Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"protested" poems
the dutch colony ascended on our shores replacing traditional african education on culture with teaching slaves how to pray we saw the deterioration of black schools and state-mandated segregated curricula whites being taught better than blacks who was only destined for subservient jobs policies of apartheid birthed the bantu education and later forced us to learn languages which was not our native tongue the youth could no longer be silenced soweto uprising saw them dying for the cause we have protested throughout the decades silenced by the apartheid government simply ignored with Mandela’s release we saw liberation, freedom, democracy and a single education system, we were finally equal however the legacy of black inferior education left a deep scar which has still not healed our parents not able to give us the education they were denied now students are holding the government accountable who promised free education for a vote the movement trending as #feesmustfall anger expressed by burning premises, striking and rioting i believe in the cause but who are you really hurting? why destroy the very universities that you are fighting for?
0
Oct 27, 2016
Oct 27, 2016 at 5:17 PM UTC
#feesmustfall
Drivin’ with the kids in tow Windows down, nowhere to go Hands outside, feel wind blow On country roads, fields passin’ slow. Saw a hayrack sittin’ by a fence “Rocks for Sale – Fifty Cents” Thought I, it makes no earthly sense To demand for rocks some recompense. But the sign - unique enough to hail (I protested - but to no avail) The missus and the kids prevailed A sale you see, is still a sale! Before day and feelings I did mar Realizing for the course it’s par I turned around and stopped the car It’s what I’ve become, and whom we are . To the rack and rocks the kids did sprint I got closer, had to squint So I could read the finer print Kids might have seen, but care they din’t. Said the bigger rocks did cost a buck I knew then that I was out of luck Between a hard place and a rock I’m stuck ‘Twas bait and switch, and smelled like muck. But the kids had picked from rocks galore Put them in the trunk to store The rack was less some rocks times four And the coffee can had four bucks more! PwL 5/16/15
0
May 16, 2015
May 16, 2015 at 11:43 PM UTC
Rocks
It was supposed to be The dawn of a new age; A new set of dialogue On a more balanced stage With better lines for The actors to deliver. It was supposed to start in The sixties and last forever. We didn’t really know for sure What this Aquarius stuff was But it seemed to us to be A metaphysical enough cause, To change the way we acted And to shout down the rest; To face the demagogues Then put them to the test. We stopped wearing uniforms That said we went along With the hard-assed leaders. We put a lot of it in our songs. We called them what they were Greedy warmongering ****** We protested and picketed And promised so much more. We spoke out loudly on TV And in crowds in the streets That we were through will genocide And would not accept defeat. We cried out that our government Had assumed the role of villain And was murdering for no reason Not just men, but even children. But, we let it all die down; We let the government slide On investigating the truth And keeping the truth inside A carefully chosen batch of Criminals in public office. We let them go on making war And making money off us. We let them cheat and lie And re-write acceptable laws To support their bloodthirstiness And we gave up on our cause. Maybe all that protesting gave All our marching feet limps. Or maybe it’s because all along We were just a bunch of wimps.
0
Dec 4, 2015
Dec 4, 2015 at 9:38 PM UTC
NEW AGERS
we ate government cheese that came in a dull brown box we were too young to understand what welfare and food stamps meant, our empty bellies never protested at the salty orange blocks in front of the bodega, we saw a woman introduce a hammer to a drunk tyrant’s skull his blood pooling on the streets was too red for new eyes we watched hypodermic needles bloom on stoops cling to life on curbs the graffiti on abandoned buildings was our Louvre, our Salon de Paris sweltering streets our baseball diamonds prostitutes, black or brown or both mothered us between shifts we grew up in projects, that sheltered drab lives and senseless brutalities gunfire, sharp and immutable punctured lullabies we were small boys watching life unfold the way one stares at an accident detached and mildly curious eyeing cooly the despair and impossible hopelessness of growing up poor in Brooklyn
0
Mar 28, 2015
Mar 28, 2015 at 10:40 PM UTC
Growing Up Poor in Brooklyn
I want to love you, but you make it so hard for me, With this sadistic torment. I imagine you are angry At the way I have treated you, And that is why you subject me to agony. I was so ignorant, back then, Blaming you for my own shortcomings, I wanted you to change. I tried to turn you into something you were not, I starved you of affection, forced you to do things Even as you protested, and begged to be set free. Is this how you punish me? When will you stop? Please, talk to me, Tell me what you need. Is it too late for us to learn to love each other? There is no escape, We have to find a way. And there has been togetherness, There has been delight, and even love. Together, we have borne two children, Danced with abandon, Explored our limits alone and with others. My body, my self, Let me find a way to help you, My body, my love, Help me free us from this pain.
