaging has been put there for a reason. I don't mean to cramp your style... You're entitled to your own opinions of course... But if you've got nothing good to say, please save it and shove it up yours.
0
Mar 4, 2015
Mar 4, 2015 at 10:43 AM UTC
Save It
A rose is a rose, No matter where it grows. Some saw thorns, Beauty some chose. Criticized by some, Valued by loads; People's opinions, You can't change them by force. Perfection is desired, Even if it's freestyle prose! Our lives might be cumbersome, Let's accept the challenges they pose; There's a bit of stardust in us all, No matter hellish situations might come how close, because, a rose is a rose.
0
Mar 29, 2016
Mar 29, 2016 at 12:45 PM UTC
A Rose is a Rose
Have you ever seen the sun rise? Witnessed with your own two eyes? Watching exactly how it went? Not through someone else's photo captured moment You'll really enjoy it more if you view it live & you'll appreciate just being alive I've watched the sun rise countless mornings It's like my own private showings Each one completely different in every way & the best way to start any day They're bright & beautiful Breatakingly blissful You'll never feel the same once you've experienced it & so many will never understand the feeling you get It's hard to explain but I'll do my best I'd imagine it's like fresh air deepily inhaled into your chest Your lungs fill up with all the freshness & you exhale all that causes you stress Your worries all just disappear Your mind is calm & clear It's a feeling that just forever stays Until your dying days Joy & happiness is all you release It is what brings you inner peace All you care to do now is enjoy everything No matter the troubles & obstacles life may bring A happy soul is all you've got & need Your heart has compassion & optimism is what you bleed Sharing your smile with all you pass or whoever you meet That is your favorite way to say hello & greet All from experiencing a live sun rise happen That all may seem impossible to imagine All that out of just a sun rising? When it happens to you, it IS quite surprising Shocking at first, you just can't believe how you feel & you wonder how can this even be real? If you allow yourself to let go of your worries & any doubt Then you make room to clearly feel what it's about You're allowing yourself to be vulnerable & that's when you become more relatable Clearing your clouded mind of opinions from useless chatter Let's you finally enjoy what most may think or say doesn't really matter Those are the ones who don't pay a lot of attention & are afraid to get lost in their imagination Never will they set a foot out of their "safe" box & risk crossing that thin line It's OK, it's their loss & that's just fine They'll just never understand your constant positive attitude & can't recall a time you were even the slightest bit rude They will never know how to just live happily Inside their soul will be dying slowly Some won't see how beautiful a sun rise really is It's something no one should ever miss A sun rise & even a sun set Are too amazing to just forget!!
0
Aug 20, 2014
Aug 20, 2014 at 2:55 PM UTC
Sunrise
Have you ever seen the sun rise? Witnessed with your own two eyes? Watching exactly how it went? Not through someone else's photo captured moment You'll really enjoy it more if you view it live & you'll appreciate just being alive I've watched the sun rise countless mornings It's like my own private showings Each one completely different in every way & the best way to start any day They're bright & beautiful Breatakingly blissful You'll never feel the same once you've experienced it & so many will never understand the feeling you get It's hard to explain but I'll do my best I'd imagine it's like fresh air deepily inhaled into your chest Your lungs fill up with all the freshness & you exhale all that causes you stress Your worries all just disappear Your mind is calm & clear It's a feeling that just forever stays Until your dying days Joy & happiness is all you release It is what brings you inner peace All you care to do now is enjoy everything No matter the troubles & obstacles life may bring A happy soul is all you've got & need Your heart has compassion & optimism is what you bleed Sharing your smile with all you pass or whoever you meet That is your favorite way to say hello & greet All from experiencing a live sun rise happen That all may seem impossible to imagine All that out of just a sun rising? When it happens to you, it IS quite surprising Shocking at first, you just can't believe how you feel & you wonder how can this even be real? If you allow yourself to let go of your worries & any doubt Then you make room to clearly feel what it's about You're allowing yourself to be vulnerable & that's when you become more relatable Clearing your clouded mind of opinions from useless chatter Let's you finally enjoy what most may think or say doesn't really matter Those are the ones who don't pay a lot of attention & are afraid to get lost in their imagination Never will they set a foot out of their "safe" box & risk crossing that thin line It's OK, it's their loss & that's just fine They'll just never understand your constant positive attitude & can't recall a time you were even the slightest bit rude They will never know how to just live happily Inside their soul will be dying slowly Some won't see how beautiful a sun rise really is It's something no one should ever miss A sun rise & even a sun set Are too amazing to just forget!!
