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Aaron LaLux Sep 2019
Screen Crack [16]

Jesus!

What the fck,
wait, Jesus,  has nothing to do with this,

your hands glued to the latest PDA device,
hands glued along with your eyes,
seems you cling to your PDA  for dear life,
like it’s as important as a TAH, what’s a TAH look it up,

it’s a Total Artificial Heart,
you are the “art” in artificial,
since when did Personal Displays of Affection PDAs,
get replaced with Personal Digital Assistants,

no way phones could be the new PDAs I can’t accept that,
oh well I guess it’s the perfect sign of the times,
people used to show affection & kiss in public,
now they don’t even notice & the only kisses given are emojis,

no romance they don’t even hold hands show love or show up,

would rather ******* in silence than deal with this,
& maybe that makes me part of the problem,
see I could go out & try to socialize but I stay inside instead,
& don’t even mind ‘cause most people aren’t worth the stress,
plus it’s been so long since I’ve been in a relationship,
if I met someone I wouldn’t even know what to say anyways,
we replaced Empathy with Apathy eye contact with iPhones,
now we’re all bored Cyborgs & alienated Androids,

we keep avoiding each other instead of enjoying each other,  we keep assuming we are annoying each other,
which prevents us from successfully joining each other,
so we effectively self isolate ourselves from one another,

one step closer to an Anti-Social New World Order New Age,
every time we become afraid & walk away instead of engage,

would rather scatter than talk to someone,
in a way that could be construed as rude,
so we just walk-on & ignore every single someone,
even though one of those someones is you,

in the Narcissistic Network of this Sociopathic Society,
where the only certainty is that this cycle of denial is ******,
what the fck, totally stuck, mind fckt & ******,
into that lil cancer causing PDA your hot little hands hold,

Steve Jobs got cancer,
you think that’s a random freakin’ coincidence,
people that work with electronic devices their whole lives,
get sick & this is not just a few examples of isolated incidents,

it’s not a rumor that consumers get tumors from electronics,

even Stevie Wonder could see how Stevie Jobs got sick,
died in his mid 50’s alone & in bed thin as a stick,

all those billions couldn’t save him,
so what makes you think you’ll survive,
why should I care how you live if you don’t care how you die,
think you’re saving time on that portable electronic device,
but you’re living a lie wasting your life not saving your time,
because no one ever regrets spending less on screen time,
but people often regret not spending more time,
in nature attention undivided with loved ones by their side,
before they die, going to do you a favor, save you the trouble,
of spending your whole life chasing things on a digital screen,
I’m going to quote Steve Jobs’s last words here,
so you can start making changes now before it’s too late.

“I have come to the pinnacle of success in business.
In the eyes of others, my life has been the symbol of success.
However, apart from work, I have little joy. Finally, my wealth is simply a fact to which I am accustomed.
At this time, lying on the hospital bed & remembering all my life, I realize all the accolades & riches of which I was once so proud, have become insignificant with my imminent death.
In the dark, when I look at the green lights, of the equipment for artificial respiration, feel the buzz of their mechanical sounds, I can feel the breath of my approaching death looming over me.
Only now do I understand that once you accumulate enough money for the rest of your life, you have to pursue objectives that are not related to wealth.
It should be something more important:
For example, stories of love, art, dreams of my childhood.
No, stop pursuing wealth, it can only make a person into a twisted being, just like me.”…

See, now you’ve heard it directly from a genius,
so there you go don’t say I didn’t tell you so,
still you hear the final words of a brilliant billionaire,
& instead if take his advice you say “Who cares?”,

& that is actually a serious question, who cares?

Probably not me or you so why would we heed a warning,
no matter how wise the words were that were wrote,
we’re too busy trying to find fake treasures on Pokemon Go,
or read the latest news or scroll the latest posts,

seems all those Apples & Androids, have made us apathetic,
bit the forbidden fruit, in The Garden of Electronic Eden,
**** streaming has replaced actual ***, it takes less effort,
exchanged intimacy for IoT, replaced *** with EMFs,

no ******* just internet no farmer’s markets on weekdays,
just products on eBay & freebased sympathy that’s synthetic,
so we don’t feel the vibration of our brothers & sisters,
we just feel the vibration of our phones in our pocket,
we don’t notice the signs of our civilization in decline,
we just notice our phone’s notifications when they go off,

see the more connected we become to the virtual world,
the less connected we become to the actual world,

& I’m having a melt down,
witnessing everyone on their cell phones,
& I want to find a reason to believe in a real person to love,
but I feel like hope is gone & we’re all just lost without a home,
& I’m just as guilty as the rest of us,
‘cause I’m often also lost in the zone on my phone like a drone,

& I’m not religious but maybe we really do need Jesus,
maybe I really do need Jesus,
what the fck, wait,
Jesus,  has nothing to do with this,

a whole new generation of users has been created,
through the use of new additions of cell phones & laptops,
& some of the users are as young as 8 years old,
computers are the new & improved evolution of crack rock,
but family’s are so used to their kids using that they just shrug,
even though their kids are so addicted that they can’t stop,

some even enable kid’s addiction by buying them new editions,

cracked screens from dropping your phone,
gives you a minor heart attack,
oh how attractive cancer seems when it’s attractively wrapped,
in the form of an impersonal personalized phone case artifact,

Silver, Gold or Grey, SnapChat is the new black.

What the fck, hands glued to the latest PDA device,
hands glued along with your eyes,
seems you cling to your PDA  for dear life,
like it’s as important as a TAH, what’s a TAH, look it up,

look up look up,
you are alive in a body on these beautiful lands,
mathematically a 1 in 400 trillion chance of being born,
you’re literally the most amazing miracle you could ever have!

There’s a whole world out there,
please find someone to get to know & love,
because there’s probably someone right next to you right now,
that’s willing to give you their all & it’s obvious,

all you have to do to see is set down your phone & look up!
If you’d only just look up!