0
May 21, 2014
May 21, 2014 at 10:42 AM UTC
Please stop hurting me
when my hurt became audible you protested with your history I know only what I've known and you begged me to be the bigger person and so I was. And so you grabbed one end of me and I grabbed the other and we pulled until taut, until I was enormous, stretched and distorted like a lost giant or A firefighter's trampoline- my highest purpose became to break your fall and so I did and so I did and so I did
0
Jan 27, 2015
Jan 27, 2015 at 12:32 PM UTC
The Firefighter's Trampoline
the hens have raised their fowl fists, protested the pecking order, debated the Cuckoo Clucks Clan, and started a coup in the coop. they have a bird's eye view from their fort, truly an eggcelent perch to reside in while they gather resources and duck when enemies fire. joining is a nestcessary evil to end the corruption. so, my dear, please don't chicken out.
0
Oct 19, 2018
Oct 19, 2018 at 1:29 AM UTC
light as a feather
Naught but mockery. In the back of my mind, I've always recognised why Why all those nights, I fought sleep, Why all those days, Appetite didn't come. Didn't sleep again last night. And I rose from bed, reluctant as ever to return to a heart-torturing reality. The hot scalding shower, wasn't hot enough. And when it was, I closed my eyes, Calm reigning my soul. I walked the streets, Drizzle of rain splattering on my face, It was as though everything was fine, Yet everything wasn't. I felt everything wrong, But everything was right. I, I, I wanted to stand in the middle of that street, And await an incoming car. Nothing in me protested, Except for the mind, the god fearing mind. My heart was silent, eerily calm. I hailed a cab, got to school like everything was fine, But the emotions on my face probably couldn't lie. All bottled up, in a bright corner I sat, just wanting to let it all out. Yet again, The heart-torturing reality interferes. Figured, why I never was a fan.
0
Dec 18, 2014
Dec 18, 2014 at 10:04 PM UTC
Fearless
In the early hours of the morning, you asked me to marry you; I pushed it off, taking it as a joke, but you leapt up from our bed anyway, and I protested, saying there were no rings in sight, and yet, you wrapped paper, so delicately, into a ring for me. From the dim-lit room, I saw you kneel on one knee to ask me. I swore you were mocking me, but you persisted that we elope, and even then I couldn't take you at your word. Did you really love me like that? And if so, why did you leave?
0
Nov 26, 2021
Nov 26, 2021 at 5:44 PM UTC
Elope?
Protest it. Unless you employed by the government. Rules are totally different. If officers violate the laws they serving to protect us. Stand up for your rights to protest. We in America not one of that dictatorship country. Why? Do people feel athletes can't protest? They go on strike for various things not right to them. Not one stated the protesting the anthem. Not one. They protesting injustice. And rightly so. So fans are mad than many probably never saw the youth that protested in the sixties against a war. Whether you agree or don't. Always stand up for your rights. So a so-called billionaire never paid taxes and won't reveal his income tax forms using idle threats. The only one filling the role of kiss-up is the owners. Without comprehending, if there is a sporting showdown the most likely won't win. Most likely to be the losers when Coke, Pepsi, Nike, Papa John and host of others clients profits fall. A business suffers highly when there no solution solved. Most fans that go to a sporting event are a great majority of whites and be the ones crying the louder. If ever done wrong and need attention to get people on board. You protest, you stand up and stand out. A small church pastor rose to be great by taking on a segregated system. The only one mad about tearing segregation is who? The race need not be mention for a majority hardly stand up for anything. Well, unless it's the NRA. Even with violence in school from high powered weapons. There they go defending the NRA. And the weapons they protesting against isn't truly needed unless you at war. But they standing up for their rights. So players, stand up for your rights. For CBS/ESPN/ABC/NBC stands to lose too. If a majority of players stand strong against wrong.
