"outing" poems
Anxiety is not stress.
Anxiety is not some umbrella term you can use to describe how you feel when your favorite character in a book is in an intense battle unless you can somehow feel how fast their heart is beating until you can feel how hot their blood is until you can feel what it’s like to be that character in that situation the weight of the world on your shoulders
Anxiety is not finding lighting candles to be the only solution, candles are another problem. Another long paragraph to your list of “Things That Can Easily **** Me” example: “I didn’t leave any matches out, did I? I blew out the candle right? I need to check. Do I smell burning?? PUT THE CAP WHEN IT’S DONE! Will set off my fire alarm? Does my fire alarm work? Where’s my fire alarm??? Where’s somewhere I can put it so it doesn’t hurt me. THIS IS OK THIS IS NORMAL THIS IS RELAXATION.”
Anxiety is not stress.
Anxiety is horrible flashing images, constant reminders, the most negative form of “what if” imaginable.
Anxiety is wasting all your time thinking about an 8 page paper due for class in a week but instead of bringing yourself to writing it you are sobbing on the floor thinking of how bad for your grade this will be.
Anxiety is having a crush on a girl and trying out makeup for the first time.
Anxiety is having a crush on a guy and wondering if your sense of humor is funny enough.
Anxiety is not stress.
Anxiety is downloading an app that checks on your health and leaves you wondering how long this has been going on for.
Anxiety is wondering how to fix your eating disorder instead of actually fixing it
Anxiety is outing yourself to fit in
Anxiety is always wearing pants because you’re too afraid of your own scars
Anxiety is staying up countless nights crying crying crying you cannot yell your thoughts are no longer your own
Anxiety is writing a list of pros and cons to killing yourself
Anxiety is lighting a candle so you can slowly burn the list because
Anxiety is telling you if someone finds out, you will die.
Anxiety is not stress.
Anxiety is having making a friend and losing them in less than a year
Anxiety is wondering if all this help is helping or do I need to help myself
Anxiety is your friends questioning you non-stop are they really questioning you or do you question yourself?
Anxiety is memorizing the suicide prevention hotline
Anxiety is beating yourself up countless times “How could you forget something as simple as a Birthday?!”
Anxiety is “I only have three friends and one hates me, one I’m trying not to lose, and the other I love too much to tell the truth”
Anxiety is “It’s only a matter of time before we all die!”
Anxiety is “Congratulations! Two of your friends have died this year alone! One ******* hates you! Oh! HAHA! Wait! They all ******* hate you!”
Anxiety can turn you from “Wow. I look kinda good today.” to ”DYSPHORIA! DYSPHORIA! DYSPHORIA!”
JUST ******* KIDDING!
ANXIETY IS STRESS!
AND MUCH
MUCH
MORE!!!!!!!!
Dec 29, 2015
Dec 29, 2015 at 3:50 PM UTC
Sa dami ng mga trabahong tumambak dahil hindi mo pa nagagawa
Mga papeles na nagpatung-patong na
Yung lamesa **** inaagiw na dahil hindi mo alam kung saan at paano magsisimula.
At mga istoryang di mo pa maisulat dahil nangangapa ka pa.
Isama mo na rin yung katrabaho **** nakakairita na sa tenga.
Dahil crush niya daw si Justin Bieber
At paborito niyang frappe sa Starbucks ay Caramel.
Kahit mukhang ang afford niya lang ay Nescafe “Oo nga pala, French Vanilla” na iniinom ni Toni Gonzaga.
Pero wala siyang pambili ng sarili niyang tumbler.
Tangina.
Idagdag mo pa ang mga patay na oras na sunod-sunod ang mga buntong-hininga
Nahuli ka pa ng boss mo na nakatulala
Kaya hayan at napagalitan ka pa.
At dahil contractual ka, yung limang buwan na kontrata mo
Biruin mo, baka mapaaga pa ang endo.
Aminin mo na ang pagpatak ng alas-singko
Ay may kakaibang dalang saya.
