"oversize" poems
I am crazy enough to want to be with you.
The craving is cruelly immense.
I am crazy enough to love only you.
The feeling is truly intense.
I am crazy enough to perfectly see you.
The flaws are secluded.
I am crazy enough to not see the lie of you.
The pain you cause is excluded.
I am crazy enough that no pain hurts me deeply.
The wound is convinced to never be shown.
I am crazy enough to forgive you for whatever reason.
The issue is decided all on her own.
I am crazy enough to trust your every word.
The persuasive tone defeats all doubt.
I am crazy enough to think you don’t do it on purpose.
The subliminal actions are pointed out.
I am crazy enough to say they're not real.
The truth is something I refuse to believe.
I am crazy enough to not care about myself.
The heart continues to be worn on my sleeve.
I am crazy enough to do anything.
The one you once loved will always be here.
I am crazy enough to admit that person is me.
The instant you call, I'll immediately appear.
I am crazy enough to drop everything to get to you.
The things I’d do are unthinkable.
I am crazy enough to save you from any danger
The effort inside of me is unsinkable.
I am crazy enough to let you use me.
The hope helps me think otherwise.
I am crazy enough to give you everything I have.
The hurt, I know, will oversize.
I am crazy enough to not care what happens to me.
As long as you are happy.
I am crazy for you and the joy you bring.
I hope this doesn’t sound too sappy.
I am crazy enough to keep on trying.
The damage can be somewhat repaired.
I am crazy enough to risk failure.
At least I showed you that I cared.
I am crazy enough to walk in the pouring rain.
The coldness of the weather won't stop me.
I am crazy enough to think I'm invincible.
The pieces that are left wish to agree.
I am crazy enough to prove to you how strongly I feel.
The energy inside is a fresh supply.
I am crazy enough to face the deepest darkness.
I can save you in a blink of an eye.
I am crazy enough to put myself out there to protect you.
The shield of my body won't let anything through.
I am crazy enough to wash away all your fear.
The touch of our fingers is the cue.
I am crazy enough to want to be crazy forever.
The comfort of your company is top of the line.
I am crazy enough to be crazy for you.
The way I am, is the master's design.
Jan 14, 2012
Jan 14, 2012 at 5:57 PM UTC
I wear stupid glasses unlike her
Teardrops are my own makeup
Looking at you is my dose
I just wanna be with you so close
I wear oversize shirts incomparable to her
She wears tight jeans and lovely corsets
I walk through the dirtiest streets at night
She sways and enjoys her princess life at bright
I roll over my untidiest bed
She amazes everyone with her lips at red
I glaze the road with my unfixed hair
She roams the cities and turns it to a funfair
I could not do all of that
I could not even give you what you want
This feeling is only what I got
I said it through this poem 'coz I can't be blunt
I am afraid to tell you everything
You are my best friend and you are my everything
Why are you so numb of what I am feeling?
Is it because I am not what you are dreaming?
If only I could be that girl
But I can not.
Because I just wanted to be me
The girl who slowly kills herself
The girl who keeps on pretending
That she loves seeing you happy with that luckiest girl
May 20, 2015
May 20, 2015 at 4:05 AM UTC
slipping little feet into mothers shoes
lipstick deforms little pink lips
plastic curlers tangle knots
hands wiggle free from oversize cloths
that child is me
i am that child today
bewildered by our society
a child i stay.
Apr 19, 2014
Apr 19, 2014 at 1:50 AM UTC
Appa’s demise has put a load of care on me,
The family is dependent on me,
There’s a boat leaving tomorrow night,
They say it’s the last one for this quarter,
We need to leave.
The conditions here are getting worse by the day,
The playgrounds are unrecognizable,
The schools are no longer functioning,
My friends are nowhere in sight.
They say the boat is the only option out of our land,
Tiko’s family left with the boat two months ago,
This is the time when one prefers somewhere else to home,
We really cannot miss the boat.
The sunrise makes its way through my cracked window curtain made from mother’s clothes,
But it’s only a reminder of yet another day,
I must say it looks beautiful but sad,
Every new day seems never to be different,
I hope to take steps that will not lead to my death, a loved one or a neighbour.
I heard the camp is not so great but it’s safer than here
The boat is small and there are many of us.