0
Aug 11, 2018
Aug 11, 2018 at 11:45 PM UTC
Stand Up For Your Rights
Protest it. Unless you employed by the government. Rules are totally different. If officers violate the laws they serving to protect us. Stand up for your rights to protest. We in America not one of that dictatorship country. Why? Do people feel athletes can't protest? They go on strike for various things not right to them. Not one stated the protesting the anthem. Not one. They protesting injustice. And rightly so. So fans are mad than many probably never saw the youth that protested in the sixties against a war. Whether you agree or don't. Always stand up for your rights. So a so-called billionaire never paid taxes and won't reveal his income tax forms using idle threats. The only one filling the role of kiss-up is the owners. Without comprehending, if there is a sporting showdown the most likely won't win. Most likely to be the losers when Coke, Pepsi, Nike, Papa John and host of others clients profits fall. A business suffers highly when there no solution solved. Most fans that go to a sporting event are a great majority of whites and be the ones crying the louder. If ever done wrong and need attention to get people on board. You protest, you stand up and stand out. A small church pastor rose to be great by taking on a segregated system. The only one mad about tearing segregation is who? The race need not be mention for a majority hardly stand up for anything. Well, unless it's the NRA. Even with violence in school from high powered weapons. There they go defending the NRA. And the weapons they protesting against isn't truly needed unless you at war. But they standing up for their rights. So players, stand up for your rights. For CBS/ESPN/ABC/NBC stands to lose too. If a majority of players stand strong against wrong.
Continue reading...
35
"No!" - He protested Yes, he had said that she was like lightning, but he meant that she startled him with her randomness and thunder, and not that she pulsated writing a spiderweb into the nights sky; it was that she filled him with a certain nervousness... and no, that nervousness was not like an electricity. And while the argument continued it was brought up that he had also compared her to a storm. It wasn't because she climbed with a certain inexorable quality like the tides or that she was the perfect mix of calm pretense and wuthering looks. It was more because she reminded him of the rains lightly dancing on his bedroom window making him dream.
0
Mar 24, 2017
Mar 24, 2017 at 4:46 PM UTC
Writing a Spiderweb
She died a year ago, But so pathetic I wasn’t around during, Her funeral, Air would have protested against my loud dirge, There would have been series of enjambment In the stanzas of my her elegy. General Abas said she died in a ****** coup, But she was too wise to be wiped out in a coup, She was like untamed lion. Mr George gave another account, He said she died during an internal war, The war against the truth, She has been from truth, Too blind to see reality, Fast asleep to be woken up. The family doctor said she was poisoned, Poisoned with the truth, The truth that kills rather to set free. Inspector James said she was sniped From a fair perimeter. The mortuary attendant said they Heared movement, Guess she was just try to raise up. Today I arrive with nothing to feed my eye, A little bit nostalgic, I had the feeling that I belong here but not to death, So I left for the yard, at the backyard, I couldn’t belive what I saw on her gravestone, “Nigeria a country, not a nation”
0
Jul 3, 2016
Jul 3, 2016 at 10:09 AM UTC
Epitaph for Nigeria
In Lisbon, we blended ended the day with spectacular culinary Shopped and hopped side to side In Dublin, we vented as the whisky and Guinness was **** good Shipped the hire car to Galway In Italy, we invented dropped coins in fountains of love we already held From Florence, to Milan, to Rome, to Bologna In Paris, I rented alone in protests and hippies at Place De La Republique Dreamt of you as they skated In Romania, I persisted up on the icy Tranfagarasan highway traps I saw a bear and it had your eyes In Stockholm, we insisted As the Vasa sunk on tables of ***** Pecked on the trains and shied away. In London, we protested It was an ordinary day and the flowers didn't bloom The Thames was gloomy and stale In Oslo, we transmitted The reindeer meal and cranberry was a disaster The gloom followed us to southern skies In Copenhagen, you were sorted Smiled and amused by the Tivoli gardens The night became day and the wind withered In Amsterdam, we did what we did Stored the memories on the reclaimed lands Free-spirited in love and in eternity
0
May 19, 2016
May 19, 2016 at 6:05 PM UTC
Short Tracks of Europe
The four of us wrote each other fortune cookies And the sad part was that even though The cookies we baked together were sugary and warm None of the little squares of paper inside Made much indication of one another. You remarked that it had been exactly a year since You were where we were: Lying in a snowy field and watching the grey clouds rush From the horizon to the moon Illuminated by city lights too. You protested those lights, throwing doorknobs For the darkness but you couldn't break that streetlamp Until the sun had already risen and the LSD Had already worn off Such that there was nothing to do But read our fortunes quietly and sadly reminisce About that night we'd spent Melting the snow beneath our bodies.