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54
sages and brethren gather, and share and slowly souls are bared their tempered voices and quiet eyes reserved of judgment with passing smiles moments blend in current trends opinions wide and reflections deep the concepts and irregularities once murky now clear they prioritize and familiarize that staunch resolution of generation net will remunerate and illuminate through the checkpoints and formal reviews through the purple curtains and open stage nothing tainted or bitter left for taste cause its they who’ll plant the seeds the captains of commerce healers and jugglers the coaches and councilors negotiators and compromisers the kings and queens hustlers and hellcats (who've all found their way!) let us tip our hats and salute them*
0
Dec 2, 2017
Dec 2, 2017 at 2:05 PM UTC
copper robes and iron rings
Just when I think I've known the world I come to the realization That I've only seen it Through my own two eyes. It eats at me Though I shouldn't be bothered And yet I can't help but wonder why. What do strangers see When they watch my favorite film And what do they hear In their favorite songs? What do others girl feel When they knowingly fall in love With someone Who's stringing them along? What do my parents know When they look at the roads They've walked down Many more times than I? What do babies think When the world's so unknown And they can only use their voices To cry? Where is the truth In others' opinions So very different from mine? Where lies the inspiration Of other writers As they steadily type Each line? In the end There's not much of a point Unless reincarnation exists. But frustration prevails Knowing my eye's the limit And my curiosity You see Persists.
0
Aug 16, 2018
Aug 16, 2018 at 1:08 AM UTC
my eye's the limit
Give me time to be intimate. ****** myself deep into your thoughts. Slow grind on your opinions. Let my tongue pour into your pores. Nibble on your ear Light breaths caress your canals. Euphoric exclamations, you moan. I press on your frame Hardening myself to your disagreement Because bruises only remind you of past occasions You moisten my hands with your SELF-worth I fill you with my SELF-esteem. Pulling on the dreams flowing from your head. You cringe, nails hanging of the cliffs of my skin limbs stiffen around our future. You pull me close I hear you whispers While you think them. You want to avoid Submitting under, Moans become muffled Locked in by your teeth Biting your lip.
0
May 15, 2014
May 15, 2014 at 9:38 PM UTC
Seducing Intimacy
Would you shut up for five seconds? I wish I could say this to your face, But you'd demolish my feelings. Lecture me about my age. I don't have to grow up yet. Better yet, I refuse to. Age is just a number to me. I ignore your opinions, I have my own views.