I am lucky because unlike Rasheed’s family;
We are just three and they are ready to fit us in the boat,
No one wants to leave their loved ones behind.
The driver starts the engine,
The journey has begun,
The journey to nowhere,
Everyone has the look of fear and uncertainty,
What lies ahead, no one can surely tell.
The boat is moving,
The sea breeze feels amazing,
Am not sure how long it will last,
Appa is dead, leaving mother and Hassan with me,
The driver says it will take all night.
We have life vests and floaters,
Mine is largely oversize,
I have not been eating properly,
I hear there is food at the destination.
The sea is calm,
The driver is whistling,
The woman sitting beside mother have been crying,
She had to leave her children behind
Again, I am very lucky.
We are getting closer and it is getting cold,
The engine does not sound right,
The driver looks panicked,
He assures everyone it’s nothing to worry about,
The tide is rising and it’s still dark,
We can see the lights at our destination
Water is getting into the boat,
Everyone is panicking,
The man beside me throws his bag into the sea and gets ready to dive,
The next person does the same,
Maybe I should do the same?
Mother and I can swim but how about Hassan who cannot?
There is a bigger boat coming,
It seems like we won’t be drowning,
I have seen my death so many times,
I am no longer scared when in danger,
The boat rescued us; we are ashore in this land where our fate will be decided
Now what?
Apr 28, 2020
Apr 28, 2020 at 6:20 PM UTC
Old corn farmers on a smoke break
Wearing old hats and ***** shirts
Talking about rainbows and politics
Alligators evolve so as the raven
Their claws soon become useless
Just like the human brain
An owl cautiously moved into the limelight
Wearing oversize diamond and opal
Hoping he doesn't look like an animal
Lips like cherries and a tongue like strawberries
She has all the makings of a total fruit cake
Who will think she stings like a snake?
I am afraid our eyes are bigger than our brain
That we have more curiosity than understanding
For we grasp all but catch nothing but wind
Jan 12, 2013
Jan 12, 2013 at 2:10 PM UTC
Light breeds shadow
In the form of fear
Consuming my immortality bit by bit
Creating a fiend
That guzzle up my happiness
Till the deepest core of my conscience
Remorselessly
Piecemeal
I am dying from my own trepidation
That agitates me
Whether to choose malevolence
That is sweet and warming
Or to choose benevolence
That is pain and suffering
Only the saint's heart will find its way
With the least tainted loopholes
Gifted by the brute to the paradise god has created
Destitute and feeling obselete
Failed to be absolute
I seclude myself
To a silence so deafening
And the temperature is dropping
While the loneliness is creeping
In fetal position
On this oversize king bed
With blue bed shed
But no blanket
Vainer, i thought.
Jan 11, 2016
Jan 11, 2016 at 10:29 AM UTC
words on every corner
reach out with LED lights and capital letters
OVERSIZE LOAD and RECYCLED FASHION
demand an appetite for peripheral attention
bashful graffiti is tentative to show his smirk
unsure if he is welcome in this delicate urban zoo
where ponytailed dogs and homeless hands
share the same sallow sidewalk bricks
look up!
see the royal sorbet sky
he raises his wispy brows
as a crane lowers its dragon neck
into the safety of its concrete den
how dare such a beast encroach
on the heavenly domain of clouds
all day a man sits in contradiction
crisp collar and stolen office chair
handing out desperate news for dollar bills
as tattered as his tiny hands
I wonder if the cigarette ****
feels worthless, now alone
dreaming to once again be puffed
being flattened by rubber soles
years ago this was home land
rich, taut and quietly loved
the earth soaked in moon's pearl balm
where his eyelashes touched the ground
Everybody knows the city always listens
through the scattered trees left here to stand
when our footsteps seem like only feathers
lost in the echoes of civilization
street now veiled by velvet
a cradle for eyes to close
the lamplight is my guiding star
i see illuminated faces
in hazy windows
and the flash and beam
of passing car
Aug 29, 2015
Aug 29, 2015 at 6:55 PM UTC
Chances.
How many do you get?
How many do you want?
You can take them.
Or you can steal them.
But who do you steal them from?
Only so many are given.
It's advised not to push the limits.
Although there are all too many gimics.
Of chances I mean.
How do you know when you get one?
How do you know when you loose one?
Often you're told,
often they're sold.