0
Jan 18, 2014
Jan 18, 2014 at 7:07 PM UTC
We Made Fortune Cookies
This is in dedication to Mr. John Grant a spokesman for Veterans for Peace local 31. When during the late Bush years we protested the Bushy Zombies in West Chester Pa. This took place every Saturday from early morning till around 4 or 5 pm. He keep saying, "They're drinking the cool-aid." P.S. Veterans for Peace is also national and is registered under the U.N. with its own magazine. This was poem was written in 2010 Besides it has a rap beat to it Lies ah decieven' our minds ah believen' by ah drinkin' the cool-aid; eatin' funny-fudge Drive-by ah flyin' innocent babes ah dyin', while ah drinkin' the cool-aid; eatin' funny-fudge Blacks  against slavery racists say lazy, Jim Crow ah knowin', black vote ah growin', voter lines ah showen', black suppression ah growin', while ah drinkin' the cool-aid; eatin' funny-fudge Mr. sweater vest advisin' theocracy risin' ( Rick ******** gays cannot marry his heavy-load to carry, all Muslims are targets by his government harlots, body meedlers of women, no rights he has proven by ah drinkin' his cool-aid and eatin' funny-fudge Mexican Border right-wingers disorder, Jail complexes growin', their profits showin', public schools no maintain', corporate zombie schools gainin', while ah drinkin' the cool-aid; eatin' funny fudge Corporations are people super-vote-money inclusion, Super Pacs' delusion, Democracy illusion, while ah drinkin' the cool-aid; eatin' funny-fudge Profits by Lockheed Martin perpetual wars embarkin', wars appeasin' without good reason, while ah drinkin' the cool-aid; eatin' funny fudge No good reason callin' Wikkeleaks treason, while ah drinkin' the cool-aid; eatin' funny fudge Houses ah runnin' from ex-owners ah gruntin', our lands will desert us whole nature unnerved us, while ah drinkin' the cool-aid; eatin' funny fudge Street people ah growin' with hardly non knowin', parents ah cryin', hungry tots ah dyin', emergency rooms ah packin', it's healthcare ah lackin' While ah Wall Street ah hoppin' in triumph give-away-ah-hoppin', while ah drinkin' the cool-aid; eatin' funny fridge Slave hours grind us while paychecks are minus, GOP congress never behind us, while ah drinkin' the cool-aid; eatin' funny fudge, Zombies surround us to only remind us, QUIT DRINKIN' THE COOL-AID AND EATIN' FUNNY FUDGE!!!
0
Sep 19, 2014
Sep 19, 2014 at 4:19 AM UTC
Quit drinkin' the cool-aid
This is in dedication to Mr. John Grant a spokesman for Veterans for Peace local 31. When during the late Bush years we protested the Bushy Zombies in West Chester Pa. This took place every Saturday from early morning till around 4 or 5 pm. He keep saying, "They're drinking the cool-aid." P.S. Veterans for Peace is also national and is registered under the U.N. with its own magazine. This was poem was written in 2010 Besides it has a rap beat to it Lies ah decieven' our minds ah believen' by ah drinkin' the cool-aid; eatin' funny-fudge Drive-by ah flyin' innocent babes ah dyin', while ah drinkin' the cool-aid; eatin' funny-fudge Blacks  against slavery racists say lazy, Jim Crow ah knowin', black vote ah growin', voter lines ah showen', black suppression ah growin', while ah drinkin' the cool-aid; eatin' funny-fudge Mr. sweater vest advisin' theocracy risin' ( Rick ******** gays cannot marry his heavy-load to carry, all Muslims are targets by his government harlots, body meedlers of women, no rights he has proven by ah drinkin' his cool-aid and eatin' funny-fudge Mexican Border right-wingers disorder, Jail complexes growin', their profits showin', public schools no maintain', corporate zombie schools gainin', while ah drinkin' the cool-aid; eatin' funny fudge Corporations are people super-vote-money inclusion, Super Pacs' delusion, Democracy illusion, while ah drinkin' the cool-aid; eatin' funny-fudge Profits by Lockheed Martin perpetual wars embarkin', wars appeasin' without good reason, while ah drinkin' the cool-aid; eatin' funny fudge No good reason callin' Wikkeleaks treason, while ah drinkin' the cool-aid; eatin' funny fudge Houses ah runnin' from ex-owners ah gruntin', our lands will desert us whole nature unnerved us, while ah drinkin' the cool-aid; eatin' funny fudge Street people ah growin' with hardly non knowin', parents ah cryin', hungry tots ah dyin', emergency rooms ah packin', it's healthcare ah lackin' While ah Wall Street ah hoppin' in triumph give-away-ah-hoppin', while ah drinkin' the cool-aid; eatin' funny fridge Slave hours grind us while paychecks are minus, GOP congress never behind us, while ah drinkin' the cool-aid; eatin' funny fudge, Zombies surround us to only remind us, QUIT DRINKIN' THE COOL-AID AND EATIN' FUNNY FUDGE!!!