0
Dec 13, 2014
Dec 13, 2014 at 3:19 PM UTC
**** You.
During a walk through the hallway of the primary school I find hallways filled with turkeys and leafs and stiff scrawled characters. What is Mr. Smith's class thankful for? Flowers and toys and cars and dresses and pink and purple and soccer and skirts and barbies and family. How could you sum up all of the things you are thankful for in one word? At the end of the hallway I am faced with a choice: *What are you thankful for?* ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- What am I thankful for? Happiness, and family and security and nature and friends. I am thankful for friends. I am thankful for laughs and chatts and cries and sobs and games and smiles. I am thanful for ****** contortions and 80s dance sessions, for inabilty to speak. I am thankful for hobos, eating on the side of the road, and for devious scheymes of intoxicatation. Hep beni anlayan bir arkadaşım var müteşekkirim and who listens to my sob stories. I am thankful for singing in the rain. And styling hair in the sink for screeching and howling and hissing. I am thankful for obkirchergasses, for Ströcks and for ice cream plarlours. I am thankful for mentos, and walnuts. I am thankful for bad lip readings and hilarious youtube vidoes. I am thankful for unknown languages and nymphs and for eloquence. I am thankful for good taste in music and for strong opinions. I am thankful for dancing indian pirates with demon chicks and fireballs. I am thankful for two-headed teenagers and barbeques. I am thankful for God and healthy choice prayers, and Hawaii get aways. I am thankful for huge, hanging sweaters and crazy, funky leggings. I am thankful for deep talks about the world's lack of beauty and for poetry buddies. I am thankful for dodgeball playing mice, and poor old wenches. I am thankful for pirate and mermaid adventures. I am thankful for the looks we get: looks of loud disapproval, and whispers of quiet exasperation. I am thankful for golden men and loud singing, for crazy dances with crazy cousins and cute brothers. I am thankful for Aunt Jemima. I am thankful for banging on metal bars with rocks and shouting at the top of our lungs. I am thankful for climbing over gates in order to not step on cracks. I am thankful for amazing humanities teachers. I am thankful for a laugh when the day is over. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- How those kids manage to fit all of their thankfulness into one word is beyond me. Even the one-word things we are thankful for, must be described with a million words.
0
Nov 22, 2012
Nov 22, 2012 at 7:42 AM UTC
Ode to a Turkey
During a walk through the hallway of the primary school I find hallways filled with turkeys and leafs and stiff scrawled characters. What is Mr. Smith's class thankful for? Flowers and toys and cars and dresses and pink and purple and soccer and skirts and barbies and family. How could you sum up all of the things you are thankful for in one word? At the end of the hallway I am faced with a choice: *What are you thankful for?* ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- What am I thankful for? Happiness, and family and security and nature and friends. I am thankful for friends. I am thankful for laughs and chatts and cries and sobs and games and smiles. I am thanful for ****** contortions and 80s dance sessions, for inabilty to speak. I am thankful for hobos, eating on the side of the road, and for devious scheymes of intoxicatation. Hep beni anlayan bir arkadaşım var müteşekkirim and who listens to my sob stories. I am thankful for singing in the rain. And styling hair in the sink for screeching and howling and hissing. I am thankful for obkirchergasses, for Ströcks and for ice cream plarlours. I am thankful for mentos, and walnuts. I am thankful for bad lip readings and hilarious youtube vidoes. I am thankful for unknown languages and nymphs and for eloquence. I am thankful for good taste in music and for strong opinions. I am thankful for dancing indian pirates with demon chicks and fireballs. I am thankful for two-headed teenagers and barbeques. I am thankful for God and healthy choice prayers, and Hawaii get aways. I am thankful for huge, hanging sweaters and crazy, funky leggings. I am thankful for deep talks about the world's lack of beauty and for poetry buddies. I am thankful for dodgeball playing mice, and poor old wenches. I am thankful for pirate and mermaid adventures. I am thankful for the looks we get: looks of loud disapproval, and whispers of quiet exasperation. I am thankful for golden men and loud singing, for crazy dances with crazy cousins and cute brothers. I am thankful for Aunt Jemima. I am thankful for banging on metal bars with rocks and shouting at the top of our lungs. I am thankful for climbing over gates in order to not step on cracks. I am thankful for amazing humanities teachers. I am thankful for a laugh when the day is over. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- How those kids manage to fit all of their thankfulness into one word is beyond me. Even the one-word things we are thankful for, must be described with a million words.
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57
Stop trying to make me fit In your stupid little box of Labels and Definitions Truth buried far beyond reach Only your lies always Stuffed down my throat. If other people can come out Why cant i? Your reasons get flimsier My resolve only strengthens Your toxic opinions Make me want to leave you behind And escape. I will take my freedom myself. I don't bleed for you anymore.