They're traded from person to person.
Given, taken, stolen, awakened.
Sometimes people don't want to give them.
Because maybe you took too many.
Maybe you just took them without asking.
People don't like that,
When you take things without asking.
It makes them feel used.
A feeling all too common I see.
If you take a chance.
You can choose the size.
It's best advised,
you measure it.
Because from time to time,
People don't.
They let someone else choose for them.
You don’t want the wrong size
Not everyone knows your size
That’s why you’re supposed to choose for yourself
You can't wear clothes that are too big.
You'll look foolish.
That's why you return them.
But you can't return chances.
There are no receipts.
No repeats.
Only advances,
To places that lead to more chances,
If you’re lucky.
Chances are not redos.
So don't dare think they are.
Or you'll look foolish in your oversize suit.
During your life long commute.
People always remember the ones you take.
And especially the ones you steal.
So don't trip on your pride.
Because soon it'll be the only thing you’ve got.
Sep 18, 2018
Sep 18, 2018 at 10:47 PM UTC
Où est mon coeur?
Where is my heart?
It's pitter-pat is strangely gone
And there is a strange
Emptiness that I
Can't
Quite
Appreciate
I have sought it
Since the sun peeked through my curtains
And the spurt of a swiftly ended dream
Woke me suddenly... too suddenly!
But I could not hear drumming in my ears
Or a pounding in my chest
There was nothing.
There was silence.
Où est mon couer?
Is it holding my place betwixt two chapters of a book?
Non.
But if often rolls around in words. Funny that it would not be there!
Is it hiding in a flower ***
Non.
But it often hides in the ground hoping to grow. Strange that it would not be there!
Is it under the bed?
Non.
Stranger still. It often keeps the dust bunnies company.
Où est mon couer?
The panic
Is starting
To drive me
A little bit
Mad.
How could I have lost it?
Où est ma tête?
I am usually so good
At keeping it caged up
Penned in
Out-of-bounds
Locked away
Strange that it would vanish in the middle of the night
Without a sound
Without a trace!
Unless
Someone found it
Stumbling across it
In the foggy half-world of my dream
And picked it up
And put it in an oversize pocket
Stealing it
In a dream-act
That bleeds into my reality
Sep 5, 2014
Sep 5, 2014 at 3:14 PM UTC
Handheld hand me downs
stained with wrinkles of time
of another's experiences
A saint's keep of innocent exposure
but being around towns
Oversize shoes, told to grow in them
socks of socket pockets, storing stories
tightly fitting jeans, when they were
first called feminine
T-shirt stains, pressed collar golf shirts
of course to those wanting to ball
with high fades, and a pair of high cut Converse
We converse our words to sound a little cool
And knowing nothing more painful as a new
pair of school shoes
We just loved hanging around with the
best looking clothes off the hanger
Nowadays we don't dress to inspire—
but just dress to pass the flu of deciding
which ridiculous trend is much flyer
_Sigh!_
Nov 11, 2022
Nov 11, 2022 at 3:16 PM UTC
There once was this place called the Corner
Attracting each poet and mourner
It would seem like the place
Where lyrics of grace
And beauty would make them feel warmer
But sadly the Corner would swarm
With predators seeking to warm
Their oversize egos
And feed their libidos
With chatting up girls as their form
As their poetic skills would deflate
They would rather on *** concentrate
So their primitive verse
Became far more perverse
When their critics would start to debate
Mar 3, 2013
Mar 3, 2013 at 5:06 AM UTC
A tackle with the wind, a tackle with
these modern day kids. _Good grief,_
as I used to be; childish cares gone in the wind.
A mud crack on a leaf, to leave a
sound of mud cakes I'd make. Under the sun,
till dusk had set; using it's heat to bake.
A first kiss by a door, both parents a few
rooms away to get caught. Curiosity gained
from movie love scenes; tasting the worth.
A bicycle pedal, cycling carelessly. So freeing
to be allowed to ride up and down streets. But
we were young boys of trouble; disturbing the peace.
A stanza getting longer, words can't fit. And like
my mother buying oversize clothing. Barely fitting
in; whether in crowds or clothes in the surrounding.
A procrastinator, in doing first good. Lazy to decisions
of no self benefits. At a time only wanting a final gain
in rewards; you'd expect from growing a little penniless.