Na parang sumagot na ng “oo” yung matagal mo nang nililigawan.
Nakulayan na rin yung mga pinlano niyong outing na buong akala niyo’y hanggang drawing na lang.
Parang pagbabalik sa Pilipinas ng kasintahan **** kumayod sa ibang bansa.
Parang ibinalita sa TV na hindi traffic ngayon sa EDSA.
Himala!
Kaya ang pagsapit ng alas-singko ay kakambal ng paglaya.
Wala sa’yo kung sa bus man ay tayuan
O kaya sa dyip ay makasabit man lang.
Basta makauwi ka lang.
Nakakasabik pa rin ang ideya
Na ang bawat pag-uwi
Ay kasing banayad ng mayroong sasalubong sa’yong ngiti
Mga ngiting papawi sa kangalayan ng mga binti.
Mayroong yakap na nakaabang
Ang mga bisig na nagmistulang pinakapaborito **** kulungan
Dahil doon mo nararamdaman ang tunay na kalayaan.
Mula sa pang-aalipin sa’yo ng lipunan.
Nakahain na rin ang hapunan.
“Mahal, ano ba ang ulam?”
Sabayan natin ito ng mahabang kwentuhan.
Simulan natin sa simpleng kamustahan.
Dahil pagkatapos, ay aabangan mo na naman ang alas-singko kinabukasan.
May 20, 2016
May 20, 2016 at 11:11 AM UTC
I fished a movie
hoping to cast a reel
that catches a keeper
hook, line, and sinker
I waded in line
smiling
the tackle box optimism in my sights
butterfly's in my net
visions of a hotrod
I look up at the marque
with a good cast and reel
my boats singing
a song that's hooked on love
I enter the theatre
among the trees
branching towards my spot
such forestry
I race past the mainstream
hotrod in tow
I take to my seat
setting anchor to a fun outing
as the lights abate
skip to my Lou
at bay
watching the cast make a splash
Logan Robertson
8/2/2018
Aug 2, 2018
Aug 2, 2018 at 3:21 PM UTC
Hoes
Outing
Mostly
Everything
Cause
Our
Manatees
Instant message them
Nudes
Jan 24, 2014
Jan 24, 2014 at 11:10 PM UTC
The progression of Huntington's disease often leads to the need of a wheelchair. My husband resisted using a wheelchair for many years, even though his poor balance and tiredness meant he was prone to falls. I didn't exactly pressurise him into using one. To be honest it was not just because it was another sign of loss of independence, but it would have been harder for me too in many respects.
What I wasn't prepared for, when the time came, was the social stigma attached to wheelchair users insofar as becoming a kind of non-entity! In a weekly blog I wrote in 2008 I wrote about the first time I took my husband out in a wheelchair. It angered me how peoples’ attitudes seemed to change overnight.
Walking down the High Street,
Hand in hand like lovers,
The couple blend into the crowd,
No different from the others.
As the years go by though,
His body having changed,
Has sadly meant a wheelchair,
Has had to be arranged.
Strolling down same High Street,
The woman now behind,
Her lover needing pushing,
Steep pavements so unkind.
Entering the bar now,
With awkward navigation;
People jump to open door,
Aware of situation.
“Thank you” says the man in chair,
When wheeled into the place;
“Welcome” say the helpers there,
But all avoid his face.
Carer gets the “Welcome” mouthed,
No looks with him they share;
Let’s treat this fellow human being,
As if he wasn't there.
Jul 21, 2015
Jul 21, 2015 at 7:39 AM UTC
It’s my river,
Giving me the life
The sky is there on the other side,
Tears roll down from the sky
To my river
Feels the fathom
My river roars….
Bring tears like anything
The furious river breaks home,
Washes golden fields
Their dreams are shattered
……………
It’s the same river
This side is the heaven
We enjoy the beautifully setting sun
Searching out poems of life
Picnics, outing, retiring life,
Smiles, laughter and everything….