0
Apr 27, 2015
Apr 27, 2015 at 3:01 PM UTC
BLEEDING OUT
i cannot hate you, the way i hate your opinions, but god **** you sure are ****** for someone so emotionless
0
Dec 23, 2014
Dec 23, 2014 at 8:49 PM UTC
oh ****
I've never been good at Decisions But I've always had Opinions Finally I make a decision To share my opinion This one opinion Has made so much commotion So much fuss From my little opinion Now I have reason to fear Decisions
0
Sep 17, 2014
Sep 17, 2014 at 2:31 PM UTC
The Decision
What if love became so overwhelming, such an inextinguishable force that its true purpose betrayed itself completely? To the point that even the utterance of those three powerful words, that at a different junction had held such promise, now left a distinct taste of uncertainty on the lips and a ringing of insanity in the ear drum. What else does one say when the most pure form of expression and commitment echo with distain and regret? Even as I slide into introspection, diving deep to the point of no return, there seems to be no logical path, no penance for the monster I have created. Through my own autonomous actions and neglect I have reached this dark place. Perhaps I indulged beyond a point where thoughts and actions have boundaries. A broken compass , spinning without meaning. All indicators in tact, every cog and point in place, magnetism lost to exaggerated memories, fears and regrets. Self delusion is a drink that is best served with company. With companionship the mind tends to believe its own meddling. Delusions are mistaken for truth and biased opinions blur with reality. All roads lead to pain. Every so often a spark jumps to the surface of my consciousness. A pin ***** exclaiming hope. It’s a glitch of my own creation. The belief in happy endings and love prevailing. That love is more powerful than any disappointment, mistake or breech in trust. My reality had been resurfaced and augmented by the media. Love stories are just that. Stories. A wave of manufactured hope, washing over the beach of the human psyche. Every grain of sand is washed back to the sea just as it has arrived. Happiness, a flame burning on a tiny wick. Enjoy the heat while it lasts for it is going to be a cold winter. And the power is out.
0
Oct 31, 2012
Oct 31, 2012 at 3:19 PM UTC
Three Powerful Words
What if love became so overwhelming, such an inextinguishable force that its true purpose betrayed itself completely? To the point that even the utterance of those three powerful words, that at a different junction had held such promise, now left a distinct taste of uncertainty on the lips and a ringing of insanity in the ear drum. What else does one say when the most pure form of expression and commitment echo with distain and regret? Even as I slide into introspection, diving deep to the point of no return, there seems to be no logical path, no penance for the monster I have created. Through my own autonomous actions and neglect I have reached this dark place. Perhaps I indulged beyond a point where thoughts and actions have boundaries. A broken compass , spinning without meaning. All indicators in tact, every cog and point in place, magnetism lost to exaggerated memories, fears and regrets. Self delusion is a drink that is best served with company. With companionship the mind tends to believe its own meddling. Delusions are mistaken for truth and biased opinions blur with reality. All roads lead to pain. Every so often a spark jumps to the surface of my consciousness. A pin ***** exclaiming hope. It’s a glitch of my own creation. The belief in happy endings and love prevailing. That love is more powerful than any disappointment, mistake or breech in trust. My reality had been resurfaced and augmented by the media. Love stories are just that. Stories. A wave of manufactured hope, washing over the beach of the human psyche. Every grain of sand is washed back to the sea just as it has arrived. Happiness, a flame burning on a tiny wick. Enjoy the heat while it lasts for it is going to be a cold winter. And the power is out.