A grown boy now, a man faced in the mirror. A face of time
and the lessons experienced. Truly I've seen how much I've
grown; I've grown so much to shed a tear.
A story of growth as you read.
Jun 23, 2022
Jun 23, 2022 at 1:17 PM UTC
Why did you do this to my soul?
My world has been so cold
Ever since you walked out that door
I don't feel like living anymore
The dreams I have about you is nothing more than nightmares to me now
And all I have to say is wow
I gave you ALL my love, I did what I had to do to make you happy
And what I get in return a bunch of "honesty"
"Oh Vinod, I would never cheat on you"
Well guess what ***** you just did, you don't know what you put me through.
All of those "I love yous" was just lies
You were my prize but now you're oversize
You're a lying fat *****
Good thing I scored!
Jan 10, 2013
Jan 10, 2013 at 11:53 PM UTC
She’d gone on her own to the party,
But sadly, for she was alone,
Her partner had left her in limbo,
Had not even said he was going.
A month had gone by, with never a word
And nothing to say why he’d gone,
She looked in the mirror for why she was spurned
But life, as it does, carries on.
Nothing had changed in her that she could see,
She still had her beautiful hair,
Her lips were as full as they ever could be,
Her eyes had that hypnotic stare.
Her figure was slim, and as firm as it was
When her partner decided to leave,
If there was a problem, it had to be him,
Which left her no reason to grieve.
The party she went to was stranger than strange,
With Bogans, Goth make-up and Greens,
She guessed that their ages for most of them ranged
From middle-aged matrons to teens.
A pair of Goth sisters were eyeing her off
And flattering her, to deceive,
‘My, there is a beauty, the best of the lot,
I’d fit her, I think, with a squeeze.’
They twittered and tittered between them, the two,
Whose beauty had long gone to seed,
Whatever they’d had, it was plain that it flew
When excess took over from need.
They fed her with drinks and exotic confects
That she hardly liked to refuse,
Her hold on the present was slight, I reflect,
Her sadness was yesterday’s news.
The ugliest sister, whose name was July,
Rolled in like a mist to her brain,
The cunning of eyes and a whispered surprise
Made her think she was going insane.
She felt herself ebbing, and losing control
As July held her hands in her own,
And then somehow gelling with tissues and cells in
Some fatness that she’d never known.
She watched through a mist as the girl she had been
Laughed loudly, and then turned away,
Embracing the sister, that other unclean,
‘We’ll get you one, some other day!’
Her body felt loose, like an oversize suit
And her lips could but slobber and cry,
‘What have they done to my beautiful youth,’
As she turned to a mirror, to cry.
David Lewis Paget
Mar 9, 2015
Mar 9, 2015 at 11:24 PM UTC
if you are chewing air before you swallow it
you have found the perfect diet
Feb 26, 2016
Feb 26, 2016 at 10:39 AM UTC
Netflix tonight!
The man of the house said
She said "Lets watch a chick flick"
But he wasn't having that.
"Let's watch Brando it's a classic"
was his next idea,
Last Tango in Paris!
Have you never seen it my dear?
They sat together watching with smart price popcorn and cheap wine
Then came the scene where the old boy grabbed the butter and suddenly it was all in the gutter
Engrosed and engorged or a mix of the two, he shouted get some butter,
"I'll try that with you"
It looked fun at first till she got to his fridge
She opend the door and no butter could she see.
Smart price lard was all that was there, this wasn't Chester oh what a mess
We have none she said in a voice of relief
And headed for bed without a buttered rear seat
Half an hour later then came the shock
The cook came to bed with dripping on his ****
Naked and ****** and wanting a bunk
She fled the bedroom before he could mount
In a nighty like a wigwam caught in the breeze and her funbags unbridled
Down to her knees
She screamed to the neighbours he's trying to **** me with a lard coverd **** and an oversize belly
The police came quick, just like he did
They couldn't stop laughing at his melted dipstick
Take him away the Sgt said
That's the last Tango in Noctorum
He'll have with her!!
Feb 11, 2017
Feb 11, 2017 at 2:56 PM UTC
In this prison full of lies
The cells are oversize
But the walls...
They ain't made of concrete bricks,
They ain't breaking with just six
Wrecking ball kicks.