But
The sky on the other side,
It remains gloomy
May it be Majuli or Dhemaji
Dreams go away forever with the river
I cry for those dreams,
Curse my river
The same river…
That gives me life,
It’s my river still
And will always be!!
May 1, 2015
May 1, 2015 at 10:55 AM UTC
It was about six in the evening
Six in the evening when juvenile lust is tumescent
And Anne McKilroy made her lips available
To mine
In the back of the choir outing charabanc
She did not mind the smell of corn beef
Lingering from my lunch time sandwich
Jul 29, 2014
Jul 29, 2014 at 9:57 PM UTC
I took my ****** sister Marigold to the cinema,
she had asked specifically and eventually
(she doesn't speak a lot on account of her awful stammer
and amazing cleft palate which has won prizes)
so I knew that this was something she really wanted,
and I teased for her bad taste
when she told me that she wanted to see
"Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Charlie
and the Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Chocolate Factory".
It was a Saturday evening and the local picture house
was showing a re-run of the classic starring Gene Wilder
as the enigmatically stylish ***** Wonka,
and not that steaming great pictorial **** served up by Tim Burton
and I knew that town would be busy with oiks
so as a treat I dressed her up better than usual,
and even gave her a hosedown to get rid of the poopy pong.
She had stopped crying by the time the feature started
and I think the Ooompa Loompa costume grew on her
but that maybe the orange paint was a bit of a bad idea
as people had stared as it was Day-Glo and she stood out
like a bulldog's ******* but I stand by my decision
to dye her hair green, it had taken thought and planning;
it was meant to add to her excitement of the day,
so I meant well, even if I was ineffectual in the end.
I sat her on my lap in the picture house
but still paid for two seats but I do get one ticket half price
though because of her disabilities, so it wasn't all bad,
every cloud and all that, you know what I mean?
She tends to get a little down every now and then
but a £1 cinema ticket partly makes up for being born legless.
I knew from past experience that the cinema staff
prefer me to carry my stunted sis rather than wheeling her in
(I do recall that the time I taped her to her skateboard
proved somewhat a disaster - but really, the fat usher
had a torch and should have watched her step
or otherwise she wouldn't have bust her neck).
The Ooompa Loompa costume allowed Marigold
to amuse herself during the screening
(as there were no leggings to the costume).
She barely noticed when the fat little hero
got blown up on screen except to dribble "chocolate"
from her own little chocolate factory.
It was, all in all, quite an eventful outing
and one I might consider repeating but
probably in a different cinema next time,
mainly because we got banned for life
when the manager saw the condition of the seat.
Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 8:06 AM UTC
Happy little earthworm
Excited as he can be
Invited for an outing
Was hoping he was free
An invitation sent quickly
An answer sent so soon
Reply, my family has to go as well
And we can’t stay out past noon
No worry, there is room for all
They’ll know what they’d be missing
Past noon, no problem there you see
We are only going fishing
Jul 5, 2010
Jul 5, 2010 at 1:20 PM UTC
Drifting off in mid-day
She is there in my parent's house
Where she should not be
She's never met them
been inside their home
...and besides
She's dead...
Don't know where I drop my brains off
or my heart
when sleeping
I so clearly know this
but I dismiss it
for the moment--
go along with joy
to have her with me once again
She looks so well!
Her pale skin flushed
below her ragged, reddish hair
Wearing peacock blue sateen
as always
dressed to ****
to go somewhere
anywhere
away
from loneliness
from cancer
...and she had included me
on her glorious outing
without title
without honor
I had been her teacher-friend
like an elder wedding guest
she had grown
beyond ...
She helps me dump my canvas bag of poems
on my parent's bed
Where I conceived them
or they conceived me
“What about this one?
Or this is a good one too!
I know you can do this!
You read so well!”
she says
I'm thinking, “This is not like Jenn,
so reversed
for her to give a thought...
and besides, it is not even my event!"