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6
I say hello My nametag dangles from my lanyard "Hello, my name is Liz Pronouns are kye/kyr" it says They see the lanyard and they laugh. "Those aren't pronouns!" they say "She is messed up." Shut up. A 300lb woman looks into the mirror she sighs remembering her peers' words "You should lose weight." "You're very overweight." "Your obeseity is your fault." A 75lb woman looks into the mirror Her anorexia laughs remembering the 300lb woman she used to be her peers then tell her "You need to gain weight." Shut up. Shut up. The boy hides his face Not giving the teacher eye contact The teacher calls his name His stomach flips upside-down She called on him on purpose he just knows it In front of the class expectant, judgemental eyes glaring Instinct tells him to run He looks at his notecards All he sees is chickenscratch The teacher hangs her head in disappointment and growls "Just sit down if you have nothing to say." Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. A girl drags hersef through the day Everything is black and white Coming home to wild parents Who hit her constanty and then claim "I love you." Excuses, excuses. For every welt, mark and bruise But when she gets one on her face- She had given one, too. In fact, she had given many How generous she was! The police came and arrest the girl. All she heard was "Her mother is dead." Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Take a breath the girl tells herself She goes to her parents They stare, wide-eyed at her dress, eyeliner and nails they just stare. She tells them her new identity They tell her "Chris. You aren't a girl. You're a boy." Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. You read a poem titled "Shut Up" About the hardships The unfair, the despair of living life. Please know Opinions don't matter If you are happy, who cares what they think? If they criticize you Just smile and say Shut up.
0
Nov 7, 2014
Nov 7, 2014 at 1:36 PM UTC
Shut Up
I say hello My nametag dangles from my lanyard "Hello, my name is Liz Pronouns are kye/kyr" it says They see the lanyard and they laugh. "Those aren't pronouns!" they say "She is messed up." Shut up. A 300lb woman looks into the mirror she sighs remembering her peers' words "You should lose weight." "You're very overweight." "Your obeseity is your fault." A 75lb woman looks into the mirror Her anorexia laughs remembering the 300lb woman she used to be her peers then tell her "You need to gain weight." Shut up. Shut up. The boy hides his face Not giving the teacher eye contact The teacher calls his name His stomach flips upside-down She called on him on purpose he just knows it In front of the class expectant, judgemental eyes glaring Instinct tells him to run He looks at his notecards All he sees is chickenscratch The teacher hangs her head in disappointment and growls "Just sit down if you have nothing to say." Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. A girl drags hersef through the day Everything is black and white Coming home to wild parents Who hit her constanty and then claim "I love you." Excuses, excuses. For every welt, mark and bruise But when she gets one on her face- She had given one, too. In fact, she had given many How generous she was! The police came and arrest the girl. All she heard was "Her mother is dead." Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Take a breath the girl tells herself She goes to her parents They stare, wide-eyed at her dress, eyeliner and nails they just stare. She tells them her new identity They tell her "Chris. You aren't a girl. You're a boy." Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. You read a poem titled "Shut Up" About the hardships The unfair, the despair of living life. Please know Opinions don't matter If you are happy, who cares what they think? If they criticize you Just smile and say Shut up.
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81
I am alive by luck at this point. I wonder if the gun that will eventually take me has been made. Whose trigger will bury me. How many bullets, like a flock of sparrows, will come carry my life to its final bed. Today, I am alive but there is no law to thank. If not me, then someone else. Born into a game of chance we never asked for. Traded diplomas for obituaries. Traded graduation speeches for eulogies. Traded futures for an early grave. Forced to cash in their chips. We don’t want to play anymore. And this too is eulogy. And this too is prayer. And this too can resurrect the coffin wood back to a tree. Can sing back alive whatever parts of you died with them. Whatever leapt in your throat at yet another headline. Mourning until you, too, are a thing to mourn. But we will no longer be martyrs. We are the rude awakening to politicians who pawned out our