But, you’re too busy playing Pokemon Go to notice love,

I know, we’re part of a 1st World society,
& we all play our part by being passively compliant,
in order to be an accessory to our country’s atrocities,
so we get dressed up with the latest techno accessories,

I know,
you don’t want to think about it too much,
because then you might feel guilty, so you stay out of touch,
keeping your head down like you’re mourning a lost love,
there’s an actual psychological condition for this,
Cognitive Dissonance is what it’s called,

so you stay on your phone, not wanting to get involved,
because it’s easier to simply not feel,
won’t even make eye contact just want to be left alone,
because you’re conditioned to fear anything that’s real,

insecure & scared of the unknown you cling to your phone,

even though,
it’s the things we’re most comfortable with that usually **** us,
cars cigarettes alcohol cell phones,
I’m telling you addiction to technology is a serious illness,

as we begin to decay into a mediated medicated mental illness.

Do you even remember,
what you did on your phone yesterday,
do you even remember,
what you did with your emotions yesterday,
do you even remember,
when the last time was you felt real emotions,
do you even remember,
the last time you did anything to help the world?

What is there left to believe in when nothing feels right?

Feels like,
we are losing touch with everything that makes us human,
emotions experienced in artistic expressions are leaving,
we have no attention span & cyborg robots do most thinking,

as we steadily slip into an artificial abyss remember this,

I Love You,

& it scares you when I tell you,
like all real emotions scare you,
& then I tell you I want to take that phone you hold,
& throw it into the ocean,
& you finally look up from your phone after all this time,
stare me in the eyes glare & say, “How dare you!”,
like you’re defending your phone,
as if it’s a part of your very existence you were born with,
like you’d hate a fellow animated human,
for destroying an inanimate object, that’s the Devil’s trick,
because when we’ve lost all emotions only hatred lingers,
desperate I’ll take hatred over nothing if that’s all that’s left,

& I’m the biggest hypocrite of all,
because I say all this about technology,
but here I am writing these words on this laptop,
& offering advice but not offering apologies,

maybe I’ll really realize someday,
when someone shakes me & wakes me from my digital daze,
either that or when I’m all alone about to go home in the sky,
on that death bed quoting the last words of Steve Jobs,

“Stop pursuing wealth, it can only make a person into a twisted being, just like me…”,

Wow.

Can you hear me now?

No you probably still don’t hear me,
because you’re likely on your phone reading this right now,

your hands glued to the latest PDA device,
hands glued along with your eyes,
seems you cling to your PDA  for dear life,
like it’s as important as a TAH, what’s a TAH look it up…

∆ LaLux ∆

poem #16 from THHT3: The Hollywood Hills Trilogy 3
available worldwide here: www.amazon.com/dp/B07XJRBSKD
Aaron LaLux Aug 2016
Screen Crack

Jesus,
what the fck,
wait,
Jesus has nothing to do with this,

your hands glued to the,
latest PDA advice,
seems like you cling to your PDA,
like it’s as important as a TAH,

that’s a Total Artificial Heart,
you are the “art” in artificial,
since when did Personal Displays of Affection,
get replaced with Personal Digital Assistant,

would rather ******* in silence,
than talk to someone that could potentially like you,
in the narcissistic network of a sociopathic society,
on thing is certain this cycle of denial is ******,


what the fck,
totally stuck,
mind fckt and ******,
into that little cancer causing PDA that you hold in your hot little hand,

Steve Jobs got cancer,
you think that’s a coincidence,
people that work with electronic devices their whole live’s,
get sick and this is not an isolated incident,

just look at at Stevie Jobs no Wonder he got sick,
died in his mid 50’s alone and in bed thin as a stick,
all those billions couldn’t save him,
so what makes you think you’ll survive,
what makes you think I care if you live,
when it doesn’t seem like you care if I die,

you think you’re saving time on that portable electronic device,
but really you’re not saving time you’re just wasting your life,
because no one ever regrets not spending more time playing video games,
it’s not spending more time with those they love that they regret when they die,

and I’m going to do you a favor and save you the trouble,
of spending your whole life chasing money on a tiny screen,
I’m going to quote Steve Jobs’s last words here,
so that you can start making changes right now before it’s too late…

“I have come to the pinnacle of success in business.
In the eyes of others, my life has been the symbol of success.
However, apart from work, I have little joy. Finally, my wealth is simply a fact to which I am accustomed.
At this time, lying on the hospital bed and remembering all my life, I realize that all the accolades and riches of which I was once so proud, have become insignificant with my imminent death.
In the dark, when I look at green lights, of the equipment for artificial respiration and feel the buzz of their mechanical sounds, I can feel the breath of my approaching death looming over me.
Only now do I understand that once you accumulate enough money for the rest of your life, you have to pursue objectives that are not related to wealth.
It should be something more important:
For example, stories of love, art, dreams of my childhood.
No, stop pursuing wealth, it can only make a person into a twisted being, just like me.”…

See,
there you go,
don’t say I didn’t tell you so,
still you hear the final words of a billionaire and you say “Who cares?”,

and that is actually a serious question,
who cares?

Too busy trying to find fake treasure on Pokemon Go or read the latest news,
it seems all those apples and androids have made you apathetic,
in the Garden of Electronic Eden the internet has replaced intense ***,
no open markets on weekdays just items on eBay our  sympathy is synthetic,

so we don’t feel the vibration of our brothers we just feel the vibration of our phones,

see the more connected we get to the virtual world the less connected we get to the actual world,

and I’m having a melt down witnessing everyone on their cell phones,
and I want to find a reason to believe in but I feel we’re all lost without a home,

maybe I need Jesus,
what the fck,
wait,
Jesus has nothing to do with this,

new addiction to screens phones are the new crack,
cracked screens from dropping your phone gives you a minor heart attack,
oh how attractive cancer seems when it’s attractively wrapped,
in the form of an impersonal personalized phone case crass is the new black,

what the fck,
totally stuck,
mind fckt and ******,
into that little cancer causing PDA that you hold in your hot little hand,

look up look up!

You are alive in a body on this beautiful land.

There’s a whole world out there,
please find someone to get to know and love,
because there’s probably someone right next to you right now,
that’s willing to give you their all you just have to set the phone down and look up!

If you’d only just look up!

But,
you’re don’t see them because you’re too busy playing Pokemon Go,

I know,
we’re part of a 1st World society,
and we play our part by being passively compliant,
in order to be an accessory to our country’s atrocities,

as we get dressed up with the latest techno accessories,

I know,
you don’t want to think about it too much,
because then you might feel guilty,
so you keep your head down like you’re mourning,

you stay on your phone,
because it’s easier to simply not feel,
won’t even make eye contact,
because you’ve been conditioned to fear anything that’s actually real,

insecure and scared of the unknown,
even though it’s the things that we’re most comfortable that usually **** us,
cars cigarettes alcohol cell phones,
I’m telling you addiction to technology is a serious illness,

as we all begin to decay into a mediated mental illness….