Now she's in my mother's place
in her 1950's closet
pushing hangers across the rail
She would find it--
something
I could wear
I am so transported by the smell
of memories
that I don't care
mothballs, lavender, perfume
I get distracted deep within
almost losing track in the euphoria
to have found my friend again
I lose a moment in the soft fur of mom's mink
clipped together mouth to tail
to form the stole
an ouroboros
With its beady eyes
on me
like death
would drape across my shoulders
given half a chance
When from its mouth of glamorous lies....
Jenn shoves me through life's opened door
She has found that dress!
I wore...
the one with hope, and future's
purple flowers
dropped waist and scalloped neck
Yes, It would do, “Yes!"
But now,
she makes excuse to leave
...of meeting Joe
...of going on ahead...
I know
she must
as this is all some clabbered past
a gift of dreams
Still, I want to hug her
just one last....
but she feels empty...
In embrace
she turns to ash
Jun 25, 2018
Jun 25, 2018 at 3:49 PM UTC
First you are born
Then everyone experiences the same firsts, just at different time bursts
Your first cuddle
Your first smile
Your first solid food
Your first tooth
Your first steps
Your first word
Your first shoes
Your first lullaby
Your first haircut
With your family you begin to create memorable firsts that last a lifetime.
Your first time holding a knife and fork
Your first visit to the park
Your first birthday
Your first visit to Father Christmas
Your first time riding a bike
Your first time going on a hike
Your first time roller skating
Your first time climbing a tree
Your first time grazing your knee
Your first holiday
Your first swimming lesson
Your first school
Your first exam
Your first cinema outing
Your first visit to the zoo
Your first ice cream
Next moving into your teens and the firsts that period brings, some of angst and fallen dreams.
Your first spot on your face
Your first period
Your first High Heel shoes
Your first boyfriend or girlfriend
Your first kiss
Your first broken heart
Your first day at High School
Your first crush on a Teacher
Your first forever friend
Your first day at College
Your first interview
Your first job
Your first driving lesson
Your first car
When you are older, if you are lucky, you find someone to share experiences with and your firsts become 1+1 = 2
When we first met
Our first date
Our first touch
Our first kiss
Our first dance
Our first song
Our first concert
Our first house
Our first child
Our first trip to the beach
Our first trip to the rugby
Our first trip to the speedway
Our first holiday at home
Our first holiday abroad
Our first ride on a train
Our first trip on an aeroplane
Our first car
Our first new car
Our first summer ball
Our first Winter ball
Our first trip to a museum
Our first grandchild
Looking for the firsts in life, will give you a life full of fun and surprise.
Reach for the first no matter what you do, keeping life interesting and new.
A life full of firsts will keep you young at heart.
Keep seeking out the firsts, until the day you depart.
Jul 4, 2018
Jul 4, 2018 at 5:41 PM UTC
Texas early night sky
nightstands
like deserted islands
next to rumpled bed
fake hibiscus in bloom
clipped onto curtains
favorite lip glosses
cradled in basket
on vanity sink
sparkly bead earrings
displayed in
see-through pockets
on stuffed closet door
silken blouse draped
on spare chair
awaiting an outing
candy wind hibiscus
sways in the breeze
a playground for lizards
my face
when I realize
you are looking at me
handsome man
Apr 20, 2014
Apr 20, 2014 at 1:55 PM UTC
Delicate tang spritzes the air with a sunshine kiss
Peeling so gently it's lady-like tenderness is an elegant tea party with white gloved fingers and daisies on the mantle
Her majesty will be pleased!
A romantic encounter of citrus delight and sun-bathed security in ever loving om and happiness
A candidate as sweet could never be asked for such a casual Sunday outing and for you my dear we are but a shared slice of raspberry accented pie
So powerful but yet so softly subdued...
Like piano ballads or string quartets it is here simply for our glorious consumption
An ode to you my Sunday sweet orange!
May my taste buds always dazzle upon your arrival
Mar 14, 2013
Mar 14, 2013 at 9:20 PM UTC
*shackle burns rub on through
long time comin’ too cells long out due
dooryard outing air comes short and timely
break today’s habit for tomorrow’s wise fellow
broadcasting brew; vomity yellow
pregnant and ******* up you did wrong
barren flesh in the obliterate womb
was it worth such worth enough to stop eating brood
stop thinking about just you
who is that in you?
a Christian?