Continue reading...
45
We’ve been through so much together We’ve witnessed history together We saw the first moon landing We saw the Vietnam War on TV We protested the war in Washington, DC Our lives have been spent with each other Our long walks on the beach Our romantic candlelight dinner Our cruise vacation together Our romantic getaways to the Caribbean I told you when I met you That I love you will all m heart I told you that I want to be with you Forever and I want to grow old with you I told you that you complete me When I look into your eyes I see a world of possibilities And a world of happiness and love When I hug you my worries go away When I kiss you I share my love with you I know what we’re not perfect I know we had fights I know we wanted to **** each other But in the end we came back to each other Because I love you and I know you do too I want to grow old with you As our children have children And as the world changes for the better I want to keep on looking in those eyes And I want to love you long time I want to love you long time
0
Oct 10, 2011
Oct 10, 2011 at 2:00 PM UTC
LOVE YOU LONG TIME
he was radicalized in the marshes of Vietnam when they told him to fire his loaded gun at a group of school children a dissident who marched on Washington with a Reverend and a King and read Žižek Zinn and Chomsky's reflections on direct action and anarchistic philosophy a staunch opponent of police brutality in his fifties he protested the ****** of Rodney King he did not go quietly into the black abyss but raged against a putrescent apparatus obsessed with control he died waiting for the Revolution
0
Jan 27, 2016
Jan 27, 2016 at 11:28 PM UTC
dissident
How ill doth he deserve a lover’s name, Whose pale weak flame Cannot retain His heat, in spite of absence or disdain; But doth at once, like paper set on fire, Burn and expire; True love can never change his seat, Nor did her ever love, that could retreat. That noble flame which my breast keeps alive Shall still survive When my soul’s fled; Nor shall my love die when my body’s dead, That shall wait on me to the lower shade, And never fade; My very ashes in their urn Shall, like a hallow’d lamp, forever burn.
0
1.9k
Eternity Of Love Protested
Aubrey was confronted by her mom in the kitchen as she was making her lunch for school the next day. "Two sandwiches?" her mom questioned. "What's up with that, Aubrey? Since when do you eat more than one sandwich?" Actually Aubrey ate well. It was always a healthy lunch for her, perhaps a sandwich with some lettuce and tomato on it, or something cooked and leftover. She rarely indulged in sweet snacks, like her brother and sister did, never going without a couple pieces of fruit in her bag. Audrey was a freshman in high school, and she was a forthright girl. There was no need to hide anything, so she replied nonchalantly, "It's not for me. It is for Wade Hodak. He doesn't have a sandwich in his lunch". With her hands on her hips, Audrey's mom smelled something fishy. Was Wade taking advantage of her? She replied, "And why not? Since when is it up to you to look after him?" "Mom!" Aubrey protested. "He is lucky his mom even gets any child support from his dad! Her paycheck doesn't come til the end of the week. Sometimes, he eats okay, but sometimes they just don't have the money! You know how it is with bills and stuff! It is usually just a bag of chips and whatever else he can find" Aubrey's mom only vaguely knew of Wade Hodak. What little she knew of his mother, his mom seemed on the up-and-up. She remembered that the woman had to pull her daughter out of dance class because she couldn't afford it, the same class her younger daughter was in. Aubrey's mom smiled and gave her a kiss and a hug, "Peanut butter and jelly?" Well, don't lay it on too thin.", she advised. Aubrey smiled big, a sweet smile with those braces on her teeth, and she was becoming a beautiful, young woman, both inside and out. "That's what I was hoping you would say", Aubrey said and added, gratefully. "Thanks mom". Peanut butter and jelly it was.