Do you even remember what you did on your phone yesterday,
do you even remember what the last time you felt real emotions,
do you even remember the last time you did anything to help the world,
what is there left to believe in when nothing feels right?

Feels like,
we are losing touch with everything that makes us human,
emotions experienced in artistic expressions are leaving,
we have no attention span and cyborg robots do the thinking,

as we steadily slip into an android abyss please remember this,

I Love You,

and that scares you when I tell you like all real emotions scare you,
and then I tell you I want to take that phone you hold and throw it into the ocean,
and you finally look up from your phone stare me in the eyes and say, “I dare you.”,

like you’re defending your phone as if it’s a part of you,
like you’d hate a fellow human for destroying an inanimate object,
because when we’ve lost all emotions only hatred will be lingering,
but I’ll take hatred if that’s all that’s left,

Jesus,
what the fck,
wait, ∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆
Jesus has nothing to do with this,

and I’m the biggest hypocrite,
because I say all this about technology,
but I’m writing these words here on this laptop,
and offering no apologies,

maybe I’ll really realize,
when I’m about to be gone,
alone on that death bed with my millions,
quoting the last words of Mr. Steve Jobs,

“Stop pursuing wealth, it can only make a person into a twisted being, just like me…”
“Oh wow. Oh wow. Oh wow…”,

can you here me now?

No you probably still don’t hear me,
because you’re likely on your phone even right now…

∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆
Your reality check is in the mail...
Amanda Kay Burke Sep 2023
They think we are gross
"Why don't you two get a room?"
I love PDA
What can I say?
I'm not ashamed
Drifter Feb 2015
PDA
I noticed how freaked out they got
when that couple kissed in sight
or smiled just a little too wide
into each others’ adoring eyes
and it felt like compressed air
too many soggy molecules
packed into fleeting cold stares
because god forbid you be happy
and *you don’t get to have love
when I can barely sleep at night
because my silly ******* job
keeps me from what I really want
and I am always the depressed wolf
who gave up on finding meaning
from this **** storm we call life
so please, “get a ******* room”
you stupid storybook happy people
I don’t want you to remind me
that I used to want to care
or that my thoughts used to have
resemblance of a child’s wish list
just get out of our deteriorating lives
don’t ******* come here again
with your stupid storybook ****.
Just because you're not happy, doesn't mean others don't get to be. Also, why are you calling the most natural thing gross? What.
neth jones Mar 2021
PDA
fingers surveying
prints scuttle
             and
                  rill
; surface tips over dermis
shopping for a grip
a private tuck
or a filled skin to cup
warm and flushed bodies
digits cramming        
                   under bodied clothings
with senses entire    
               in this distraction
heed is ceded
of public location
and the approach of the authorities
with toys                  
uniform
                       and ammunition
Rhea Sheilah Oct 2020
PDA
Hold me in public
As much as you do in bed.
I survive on PDA
Hold my hand. Kiss my forehead. Give me random hugs and if you are strong enough [Coz I am a +size :) ]carry me. In other words, mark your territory.
Carrie Ross Dec 2011
PDA
There was an automobile accident
that painted the town red
with a splash of gray.
No need to linger,
really,
move along
there’s nothing to see here
that you haven’t seen before
M Feb 2015
pda
why do we censor love more strongly
than we censor violence?
Q Nov 2015
I used to mock couples for their PDA
I used to sneer as they indulged in affectionate displays.
Being self-sufficient was all I used to enjoy
And then, one day, along came this boy...

Just like that, I was completely enthralled
Made a hypocrite by my own free-fall.
Suddenly the world was primary and pastel
Like every year I'd lived was drab gray scale.

I was never the one to compliment a beautiful day
Yet somehow the days are gorgeous now, sunshine or rain.
I'm not the kind who bothers with smiles for smiling's sake
But when I'm talking to him I'm smiling till my cheeks ache.

I used to glare at all that PDA
That one couple I just had to shoo away.
They all still get the same treatment
Though now it's because **** long distance.

I'm jittery as though my blood is made of caffeine
I'm grinning like I just swallowed a ******* sun beam
I'm excited as though I just won the lottery
Because this lovely boy has made a ******* fairy-tale of me.
yes, you. i felt like writing something and guess who happened to be on my mind?
Life's a Beach Jun 2014
She is his
You can see it just from a glance
It can't be chance
that he sits so rigid
Their PDA almost frigid
in it's clockwork execution
we kiss now, here, then, when we should
Their public nature behind a hood
of do's and don'ts,
should, could so would,
but never must
never need.
I don't feel she's ever breathed
just for you, she
feels too insular.
Too

Egocentric

His posture is pride,
A look; a challenge
A touch: assurance
This one is mine
Look, don't touch
Envy me
But find your own
In his arms his serpent glows
and coils around his throat
dote
Their words are whispers of
solidarity
A secret society
who's key they ate,
their touches tempt fate.

You're going to hurt him

But for now she coils, and
boils his blood
and throws his rudder out of
control.
And he sits, a deadbolted frame,
clinging to a paper Mona Lisa
which could flap away
or, at any moment,
bore and
stray

But for now,
they're proud and
loud with public love.
And crapping doves
Claudia Ramirez Apr 2013
I see a couple holding hands
As I try to not think about you
…they remind so much of us.
He starts to kiss her neck
I remember how bad our PDA was
…almost hooking up in the bus
Now I spend my nights
Wishing I could talk to you
And my days at work
I try not thinking about you
However, that is not enough.
Its 5:51 pm and I am at work
Writing pointless poems for you
..Even though I know…
You will never again read my poetry
(8:20 P.M.)
I'm out my back door
and into the cities
I've got my hat, phone, wallet,
lighter and keys.
It's a short little walk,
the gas stations not far.
I see where they parked,
I enter the car.