Atheist?
or you split in two?*
Sep 22, 2010
Sep 22, 2010 at 1:30 PM UTC
We can all spit on those tablets of stone,
the trinity's on hiatus,
the devil's alone,
School's out for training
it's raining hell fire and the bishops
are recording the antediluvian choir.
Noah's going to Goa,
A lot safer than here,
they say Indian beer's the best.
With his wood and an axe and
several packs of cool Cobra, he sails
into the wind and ends up in the Gobi.
On the edge of a rainbow
'jump Noah',
'don't go',
two people are shouting,
somebody's outing the sailor.
The choir got wrecked on microdot specks and
suspecting the worst, the bishops in Rome
all spit on the tablets hacked out from rough stone,
it was a quiet day in the Vatican, no miracles pronounced
in Perpignan, no Lady of Lourdes, no shroud of Turin,
only the blessing of Geneva dry gin.
Angels with harps all ****** as farts and
the devil sits alone.
Apr 10, 2015
Apr 10, 2015 at 6:45 AM UTC
At weekends in mid-August if the weather sunny
A girl dresses in bright fluorescent pink socks
The sort sold three in a pack at the local market
Puts on her best T- bar white shoes and is ready.
A family outing which included a younger brother;
And a bundle of toys, cricket bat and picnic bags
The train went from Tooting Bec to Mordon station
And from there a tiring walk was undertaken.
Delightful it was with the cow- parsley and crickets
Red Admiral butterflies and leaf blossom on the trees
The siblings, only eighteen months apart, thought
They could barely wait to arrive at their special spot.
And so they did, well before one o’clock, in high spirits
Racing the river as it flowed hidden behind iron railings
Nettles in the tall grass and air scented meadow- sweet
To the trunk improvised seat by The Wandle .
Love Mary x
'
Nov 20, 2018
Nov 20, 2018 at 10:04 AM UTC
The new year is never happy for me
It marks a new year without you
Another month without a gathering
Another week without a lunch outing
And another day without a phone call
I talk to you still
Less often than when you first left
But every new year I'm sure to catch you up
The kids have gotten so big
My parents have finally matured
I've finally grown up
Can make responsible decisions
Not living purely on my emotions
All of this growth stems from you
It hurts my heart knowing you'll never see any of it
Jan 3, 2019
Jan 3, 2019 at 2:36 AM UTC
A man's pet
is a female dog
Outing with others,
is a specie of fox,
Every day night.
A man is worrying,
and, fumbling in the
darkness of a night.
Looking for his cutest,
is a beautiful *****
.............
Jul 17, 2020
Jul 17, 2020 at 4:55 AM UTC
long after these thousand days of
passing years, the eyes will feel a
sparking, I will remember you,
my dear old friends, reviewing
the where, the when, which will
flush, outing the whys
from my
memories
more than the poetic liturgy composed,
but what felled me to my knees,
yearning,
for the soup of love and passion,
pain+no gain, euphorias rising at the
trenching lows of depths
newly explored, hope returning after a
long time abandonment, the
excruciating ecstasy
of creating, the killing tedium of
months of no inspiration but the
glint of a possible tomorrow
but you knot all this,
so come to tell you,
long after the poem
encased in yellowing
emerald unwrapping
aging megabytes, more
than any old poem itself,
I wil remember what you
wrote in return, with insight
all we are, we are an interaction
a petrified yet living petri dish of
creatures re/anew,
r e n e w e d, and I am
young again
and the tears of yore no more,
fresh flowering droplets of
a longer than believable age,
factuals of the sweet,
you will move once
more, remaking me
your lover devotee
and I wil stumble;
the woman enquirer
am I ok, whimsy
respond never,
never ever better
my darling
and I lift a tissue
to erase the evidence
of my happy melancholic
existence, and start another
conversation with you, but no!