safety, who bartered our lives for bribes. You say “gun reform is not the answer” but all I can see is a bullet rattling like a pinball in an innocent student’s jaw. You smell like gun smoke and I can see the AR15 you're holding behind your back and I guess it's easy to crack jokes about dodging bullets when you're the one firing them. Give teachers books not bullets: Kafka isn’t kevlar. Bronte isn’t bulletproof. And how sick is it that we must add school shootings to your list of proud american traditions. Throwing opinions like punches. How many more have to die before you decide your ego isn’t as important as you think it is? And I, too, am buried alive My soggy grave parting its greedy lips. To you, my bones, when ground into gunpowder and mixed into water, taste like champagne. My pulse, as thin as an obituary panting beneath sweaty palms, and sure We are “just kids,” But you are forgetting we are the next generation And you autopsy your fists. Call it reclamatory. Lately, when asked “how are you?” I respond with a name no longer living. And who knows if mine will be next
0
Apr 14, 2018
Apr 14, 2018 at 10:32 PM UTC
Ammunition: a eulogy for parkland
I am alive by luck at this point. I wonder if the gun that will eventually take me has been made. Whose trigger will bury me. How many bullets, like a flock of sparrows, will come carry my life to its final bed. Today, I am alive but there is no law to thank. If not me, then someone else. Born into a game of chance we never asked for. Traded diplomas for obituaries. Traded graduation speeches for eulogies. Traded futures for an early grave. Forced to cash in their chips. We don’t want to play anymore. And this too is eulogy. And this too is prayer. And this too can resurrect the coffin wood back to a tree. Can sing back alive whatever parts of you died with them. Whatever leapt in your throat at yet another headline. Mourning until you, too, are a thing to mourn. But we will no longer be martyrs. We are the rude awakening to politicians who pawned out our safety, who bartered our lives for bribes. You say “gun reform is not the answer” but all I can see is a bullet rattling like a pinball in an innocent student’s jaw. You smell like gun smoke and I can see the AR15 you're holding behind your back and I guess it's easy to crack jokes about dodging bullets when you're the one firing them. Give teachers books not bullets: Kafka isn’t kevlar. Bronte isn’t bulletproof. And how sick is it that we must add school shootings to your list of proud american traditions. Throwing opinions like punches. How many more have to die before you decide your ego isn’t as important as you think it is? And I, too, am buried alive My soggy grave parting its greedy lips. To you, my bones, when ground into gunpowder and mixed into water, taste like champagne. My pulse, as thin as an obituary panting beneath sweaty palms, and sure We are “just kids,” But you are forgetting we are the next generation And you autopsy your fists. Call it reclamatory. Lately, when asked “how are you?” I respond with a name no longer living. And who knows if mine will be next
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31
for there to be a total and complete utopia that benefits all it would be an equal and bland life. *life without emotions that could potentially start conflict. life without diversity to avoid the confrontations of opinions. life without memories so we cant compare the past to the present. life where no rules are ever broken.* *life where love is treated just as pain so they exclude them from our lives. life where music wasn't used to express ourselves. life where your opinion is forbidden. a life of mystery , more than there are today.* so a utopia that would be settle for everyone to be equal, and fair would be no utopia at all. we would all be faint echos of life.
0
Dec 6, 2014
Dec 6, 2014 at 12:16 AM UTC
utopia?
Beauty is beyond the mirrors view, Beauty defeats peoples opinions,because its more than that. Beauty is learning to be satisfied with self and not comparing yourself to others, Beauty is loving and respecting yourself, Beauty is a loving heart, Beauty is a beautiful soul..
0
Jun 21, 2015
Jun 21, 2015 at 3:18 PM UTC
#1 Beauty
Adjacent heart, Segregating the mind. Differing opinions. An argument, On line. Segregation of the mind and heart, Different from the soul. All do battle, To decide your fate. In this world.
0
Feb 5, 2015
Feb 5, 2015 at 8:49 AM UTC
Adjacent Segregation
The anonymous connection, a sort of social disconnect. A freedom of speech, though not socially correct. Able to find out half the world across. The broadest topics, the tiniest loss Images and moving pictures, Different kinds of art. Differing opinions, pulling all apart Learning all the facts, the tiny and the small. Putting it out there visible to all.