(8:30 P.M.)
Kelsey grabs my hand
and looks me in the eye,
she ignores the centipedes
she sees,
or at least she tries,
she then calmly explains
she's out-of-bodied
the entire car ride
and how she's been
counting the stars
even though its not quite night.
She says we're swimming
through the mountains
and climbing up the seas
but from where I'm sitting
we're still in the back seat.
I ask, "Hey, what's she on?"
"I think LSD.
But don't worry, it's cool,
she's dating the guy
throwing this thing."

(8:40 P.M.)
It's a twenty minute ride,
crammed into the Taurus,
but Ashley's in the front,
getting shots poured out for us.
"To a good night!"
We laugh and proclaim,
we down the first drinks
and start the pre-game.
Hennepin then Franklin
then Grand avenue.
We've already got a buzz
now were smokin buds, too.

(9:05 P.M.)
We pull up
just as the suns going down
and as the moon peeks her face
out from under the clouds.
There's already some kid
face down in the grass
some brilliant soul's pulled his pants down
and sharpied his ***.
I guess he shouldn't have passed out
with his shoes still on;
hopefully nobody patrolling
sees him lying in the lawn.

(9:06 P.M.)
The second thing we notice
are the angels on the porch
They've already bent their halos
and lost their wings, of course.
The beautiful brunette
with half her head shaved
turns to welcome us
with a big friendly wave.
With a smile on her face she says,
"Hi! I'm Mel!
Welcome to our party;
welcome to Hell!"
"Where should we put our drinks?"
"Just leave em in your car!
We've got three kegs
and our very own bar!"
We're escorted inside,
in front of at least a hundred people,
and brought to the roof
with a sign that reads Steeple.

(9:20 P.M.)
Jon's tipping a bottle,
just waiting for Kelsey.
He asks her right away,
"Babe, will you marry me?"
She's too far gone
to know what to say,
so he wraps her in a hug
that makes everything okay.
It's clearly a cute joke,
just some little spiel,
but Kels is so high
she thinks that it's real.

(10:30 P.M.)
We all decide its best
if we leave those newly wed
because, to be frank,
there was a lot of PDA going on in their bed.
Mel starts to lead us
down the winding stairs,
by now the broken halo
escaped from her hair.
She said seeing Kels and Jon
made her feel lonely
so she needs another drink
and wants to get to know me.

(11:45 P.M.)
As it turns out
she's a good partner for pong;
but now she wants to sneak off,
to go rip up her ****.
So we take a trip down the hall
and slide through her door.
let me preface this part:
I never expect to score.

(11:50 P.M.)
She gives the lighter a spark.

(11:53 P.M.)
We're making out in the dark.

(12:15 A.M.)
The silence is broken,
we hear someone scream.
We look at each other,
"What the Hell could that mean?"

(12:20 A.M.)
We're scared, so we joke
about what it could be.
The most likely reason?
Something scared the heavens out of Kelsey.
We say she's probably worried
about alien transplants
and the whole entire time
I'm not wearing my pants.

(12:21 A.M.)
"The cops are here!"
I jumped and ran from her bed.
I don't think I'll see those red skinny jeans
ever again.
I manage a quick goodbye
and then I'm into the Hall.
I find my friend Ashley
and our sober cab Paul.
"Kelsey's with the cops
and Tom left with Nancy,
our cars down the road,
lets head to the street."

(12:25 A.M.)
As we sneak out the back
we hear the cops speak:
"The first kid we found
had **** drawn on his **** cheeks."

(1:05 A.M.)
After a while
the three of us arrive,
back to my place,
though we started with five.
The drive back was extended,
even if Paul was driving well,
because in my drunken stupor
I made him stop at Taco Bell.
We head through the porch,
My roommate's still up.
He asks if we wanna drink
and then goes to grab cups.

(1:50 P.M.)
After a few rounds of Kings
Paul's on the couch, fast asleep,
and James went downstairs,
It's just me and Ashley.

(2:00 A.M.)
We turn a movie on
and we sit in my bed.
We discuss all the things
going through both of our heads.
For three straight hours
she flirted up some guy
'til his girlfriend walked in
and started to cry.
She called Ashley a *****
who swore she didn't know
while dude stared at the ground
and said, "Sorry, bro."
Ashley had enough,
she hates being called a guy,
so she winded one up
and kissed her fist to his eye.

(3:00 A.M.)
We didn't watch the movie,
we just talked some more,
until we fell asleep
keeping one another warm.
Two old friends,
two trips in different Hells
and the only thing to do afterwords
was to laugh at ourselves.
Two old friends,
who's hunt for love was a blunder,
who consoled their loneliness
by wrapping up in each other.
The times aren't meant to be read with the poem, just to give it more style, aesthetically.
Yasha Harkness Dec 2015
Talk to me about space
About the incredible cosmos
About the way we were all
Made of stardust, talk to me
About the way your hair bleeds colour
When you bathe, about your nightmares
After an evening with your parents, talk to me
About the girls you've kissed and the girls you've wanted to kiss,
Tell me about all the things that bind your soul
To this dusty rock we call home,
For that is where your truth lies.
Tell me what you feel about couples having PDA
On the subway, if you feel jealous or indifferent, talk to me
About the liminal spaces, the coffee shops, cross roads, train stations
Where we have a 1 in a billion chance of meeting our soulmates,
Tell me about the pain you felt when your brother died,
The nights you couldn't sleep because of all the tears
That would never fall, because your heart had gone numb.
Talk to me about you. No, not you, You.
The girl with the cosmos in her body. The you I fell in love with, after all we were made of adjacent stardust.
Talk to me.
communication communication communication :)
CM Rice Dec 2013
There is no ****** in relationships these days!
He proclaimed, swinging amble waist in my direction,
Just them public displays of affection Or PDA’s:
To those afflicted with ‘abbreviationithis’ (ABT) for short,
We are in the custody of a soulless generation,
Bathed in apathy, shorthand speaking, glass-tapping,
Pampered glad-hands glad-handing, over-perfumed,
Statements of exaggerations - investigated in toilets,
On lifeless screens, no skill of conversation required.
Larry continued, unabated by the stares an’ giggles.

****** is what counts; it makes up a sizeable portion,
Of love at first sight, not online but in person,
An animal magnetism takes hold an’ before you know..
You’ve ****** yourself and your attraction in the flesh,
The art of being undressed yet still dressed is an art,
Too easy are these poorly constructed witless lines,
Weak almost polite hugs, clearly awkward air-kisses,
Perceived as the innocent dance of modern romance.
How is anyone to know anyone lusts after them?
How is someone to know if not for someone’s ******?