0
Mar 16, 2017
Mar 16, 2017 at 8:28 PM UTC
He Doesn't Have A Sandwich (flash story)
Aubrey was confronted by her mom in the kitchen as she was making her lunch for school the next day. "Two sandwiches?" her mom questioned. "What's up with that, Aubrey? Since when do you eat more than one sandwich?" Actually Aubrey ate well. It was always a healthy lunch for her, perhaps a sandwich with some lettuce and tomato on it, or something cooked and leftover. She rarely indulged in sweet snacks, like her brother and sister did, never going without a couple pieces of fruit in her bag. Audrey was a freshman in high school, and she was a forthright girl. There was no need to hide anything, so she replied nonchalantly, "It's not for me. It is for Wade Hodak. He doesn't have a sandwich in his lunch". With her hands on her hips, Audrey's mom smelled something fishy. Was Wade taking advantage of her? She replied, "And why not? Since when is it up to you to look after him?" "Mom!" Aubrey protested. "He is lucky his mom even gets any child support from his dad! Her paycheck doesn't come til the end of the week. Sometimes, he eats okay, but sometimes they just don't have the money! You know how it is with bills and stuff! It is usually just a bag of chips and whatever else he can find" Aubrey's mom only vaguely knew of Wade Hodak. What little she knew of his mother, his mom seemed on the up-and-up. She remembered that the woman had to pull her daughter out of dance class because she couldn't afford it, the same class her younger daughter was in. Aubrey's mom smiled and gave her a kiss and a hug, "Peanut butter and jelly?" Well, don't lay it on too thin.", she advised. Aubrey smiled big, a sweet smile with those braces on her teeth, and she was becoming a beautiful, young woman, both inside and out. "That's what I was hoping you would say", Aubrey said and added, gratefully. "Thanks mom". Peanut butter and jelly it was.
Continue reading...
7
The other day my colleague came up to me with his iPad and he said, “You love Rembrandt?” “Uh ha,” I said *“Well, look at this google image. This is Rembrandt’s Parents Making Love”* And I looked at the image he had conjured and sure enough there was a portrait of Rembrandt’s parents in bed, you know, doing that, doing it… Rembrandt’s Parents Making Love And I protested: *“How can that be? That’s not a Rembrandt, no!”* “Sure it is,” said my colleague. *“That’s what they are making. It's definitely an artist’s conception.”*
0
Jan 17, 2014
Jan 17, 2014 at 1:53 AM UTC
Rembrandt’s parents painted in the act
Did you check within your dream? Are you hiding in your sleep? Has this world become surreal? Follow me Bless the night Bless the sky Bless the woman who conceived this child Bless the tide Bless every lie Bless he who lets his imagination run wild You judge me for my judgment upon right and wrong But what is good and what is bad? Nothing Neutrality What is cast as good through the mass is later protested against in majority for the wrong choice. Wrong again. Eyes sinking in deep thought The blackness you carry has been a burden not only to yourself Your past is circling you and all you do is cry You replace the beauty of nature with artificiality Like the flowers in your vase which once required care Now cast into a world of no restrain or effort You say you understand But do you really? Or are you yet again simply judging my thoughts based upon the facts you know about both you and I? The grass you lie upon will later burn you and cause you to lose what is known to man as 'sanity'. In the future you will rest upon dreams, rely upon liars, welcome the unworthy, lift your servants, free the captives and live what you have thought impossible. Be thankful I am tired for my mind is restricted to a line of thought so thin that once concentration is lost, there is no return.