And the windows...
Oh, my sweet child, the windows...
They don't even exist.
There's no piercing light,
No chasing dreams, no flying kite,
No escaping hopes,
Just me and my thoughts...
I'm pacing blind
In this prison that's my mind.
Aug 17, 2019
Aug 17, 2019 at 5:30 PM UTC
Diabolical optical ron stoppable
At your ****** scene
Outlining my master scheme
Cause casket raising is a persuasion
Like Asians
No I rather tackle your brain
So me and CTE are kinda the same
I want to bend your sense of reality to insane
And have you drive your Ferrari into flames
Distorting your social norms
And dissolving consequence
Im like the purge but with more confidence
Run away, scream, or fight back
I like all the above
Cause without a outlet
I would need a plug
See thats the headlines media dimes
Oversize to prioritize what we should
Cannibalize in our social lives
Yet I get hate because I’m wise
This owl is putting who on a loop
Like who made bohemian grove?
Who is willie lynch?
Who runs the new slave trade?
Yeah I’m the two of spades
Cutting into your shady grin
Cause these political jokers
Are two faced like a double chin
But nobody sees there’s villainous
To spew venomous at
The innocent to make them descent
While gain they cents all for
There sinful lent
And you say I’m bent
Naw I’m the anti hero you need
Kinda like spawn if dark horse
Didn’t make him take a knee
So I don’t want glee or to live happily
Cause I love all the jeers and boos
I just wonder when Henrietta Lack cells
Will be in the news?
Sep 13, 2018
Sep 13, 2018 at 10:01 PM UTC
I am a man with so many wounds
I have been beaten for all my truths.
Yes, I get injured everyday
But I am always expected to bury my pain.
I am a traveller burdened by so many routes
Knowing nothing but expected to always know what to do.
My mind is a bank of unanswered questions
And yet, when doubts come, I am seen as a solution.
You can see why I always sweat in pleasures
I am always faced with faceless pressure.
My heart is a battlefield of countless thoughts
And my spirit is always busy knocking on locked doors.
So, don't be deceived by my smile,
I am not always fine.
I always wear oversize with shallow pockets
Working like a man fetching water in baskets.
Don't mind my suit,
Life has not been gentle to me too.
I am a man of faith,
Attempting a miracle everyday.
I am tired of hiding my story
But I am not asking for your sorry.
We all have our wars
And yours may be worse.
Hence, take me as a brother in the struggle
When you finally have enough, don't forget others in the circle.
I am still a man with so many wounds
I am rose-coloured that my healings will come soon.
Sep 26, 2019
Sep 26, 2019 at 1:33 AM UTC
i wanted to rip apart
every bit of my skin
I wanted to watch it rip like fabric
string from string
nothing stopped me from doing it
no one cared
I had to just stand there as the mocked me
all they did was laugh and stare
they laughed at my grades and how im a failure
little do they know I wanted to drop out and **** myself
little do they know they wars in my head prevent me from doing better
they stare at my body
im so annoyed by it
little do they know this is the first time in so long that I didn't ware an oversize shirt because of this fear
little do they know that starting at me
weather it be disgust
or to enjoy
it kills me
that they think they can do that just because.
I know im nothing
worthless
I know
but little do they know
how hard it was for me
to shove back my anger
to stop myself from letting rivers flow from my eyes
little do they know
oh how little they know
Feb 21, 2014
Feb 21, 2014 at 3:12 PM UTC
Clutches of Adversity
If only her distress could be weighed,
And all her misery be placed on the scales!
It would surely outweigh the sand of the seas__
No wonder her offsprings nuked her peace-eggs.
If only her pains could be rain,
And all her tears be flown to paradise!
It would surely outrank her wealth-eyes__
No wonder her progeny merry in poison.
If only her sorrow could be quenched,
And all her afflictions be banked like gold!
It would surely oversize the four pillars of the world__
No wonder terrors are marshaled against her world.
If only her hurt house havens in hell,
And all her agony be filmed in movies!
It would surely overshadow the kingdom of Israel__
No wonder famine thwarts the plans of the milk.
©AUTHOR KELLY JUUZ
[A salient prolific author...]
>> 11/07/2017
⊙01:08AM
Jul 29, 2017
Jul 29, 2017 at 8:44 AM UTC