I feared that I had stumbled upon an early night,
I’d been collared by this mongrel of a forgettable time,
His rigorous attention to showing this ******,
Serenading my embarrassment was now a highlight,
His ramblings long ignored, possibly insightful,
Cried out hilariously for proof of his master plan,
So for the devilment – I asked for a demonstration,
To appease my boredom of debating with this fool,
Larry motioned again; his eyes lit as much as his mind,
To a woman stood waiting, her desire for the taking.

I must warn you, ****** is not for the faint-at-heart,
No use shoving hips of wanting into a total stranger,
Catch the eyes first - leave some distance and discretion,
Smile and move silently – prepare to tell a story,
As with any manoeuvre, there must be some grace,
Double-check your manners an’ prepare for a feast,
Straighten your ready stance to deliver the clincher,
Smile again brightly with no hint of danger,  
An’ in a movement pincer-like yet working alone,
On a wing with no prayers – I’ll show you, my friend.

An’ so he did, sweeping toward this unsuspecting patron,
Larry had managed to scare, scatter and surprise,
This woman and many others, the beholder unwelcome,
The moral of this story on hold, he had slipped a hip,
Into her personal space, and nonchalantly she turned away,
He continued with his thrusting, his way of affecting,
The conversation – dead now for shock and unsettling awe,
She had strangled her anger and suspended her belief,
That a man would be so crass as to ****** her in public,
Accosted by her coldness, he returned to proclaim an ending.

I never said that ****** worked on the charmless,
The per-occupied, the rude, the shy or the frail,
I trust my ****** with one hand free for everything,
My other hand grasped on this lover’s Holy Grail.

It does take all walks of life, some stumbling some not,
To lust, to wonder for love, now left forever pursued,
So a question is forever lost – to ****** or not to ******?  
Deluded Larry had diluted - still I’d been left, amused.
…. Few years back, a man known only as ***** Larry, drunk on someone else’s memories, had told me about the ‘good aul days’ and the way of showing a desire to be with someone was to ****** yourself. I had agreed although as he had spoke that night - I had assumed his flagrant misuse of alcohol and his ‘Irosh’ accent had caused him to mispronounce the word trust.  I was proved wrong after a few more light ales, as Larry prepared to ****** his sweaty, unsteady frame into my side. I had been left me in no doubt – he indeed had meant the word ****** and the action of thrusting. He concluded that it was what most relationships lacked these days…
Emily Rene Jun 2015
I cannot stand to be
continuously touched
It makes me anxious
& sick to my stomach
He was the one who
understood my struggle
He accepted it &
respected my boundaries

Why couldn't you?

I'm not asking much
when I'd rather sleep alone
It is not because I'm
not interested, but because
it makes me physically ill
You're touch is comforting,
don't get me wrong,
but cuddling gives me anxiety

When we're in public
& you kiss me,
I want to get in a ball
& roll away from the scene
He understood this
& would hold my hand
He accepted that PDA
made me uncomfortable

Why couldn't you?

When you kiss me in front
of all of our friends
& sometimes strangers,
I get nervous & shakey
It's not their business
& they don't need to see
cause PDA gives me anxiety

When I see a door ****,
I refuse to touch it
I will use any excuse to
have someone open the door
or open it myself with no contact
He understood this &
would never let a door close
He accepted it & carried
around GermX at all times

Why couldn't you?

I'm not asking much of you
to open a door for me
You are not my slave,
it's just called kindness,
cause germs give me anxiety

I lose people I love
because of my anxiety
I try to make up for it
in little things I do,
but usually it's not enough
But if I'm uncomfortable
& seriously unhappy,
what's the loss?
I'll find another him
that accepts me for me

You just couldn't
haysia Aug 2014
Picture here. Picture there.
Laughing out loud.
Making fun of each other.
Talking in weird accents.
Saying "hi" to people you don't even know.
Dancing in a store.
Singing loudly and horribly.
Or mainly the things that's normally embarrassing.

Those are the things we usually do.
Making those things with them is not a wasted time.
That's what you call PDA
Public Display of Abnormality

Because of my friends,
I didn't learned to smile whenever things go wrong
But I learned how to stand again and again.
I can't be me without them.
They are a piece of me.

**Having only one friend doesn't matter at all
As long as the friendship is true.
This is for my friends :)
A poem about gravity
I know he’s going to break my heart
I tell everybody that I know that it’ll come
I tell them, to tell myself
Maybe I’ll remember
Maybe he’ll run
Maybe I’ll run
Maybe just maybe, there’s a future but I’m afraid to feel that way.
Because
maybe I feel too hard,
maybe I feel too much, maybe I haven’t felt this way in a long time,
maybe that’s why I’m terrified.
I know it’s going to hurt, he’s already hurt me.

My walls are down, I know his are not.
I wish I could keep mine up,
but oh boy, it’s too late.
No relationship is ever certain
No love is ever promised
No life isn’t confusing as hell.
Always “love on me”
Never “I love you”
Hail, rain, warm nights, street lights, sunrise bedroom kisses, warmth, cold
- sometimes so cold, and Pleasure, and so vague,
social, no PDA, but then he grabs my hand and we walk together.

W T F is this, why do I want it so badly when I know it’s only gonna hurt me.
Why did I allow my heart to be open enough to be broken?
I’m still trying to put my own pieces back together, I didn’t and don’t need this.
But it’s truly everything I want.

Him, his black hole of a bed, those windows, those eyes that are **** galaxies.
They show so much, I can read them but not all of them,
sometimes they shift to a far off world that I have not been invited to.
But I want to know what’s going on behind those gorgeous galactic windows to a planet and soul that I will probably never get to visit.