0
Jan 10, 2015
Jan 10, 2015 at 7:22 PM UTC
The Anonymous Connection
(the gate is a crowded mess, please no special requests, be thankful you got a seat, this flight is sold out and I’m beat.   I get up and stand on my chair and say) *I give thanks for: the uncommon greatness of common sense for the steady approach of that wondrous day when kindness is neither random or unexpected, but the rule, not the exception for our opinions and deeds, that are our own, derived without coercion, born from our thoughts and observations and that we are equal to both owning them and to changing them that we live in a time that friendships can grow just through the quick exchange of words leaping bounds for eyes that see deep deeper than skin, ears that hear what those ashamed wish you didn’t, hands that grasp regardless of distance, the taste of  kisses that come easy sweet   for the  day when I at last knew, the pleasure of giving so far exceeded receiving, that giving and receiving became synonymous that I learned that the best skill to possess  is to anticipate the needs of others that my lucky position in this world permits me to act on the things for which I am thankful* that someday I will need no longer inquire, are you my poem, for the answer will be self-evident to us both
0
Nov 22, 2017
Nov 22, 2017 at 12:51 PM UTC
LaGuardia Airport, Thanksgiving Day Eve
Tell the voices in your head To form a picture of me instead Remind yourself of who we were, remember how much tears you've shed And although those feelings inside you are dead As long as you loved me, I could silence all what they said Free your insecurities and circumventing acts Try not to be fooled by people's opinions and start learning to accept the facts We live in a world of segregation Molestation Racism and human spring deforestation We fight beasts, beasts of our conscious, and we claim our prize We **** zombies, zombies of our morality no matter what size We strangle dragons, dragons of laws that no one abides And you come to me afraid… Why do you come to me afraid…?
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Oct 25, 2012
Oct 25, 2012 at 5:33 PM UTC
Pointless Trepidation
I am you, you are me There is no difference inside to see The color of your skin, hair or eyes Does not represent what’s inside. Physical traits come from the family tree They give roots, history and a sense of identity But inside we have the same blood, the same heart So when does prejudice begin to take part? Babies are born without preconception They feel love and comfort from their caregiver’s affection Their new eyes are blind to ignorance They see through a clear lense and don’t see difference As they develop, society gives them glasses, Their vision gets clouded by the opinions of the masses The lenses get darker as they grow They filter the world to see only colors they know Differences become obstacles, not celebrated. Leaders tell them who to respect and who should be hated. These biased views could remain for a lifetime And then they’re passed down to the next one in line. Opinions are essential, shared thoughts educate. But when they’re bigoted and hateful we cannot tolerate. Take those blinders off, take a look around. There’s so much joy in diversity to be found Don’t let the blindfold give such a narrow view Don’t be complacent and take what is given to you Rip off the filter, open your eyes Find connection, common experience, destroy the lies Revel in these connections, learn from one another We’re all trying to get through from one day to the other See through the skin, the hair, the accent To the core of the HUMAN BEING with love and respect.
0
Jan 11, 2021
Jan 11, 2021 at 11:43 AM UTC
Human Being
I am you, you are me There is no difference inside to see The color of your skin, hair or eyes Does not represent what’s inside. Physical traits come from the family tree They give roots, history and a sense of identity But inside we have the same blood, the same heart So when does prejudice begin to take part? Babies are born without preconception They feel love and comfort from their caregiver’s affection Their new eyes are blind to ignorance They see through a clear lense and don’t see difference As they develop, society gives them glasses, Their vision gets clouded by the opinions of the masses The lenses get darker as they grow They filter the world to see only colors they know Differences become obstacles, not celebrated. Leaders tell them who to respect and who should be hated. These biased views could remain for a lifetime And then they’re passed down to the next one in line. Opinions are essential, shared thoughts educate. But when they’re bigoted and hateful we cannot tolerate. Take those blinders off, take a look around. There’s so much joy in diversity to be found Don’t let the blindfold give such a narrow view Don’t be complacent and take what is given to you Rip off the filter, open your eyes Find connection, common experience, destroy the lies Revel in these connections, learn from one another We’re all trying to get through from one day to the other See through the skin, the hair, the accent To the core of the HUMAN BEING with love and respect.
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