0
Aug 28, 2012
Aug 28, 2012 at 7:32 AM UTC
One Night's Thoughts
There was something heartbreaking in his gaze. Looking into his eyes Was like watching every good and perfect thing in this world Shatter. It was as though All the stars had fallen out of the sky And splintered into glittering fragments all over the ground. It was as though The sun and the moon had collided, Raining shining pieces all over the earth. Looking into his eyes, I felt my very being Shattering, Being pulled asunder by his loneliness. And it was exciting. I felt my heart quicken, Pounding fast with the prospect Of watching the world end over And over again. I knew this was the kind of loneliness That gnawed at the world from its foundations, Prowling like an un-mourned soul And, in its brooding solitude, Whipped up the howling winds that keep children up at night. In all my sun-drenched life, I had never seen a darker being. I had never been this intoxicated by a mere gaze. I had never known a bitterness so strong. My world was all sweet harvests and smiling flowers, But when he touched me, It felt as though I'd stuffed my mouth with dandelion greens. My taste buds protested but my body thrilled, Reveling in his Armageddon eyes. His fingertips were ice, Trailing down my goose-pimpled skin, And I knew I was the first hot-blooded woman he'd held. I wanted to add fire to his shattered soul. I wanted to watch the fragments of the world Smoldering when he looked at me. I wanted to feel his fierce loneliness grab me by the hair And set my heart aflame. And he did. As I watched the heavens colliding, I offered all the heat of my veins, And he drank it in like the gods guzzle nectar. He slipped his arm around my waist And ferried me across the River Styx. So I watched the world end, One soul after the other, Cooling slowly from revelry To bitterness As he burned with borrowed flames. I dreamed about supernovas, Stars exploding out of the sky. I'd been so quick to trade sunshine for his eternal night, Never considering that I'd be getting nothing in return. I wondered if my gaze had begun to shatter.
0
Nov 27, 2010
Nov 27, 2010 at 6:48 PM UTC
Persephone
There was something heartbreaking in his gaze. Looking into his eyes Was like watching every good and perfect thing in this world Shatter. It was as though All the stars had fallen out of the sky And splintered into glittering fragments all over the ground. It was as though The sun and the moon had collided, Raining shining pieces all over the earth. Looking into his eyes, I felt my very being Shattering, Being pulled asunder by his loneliness. And it was exciting. I felt my heart quicken, Pounding fast with the prospect Of watching the world end over And over again. I knew this was the kind of loneliness That gnawed at the world from its foundations, Prowling like an un-mourned soul And, in its brooding solitude, Whipped up the howling winds that keep children up at night. In all my sun-drenched life, I had never seen a darker being. I had never been this intoxicated by a mere gaze. I had never known a bitterness so strong. My world was all sweet harvests and smiling flowers, But when he touched me, It felt as though I'd stuffed my mouth with dandelion greens. My taste buds protested but my body thrilled, Reveling in his Armageddon eyes. His fingertips were ice, Trailing down my goose-pimpled skin, And I knew I was the first hot-blooded woman he'd held. I wanted to add fire to his shattered soul. I wanted to watch the fragments of the world Smoldering when he looked at me. I wanted to feel his fierce loneliness grab me by the hair And set my heart aflame. And he did. As I watched the heavens colliding, I offered all the heat of my veins, And he drank it in like the gods guzzle nectar. He slipped his arm around my waist And ferried me across the River Styx. So I watched the world end, One soul after the other, Cooling slowly from revelry To bitterness As he burned with borrowed flames. I dreamed about supernovas, Stars exploding out of the sky. I'd been so quick to trade sunshine for his eternal night, Never considering that I'd be getting nothing in return. I wondered if my gaze had begun to shatter.
Continue reading...
57
I will never be able to eat a grapefruit again without thinking of you. I remember when I used to hate that sour flesh It made the sides of my mouth turn down on their own, biting into that bitterness and tasting its wicked juice. I liked sweet things, the sweeter the better, piled five packets of refined sugar into my coffee, (they're tiny, right?) sprinkled sugar onto my vegetables to make them go down better, skipped dinner for dessert. But you couldn't handle the sweet, you protested every time I tried to feed you a treat. It made your stomach turn and your teeth hurt. I couldn't understand it. but the meals cycled on like everything else we shared, and slowly our tastes circled in from opposite ends of the spectrum. Nowadays, I'll eat my grapefruit with a bit of sugar, and you'll take your smoothies with a bit of lime, And everything we share together will be sweet and sour all at once, The most beautiful flavor I've ever had.
0
Mar 24, 2014
Mar 24, 2014 at 12:57 PM UTC
grapefruit