Why, when I know, this is going to crush me.
Tear me apart in ways I know are coming,
Why do I come back and leave my heart on the floor, begging for more.
Why can’t I stop falling in love with a dark matter in the Universe?
Why does it already hurt but hasn’t even happened yet?
I am the light, orbiting the black hole,
Knowing full well I’m being ****** in,
And to my own detriment,

I circle it and am bracing for the inevitable-
But I’m also already ****** into his gravity.
…for or about J
Mike Essig Feb 2016
Well now that's done: and I'm glad it's over.*

Concrete instances of emptiness.
Blinds not drawn. Flowers do not arrive.
Bed made tight; no stilettos. Never sticky.
Doves alone coo. Pet names only for pets.
No need to shave. Last night's wine. One glass.
Coffee becomes ******. Condo not condoms.
Hands and knees only to fix sink. No position.
No lipstick stains the staff. Lingerie a catalog.
Flag always at half mast. Sleep soft, not deep.
A **** is a chicken; a ***** is a cat.
Fingers seeking ****** find nothing.
Blowing your nose becomes PDA.
Ghostly hands caress vanished thighs.
All embraces are distant. Hugging your sister.
Mysteries of faded flesh; sound after sigh
Not a trace of perfume or personality.
The orgasmically charged what isn't.
What is missing prevails. What was is missing.

  ~mce
josh Dec 2011
Red hair...
Like a bright sunny glair...
You get drunk when we kiss...
I can't get enough of this...
I know there are plenty of girls in the world...
You must think I am absurd...
A relationship based on trust...
All I had to go off of was your word...
But that don't mean ****...
Because you legitimately gave up and quit...
You couldn't be leaving me for another guy...
Girl i'm just too fly...
But you don't like PDA...
And our so called relationship is TBA...
Could have just stayed with me, and i'd be okay...
But as fast as you came...
I will replace you...
You can't break a heard of stone...
Been down this road too many times...
I always end up alone...
But on top is where I remain...
I can't say I loved you...
But my feelings I cannot hide or contain...
You say you're sorry...
And we will still be friends...
Better a week than a year...
But i'll be damed if I agree...
Like a magician, I'm about to disappear...
Have no fear though...
You got your wish...
11:11 is the time...
Gold mother-******* fish...
Vivian Feb 2014
another night with you consumed in my thoughts

I never really thought I could feel this way
and I'm somehow unashamed
of my want of you
of my craving

to think,
at home,
there's the sweetest of any man-
waiting for me?
I'm boggled
blown away

I want to grasp your hair
soft, pleasant, lovely
I want your hands on me
strong, skilled, hungrily

you just know how to woo me-
I'm getting breathless right now,
writing this
just thinking about your leg touching mine
and then my hand on your cheek
then my lips on your lips
and my pelvis on your thigh

oh god you make me
want to scream

your sly
sweet
eyes look me over
pleasantly
without greed
and I know
you want me
as much as I
want you

I hate PDA,
but I would kiss you anywhere
GirlScout Jul 2020
There’s a knot in my throat,
as I frown
These shakes could have another meaning.
My jaw clenches as I force myself
To reassemble dialogues in my head.
Self pity is despicable,
But not as threatening as the self doubt
That wraps around my clouded memory
And squeezes my chest, in shame.
Disgust at uninhibited reactions
Expressions of false confidence.
Although I wish for nothing more than
To retract, erase, repatch
Gauged open wounds;
I need nothing more than
those I fear I've hurt
To heal my shame.
Alyssa De Marzo Feb 2017
Yes. Valentine's Day is just like any other day
No. it does not make it any less special
I will not look at the couples and curse their PDA
I will see the chocolate and flowers and smile
I will not roll my eyes at the teddy bears for sale sign
I may even third wheel for a while

Today is meant to recognize happiness in pairs
Not to degrade national singles because who really cares?

I don't need a man to keep me busy- I mean happy
I don't need chocolates to feel loved
It's beautiful to have someone beside you
But my best friend is already enough
when you see me without my flowers
I plan on picking my own
Don't judge my date with Netflix
Because if you love yourself enough
You'll almost never feel alone
Bintun Nahl 1453 Mar 2015
cinta awalny bercnda, akhrnya serius,maknanya sangat dalam karena kemuliaanya dari yang engkau kira, sehingga engkau tidak akan tahu hakikatnya kecuali memahami maknanya, dan bukan sesuatu yg dilarang oleh agama, dilarang oleh syari'at, asalkan hati mash pda keluasaan allah
Trey Evans Feb 2015
Nobody wants to be alone
Me included
I hate seeing couples in public
I despise their constant PDA
The kissing.. the hugging.. the love
**** all of you
I don’t need to see that
Yet these feelings are only because of jealousy
The wanting to be that person
The desire to be loved
Here I am, on the other hand
Perched on a park bench
Watching people go by
Holding hands..
Sharing laughs..
Feels as if God is using them to smite me
To punish me for no reason
To chastise me for the things I’ve done
Maybe he’s right, for once..
Perhaps I should go home
But home isn’t the same anymore..
I’m going to the same thing every night
A meal, a shower, tv..
Then I say a prayer and get into bed
The bed that was once occupied by two
written 1/11/15
Jessica M Jan 2014
I've always hated PDA

but when I see you I can't help but to
reach out and scratch
your beard because its a
really basic human pleasure,

  to touch something and know
that it is yours-

especially when that something
is a someone
and that someone
thinks and feels and tells stupid jokes
and laughs at his own stupid jokes
and is better than me at the
    crossword puzzles we can only finish
  on mondays and tuesdays

I measure the passing of time
in crossword puzzles and the number of nights
until I can fall asleep with at least
65% of my body touching yours because
    I miss you
       any other time

and
all of the sudden
I'm really scared of you dying
Aliah Brimhall May 2019
This is a first
The first time someone has loved me more than I love them
The first time where i have someone close by to hold me tight
The first time I held hands in the hallway
The first time I've worried about PDA
But you want another first
And well


It'll never last
Even I am interpreting this two ways, a humorous way and a serious way. Not sure which one I prefer.
Lucy Marie Oct 2014
if home is where the heart is
then my home is that run-down movie theater
where we met up again-
the first time in almost a year that I saw your serpentine grin
and heard your heavy laugh;
the first time in almost a year that I felt your more-than-affable embrace.
the first time I ever felt your fragile lips.
I remember how you looked at me,
searched my eyes for a hint of emotion.
I remember how my face turned red,
PDA has never been my kind of thing.
I don’t like to be the center of anyone’s attention
and public places make me sick.
You could say my head’s a little broken
but that’s just the norm for me.
if home is where the heart is
I must be paying emotional rent
because some days, when I’m hungry for misery
I drive past that run-down movie theater
and drown in my memories
Kristen Jul 2015
you
You deserve reeses cups in the morning
and baseball adventure evenings.
You deserve light hearted conversations
and PDA.
Everyday.
You deserve honesty in every way,
and to be loved passionately.
You deserve to be reminded
how handsome and incredible you are.