one of us long gone, name
erased, poems left behind,
orphaned children, them
and me left alone while
I will be remembered,
by remembering you,
our second of union
as it
reverberates, our amour
reunion is a wetting,
giving forth a burst,
a fluid sac,
again
Sep 20, 2024
Sep 20, 2024 at 7:51 AM UTC
When again in Joyous MAE
where Weeping willows bow and sway
and Martin swoops from hollowed eave
to where Victoria bids us leave
down railway track by home bound Duck
and motion sickness makes us Chuck
smelling salts from moonlight blossoms
as Marian asks what's a possum
Hilda and Tim try to explain
as Bala steps onto this train
he greets with smiles sweet Linda there
as Edward offers him a chair
Thoughts Forgotten as we chill
my Dry Sapphire Gin I knock and spill
cussing Profanity too loud
I shock so many of this crowd
Sammi Sweetie red of face
covers the ears of Madison Grace
Jerelii turns to poor Prabhu
and asks him soft what can we do
Frederick hands to her a tissue
and Vijay says good luck I wish you
Rena Em and poor old Quentin
have not returned when they were sent in
offering advice and gentle aide
and Lee and Jimmy knelt and prayed
Harlow ran and Blackmire followed
both too afraid their courage swallowed
Floaters pointed to Anon C
and said aloud you come with me
Something we knew was ours has gone
but look his Sisters just got on
So Daytonight spoke I'll cuff his ears
to stop him swearing now my dears
Embers knew shed blow her top
so quickly Rose and said ... My stop
Jan 28, 2013
Jan 28, 2013 at 11:04 PM UTC
Standing, waiting, watching,
Business suit,
Old hag,
***** mac smoking a ***
Standing, waiting, watching,
Metal cans whizzing past,
Anonymous faces,
Rushing to places.
Standing, waiting, watching,
Kids screaming till red in the face,
Mums shouting,
Some days outing.
Standing, waiting, watching,
Monster coming,
Almost to its fill,
Collecting me as usual for the treadmill.
Standing, waiting, watching.
Feb 26, 2011
Feb 26, 2011 at 4:54 AM UTC
Your lovely little daughter
Was wonderfully bright
But she had a face which
Boys would run from on sight
In your jealous eyes
You saw them come to me
With endless promises of love
Happiness and matrimony
You harped on my flaws
And crushed my dreams
So that everyone could see
The crooked way you saw me
The scars on my wrists
Just brightened your day
“How could a boy love you
Since you’ve acted this way?”
So many thoughts and jibes
Ran through my mind
But the only thing said was
“My girlfriend likes me just fine.”
Sep 6, 2013
Sep 6, 2013 at 12:12 PM UTC
09-15-2012
Saturday morning and Grandpa rounded up the grand kids, Tony and Lucy, for a little excursion. Excitement was running high for we were going to the City Park and… there was to be hot dogs, burgers and drinks and STUFF, which they thoroughly enjoyed. Before we left on our fun-outing, I had printed out a copy of a poem I had written for Tony when he was a year old called "Ice Cream". He is now a big seven. There were many booths setup which we visited… gathering STUFF (pencils, etc).
We stopped at a booth that was for grandparents raising grandkids. While we talked with the lady at the booth I remembered the poem in my back pocket. I gave it to her to read and we continued on down the line gathering STUFF (pencils, candy and BUBBLES). On the return trip we stopped again at the grandparents booth. The lady commented, the poem brought tears to her eyes. Then she said, “this was written from the heart”. At that time Tony interjected with, “No. Grandpa just sits down and write them on the computer keyboard.” Yup! That is how it REALLY happens. There were chuckles and smiles all around. Tony is grandpa’s most ardent promoter for his web sight . He tells people the domain-name to find writings. There is one piece he particularly enjoys telling people to check out called "The Boy Called Tony" . Go figure!
Sep 19, 2012
Sep 19, 2012 at 11:38 AM UTC