Im sorry it took so long for me to see that.
Autumn Jan 2015
:))
We tried to write creatively
But ended up laughing histerically
We chucked bowling ***** as fast as rockets
But later ended up with quail in our pockets

We trudged (cause we do that)
Tiki torches in hand,
Snowshoeing through snow
Which is the opposite of sand

We took a coffee break, and gave our teacher a phone
A couple days later we visited Dolores in the home
Dolores lost her memory, but her legacy remains
Phoenix road, bethal church, will walk through memory lane

We hopped on roofs, just to pass the time
We jammed to a band funk, and a bit of crime
We danced on empty balconies, which was pretty neat
Luckily we had dancing shoes strapped onto our feet

We sentenced a girl to 12 hours of service
Watching her testimony made me nervous
We hiked ol vanralte after the intensity
I’ll never be a lawyer, there’s too much density. (yeah I have no idea)

Tulip time finally showed, bringing us lemonade
I watched you play trombone in the parade.
Slacklining in kollen park is always a highlight
Railroad tracks and corndogs also made my day bright.

We spent some nights on beaches, feeling so free
Finally, we kissed under a willow tree.

We made a card for our favorite teacher
We talked smack about jakeke
We madeout in rental houses
on tiny, old,  living room couches
(help)

We climbed never ending stayercases
We read the bible under a sunset
We walked through pirates cove
We crowd surfed to metal concerts

We kissed after mountain biking
Yeah mountain biking, no big deal
We met a man named Russ
We forgot his name for a while, but it came to me during a meal (lies)

We decorated jakes car
Jake come back we're your friends
Jake wy are you in Wyoming
Come back to jakeshouse

We rolled the streets on purple walkers
What more is there to life
Not much, except for JAKESHOUSE
But we weren’t allowed in there most of the time

We let go a Chinese lantern
Aftering becoming emotionally attached
The rest of the night is forgettable,
But also memorable, in it’s own way

We made fires on the tops of very north points
We climbed mountains
jumped off cliffs
built fires

We cuddled on nasty couches
embraced the PDA
We played pool against weird black guys
got a freaking good deal at subway
AAY

We saw a scout become an eagle
And a 12 year old in the basement

We made a difference one morning,
Then we napped til two, it was nice
We almost went to a haunted bog walk
But chose not to. Twice.

We drove on the muthafuckin sidewalk,
Right into some mud,
But tyler came to the rescue and to talk
And pulled us out with a thud

We chatted in halls,
And he was late to class.
Everyday in ol chem,
tardy Tim with no pass.

We watched monsters incorporated
In a questionable basement
a 2319 is all you need
for anything ever

We played boggle in a fish bowl
not a literal fishbowl and we didn't eat soup
that was the name of a coffee shop
where you ate froot loops
old poem, finally making it public
Alec Feb 2018
Soft fingers twirl and intertwine
Yelled at for “PDA”
Laughing it off, happy inside.
Saying bye just to see each other at the end of the day.

Promises of the future
Maybe forever together
Holding hands
Making silly plans

Going to school dances
Smiling together, laughing.
Wanting it to stay the same
Till the end of your days.

.....

Thought you were safe
Nothing could hurt you in this place
Head over heels for one another
A flame that burned too bright to be smothered.

Making faces across the classroom
Texting back and forth, messages zoom.
Wanting to kiss and hug
And send all your love.

Focused only on them
They’re your shining gem.
Thoughts are suddenly interrupted
You can’t seem to focus on what the intercom just said.

Hearing bangs and alarms
Trying to grab ahold of their arm
You can’t lose them no matter what
This uncomfortable feeling in your gut

Hearing but not believing
It’s not real, what you’re seeing.
Your high school sweetheart
Heart pulling apart

All those plans that stood for forever
Now discarded, stand for never.
Can’t see them after this class or the next
No more loving texts

.....

Screaming and blubbering
Can’t think straight for anything.
All you know is they won’t move
Last breaths used holding you.

Always told your love wouldn’t last
Didn’t think it’d be over this fast.
Weeks spent wondering
Would it have been forever if not for this one thing?

Would this even have occurred,
If gun control laws were ensured and enforced?
I personally have never been through a school shooting, but hearing the news of the recent tradegy got me to thinking about all the couples who had to go through that, with the thought I’d never seeing each other again. I apoligize if this poem has offended anybody i know this is a very sensitive topic.
Lover of Words Nov 2012
We get it ok,
You're "in love"
Whatever that means,
Flamboyantly displaying PDA across my Facebook newsfeed,
Great,
For you,
But seriously,
Give me a break,
For I got no arm to hold, no kiss to have, no compliments to receive,
Or a "Baby I miss you,"
Yeah that's not for me,
I watch it everyday and wonder why I'm not this way,
Probably because the rhythms in my heart are not as dysfunctional,
I can get on without a "I love you"
For that's like ropes or more like chains on my ankles,
But I don't mind waiting…
Just tired of watching of every so called friend fall to love,
When I'm resistant to all it's evils,
Maybe because I know how evil it can really be,
How attachment strikes the heart and turns a person into one neurotic zombie,
Barely even living,
I say life alone is more worth preserving,
And heartbreak is not worth having,
I feel more easy to breath with just me
Jay Mar 2014
Today my boyfriend said he loves me
My mother always told me not to say it back if it was something I didn't mean
My father always told boys only say that to get into your jeans
Taylor Swift said a boy would make me feel this way at age 15
I keep thinking about how my life should be
I didn't even want to be with someone until like age 23
But then he came along and showed me a whole new universe I had never seen
He makes me laugh and cry and scream
And I can't help but wonder what three simple words could mean
There is so much I've been told and I don't know what to believe
Three words don't mean anything
I asked him if they did and he said what do they mean to me
I said I didn't know a thing
But if I think about it, I guess it's eggs in the morning when you're hungover from the previous evening
It's being miles away and still not cheating
It's holding hands and PDA and kissing
It's yelling and tears and fighting
It's laughing and it's crying
It's climbing the ladder together, even if there are a ton of steps missing
Maybe it's just listening
Maybe it's everything
Maybe they don't mean anything
Today my boyfriend told me he loves me
I don't love him back
I said I love you too, and it's something I didn't mean
It's not that he isn't good enough..
It's just, the word love isn't big enough to express my feelings
I am enchanted
I am speechless
I am all in, head over heels
Falling down a hill
I am taken back
I am double taking
I am walking on clouds
Words are too small
Actions are too small
The universe is too small
I am too small to be loved.

Today my boyfriend said he is in love with me
I said it back, but it wasn't true.
Butch Decatoria Dec 2015
Oh, The Bronx in the rain:
Slick city stones'         somber gloom

Oh late afternoon
so overcast with blues,
     Navy : leaves in tinsil sheen,
     Midnight : music and
Sapphires 

Where jazz becomes a dancing shadow
beneath light post misty
gold.

...

Outside the bricks are just bricks
but down there
lo lovers' tight embrace
in the fallow light showers
catching all eyes keen
to their PDA
(Public displays of affection)
as well as mine wide
Attention
Peliculas and tall stories
From a brown stone perch
while traffic whirls
           sleep now hurries
the city is slow as thunder rolls

loud
as blacktop oil slick roads
heavy as gutter water to
asphalt bones
This towns historic

Time stands still

In lovers hallmark corners shack
All wet in the gills,
fish kisses taught kids
how honey smacks
now that the audience is frozen
With anticipation,
binocular eyes
                          snapshot a Banksy / Monet
meadows of
raindrop brush strokes
chaos maelstrom
Wet dreams rivulet

All the while I am
Dry inside
Dying here!
At a pause / intently / intensely
watching
               neighbors in hooded moods.

This reminds me
how it must of felt / now
in this commotion
by mere emotions
so reminiscent

of the weeping and pain

wordless script
scene not heard
inside I'm still dry and
                            dwelling...
In need or is it wish
beginning to purr?

Still, in this stone dwelling
I am dry inside
         Trying to hide not
                         looking down
on those love birds,
A misty glow
               and oh suddenly
how I drown
when the two finally kiss...

drowning
        
                      without.




EMPATHY.
Rewritten from original version, which can be found in my writerscafe.org page by the same title.

Edit 11022016
Kate Lion Sep 2014
i feel like a bird that flew right into a window
that you pointed at and laughed

i feel like the shaven-head celebrities
the crack addicts
the high, homeless hippies on the street

i feel like a person of Wal Mart
the awkward couple that shows way too much PDA in public
the punchline of a fat joke

(i see all the fingers pointed at me as--)

i struggle to bend my wings into shape again
but i've taken to writing poetry and cutting up pieces of newspaper
to fit between the ruffled feathers

i shouldn't still have brain damage from the collision i had with your pride (sixteen miles high)

but maybe i do

i tap on the glass just to make sure that i really am a fool
and to see if you'll look back
to see me redeem myself
to see me fly
a
  w
     a
       y.

(but you don't)
Rae Oct 2021
I miss you when it’s late at night and I’m tired or sleepy, and I want someone to cuddle, i want your arms wrapped around me and to crawl into bed and have your scent wrap around me and feel your warmth. I want to hug you to my chest and ask you to stay, don’t go. Stay.
I miss you whenever I see love and adoration. I miss you when I see their PDA or their laughter and I think of your smile and how even if I cause it, I can’t see it, because you’re there and I’m here. I see them smiling and laughing and holding each other and I’m sad, I’m jealous and sad and I wish you were here.
I wish that was us.
I miss you when I’m frustrated. When I’m angry and lost and near tears, when I hug my stuffed animal to my chest and wish it was you and that i could bury my face in your chest or neck and exist on a plane that is only us. Exist on a plane where when I open my arms you come, when you hold out your hand I can grab it.
I miss you when its raining, and I wish that we could watch it together. Cozy up and watch a movie, listen to the sky weep.
I miss you when I’m relaxing, when I’m sitting in my loud as hell chair and watching a show, and I want to tell you everything, complain about the protagonist and her obliviousness, rant about the misogynistic boss. I want to tell you my little thrills, lean over your shoulder and peek at your game or video, poke you with my cold toes, fall asleep on the couch to the sound of your little outrages and victories.
I miss you when I stare out at the night sky, and imagine a future where I can turn over in bed and see you there, asleep, and know that when I wake up, you won’t be gone, and this isn’t a dream.
I miss you when it’s cold outside, when I can see my breath, and I’m shivering, and you’re not here to tell me I should’ve dressed warmer, you're not here to pull the hat off your head and put it on mine, not here so I can protest and try to give it back, chase you down the sidewalk.
I miss you when I see a funny animal or a cool building or a small flower, and I have no one to turn to and say, look!, no one to share my small thrill. Maybe someday I can tell someone, I can tell a friend, but for now, I tell myself, and smile to only myself.
It hurts when you’re happy without me, it hurts when they get to see you and I don’t.
It would hurt so much more if you were struggling, if you were lonely like I.
I know you miss me. I know inside and I see outside that you miss me. My own insecurities only tell me lies, and sometimes they can be mean, and I have to stop and think how hurt I would feel if you thought that kind of thought of me. That is the evil of insecurities.

When I miss you, sometimes it’s fleeting. Sometimes I wish you were here, acknowledge you’re not, and continue my day. Sometimes I tell you I miss you. You always say it back. Sometimes I think and think on what could have been if I was closer to home, and I have some regrets, I do.
But I don’t think I want to be anywhere but here, if I had to choose.

They say long distance is hard. I think it is, and it isn’t.
It’s hard if you stop communicating, if you stop sharing little things.
It’s hard if you stop thinking of each other, exist only in your visible reality.
These are things neither of us do.

But it’s hard when I miss you, when I’m *****, when I long to touch you or listen to you laugh.
It’s hard when I feel the word clingy, when I want to be wanted, when I wish you would miss me and miss me, so that we feel the same. But I don’t want you to hurt, because when you hurt it hurts me. Is that selfish self interest? Perhaps. But it hurts to see or hear you hurt. It hurts to know you’re hurting, and I want to fix it, I want to solve. But I am here, and you are there, and it is your hurt to bear. I can’t take it away or presume to know how to fix it, if it can even be ‘fixed’.

I miss you. That’s really what I came here to say. I miss you.
I hope you miss me too.

— The End —