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Boaz Priestly Apr 2017
the funny thing is
when my mom was together with my dad
--like as a thing and he would
run to the pay phone across the street from where
he lived whenever his pager went off that
she was calling him--
his dad asked her is she was going to
give him a grandson
and my mom
being the person that she is
told me that she laughed and said maybe

the funny thing is
when i was born and the midwife
announced that i was a girl
my nan who had mistook my umbilical cord
for a ***** leaned over and asked
the midwife if they were sure

the funny thing is
my grandfather’s mother
she always thought that i was a boy
and yes i know that she had alzheimers
and was not all there
but now i feel like she was able to
see through my dresses and long hair
to the boy that i would one day be

the funny thing is
i was often mistaken for a boy as a child
and when that happened there was always
a little burst of warmth because yes
i was a boy
i looked like a boy
i felt like a boy
but no no no
silly girl they all would say

the funny thing is
when i first met my father’s father
my grandfather if you will
i was a lesbian
and in texas that isn’t a widely accepted thing
and i was told a lot during my two week visit
that i just hadn’t found the right man yet
and so now that i am a man
i wonder what they would tell me now

the funny thing is
i don’t have bottom dysphoria
have a ****** does not bother me
i like being able to comfortably ride a bike
and read ****** novels in public
without it being obvious that that is
what i am doing

the funny thing is
my grandfather’s mother
who we all called papa lucy
died before i realized that i wasn’t a girl
i had that terrifying revelation at seven
and though my memory is foggy
through much of my childhood
she passed a year or two prior to that
and no i do not mean it is funny that
she died because that is terrible and i loved
her with all my heart
but it is funny that she saw who it would take
me nine years to be
and i didn’t get to reintroduce myself to her
and tell her she was right

the funny thing is
now that i am a boy
i am near-constantly misgendered
and it seems that no amount of slouching
or wearing a binder under it feels like my
ribs are cracking with every breath
and wearing pronoun buttons on my sweatshirt
and bright rainbow beanie
is enough to make people see otherwise

but ****** i am a boy
and my nan thought i was a boy
and my papa lucy knew i was a boy
and i used to get mistaken for a boy
before i grew hips and ****
and despite all those things i am still
a boy and i always have been and i always
will be and the really not funny thing about that is that
people seem so eager to tell me i am wrong
and try to force me back into the box of
daughter and woman and mother and sister
and no i will not be those things
and it is not my fault that i live in this world
where they do not know what
a body other than theirs means and how terrifying it is
to realize you are not the girl you were raised as at such a
young age you do not have words to describe how you feel
and they do not know
and they will not know
until they shut their mouths and open their minds

so please do
before any more of my transgender brothers and sisters
have to die for your ignorance and hate and fear
because there is nothing funny about that
igc May 2015
Up
I can feel my lungs collapsing with every shallow breath
And I can't decide if it's the holes left behind from
cigarette smoke burns
Or the pieces of me that followed behind you

It's 10:05 and as much as I keep trying to warp the truth
the minutes tick on leaving me stranded in seconds of long lost times

Wishing from fruitless bones
Remembering could have beens that weren't
And chasing endings that never quite were within reach

And I know cigarette fills don't last
But I can ******* time running out
And my bones refuse to give away hints to weather it's a
countdown or liftoff
The essence never quite strong enough to disguise
the bitter after-taste your words left behind with me

It's 4:00 am and as smoke fills my lungs
I vaguely remember being told
the only souls awake at this time are
the lonely and the loved

Now it's been months since I was introduced to this hour but still
all I feel is nothing.

You told me pretty girls don't light their own cigarettes
but that never stopped my lungs from burning
every time you breathed my way

Leaving scars of razor sharp words never spoken
Pushed down to the hollow of my scorching throat
Thirsting for the oasis of the syllables
they were never quite within reach of quenching.

They say cigarettes curve your hunger.
And I guess they're almost right because
so far all this nasty habit has curved is
My appetite for you

Now it Hurts to realize that the attention
I mean cigarettes
You willingly offered were just cleverly disguised poison
Burning away my insecurities only to reintroduce them in misunderstood exhales of passion

All I have left to feel are my lungs gasping for every last breath
Lungs pulsing for every last breath
Lungs shrinking to accommodate every last breath
You took away from me
Aquila Jun 2021
The last time you knew me,
I was not
as fond of substances.
when you decided not to know me anymore,
the
    downwards
                       spiral
                                began-
allow me to reintroduce myself:
Hello, my name is unimportant, and my brain is buzzing.
thats all there is
Robert Guerrero May 2013
You have the audacity
To stroll by my house
Thinking your tough ****
Calling out to me that I'm the *****
You already met my fist
Once, twice before
So if you want
I shall reintroduce to you
My fist
Hey *****
And *******
Now that you're acquainted
Get the **** out of my neck of the woods
And learn your place
At the bottom of the dirt on my shoes
I wish you the best of luck
With the disfigurement of your face
But think again before
You want to have a rematch
You should of learned the first and second time
You can't and wont beat me
And please don't get your big brother
Because his 6 foot 209 lbs ***
Will be quickly hospitalized just like the last time
He made the same foolish decision you did
Plus it will just make you look just that much more
Of the pathetic **** faced ***** that you are
So please leave me alone
I really don't have the time
To play these childish games with you
Hey *****...*******
The names of my fist that
Have left their mark on your face
I had a fight with a kid who thought his **** didn't stink, had to teach him a lesson again. What is wrong with people now a days? Their ego is getting too big.
Poetictunes Sep 2016
P.t
Can we start over again?
Can we be strangers again?
This time we'll start off as friends and not lovers.
Maybe we can see if there really is chemistry, and not just between the covers.
This time we can actually spend time talking?
We can laugh
And recreate memories
And give each other a second chance
Let me reintroduce myself
Alliesaurus Jan 2011
If I promise not to empty my lint trap,
will you promise to come back
and reintroduce yourself as the "boy who likes the leaves on your wall"
to the girl who is "lucky enough to have beautifully colored lint,
kind of like a rainbow"?

It's the closest I've ever been told,
"she's like a rainbow".
January 2011
vircapio gale Sep 2012
wakefulness demands a certain clearness when asleep . . .
it doesn't come as planned
"tat tvam asi"
LaBerge says to me in dream of me
"this world you are, withstanding even torments thou art never seen."
and that's enough to suffer aching, opaque psyche summit, forward
heart to rise an interspecies knell when danceless fades the bee in droves...
aimless whales who singing deep in love are cut from evolution's murky chain...
fungal blight of hibernaculum, in deafened sonar sending sudden drop of death;
to horror fragment melt, the ocean swill from ancient caps to sunken polar paw
diverse in massacre of tropic forest fertile mists, lives dispersed
and balance tipped from blindness not unlike the sterile statue's, there
                                                          i­n dusty courthouse corner, shadow-lined with infamy...
what imagined cartoon causal Captain Planet              
                            villainy to blare across oneiromantic globe? and (dreaming?) civil strife,                  
       eradication's alter triumph pose to measure blame in inner life?
of empiric meditation's top, in *******
churning out abuse in deeper,
                                                         ­   younger hidden traffics yet to terrorize the net...                                  
                                             the scraping of the sky had punctured through                                
                         ­                                      from metaphor to fact
                                       the sooty barbs
                            in radiance rebound    
and irony affected 'green'
                  folds crisis and solution into one                            we hope
                like what we say we are, becoming change                      in wartime summer fling    
we                                                        
say we can in world of 'me'                                      
in guilt-assuaging verve
                                  the heifer-gift to village fief
    but then to rest against organic pillow-conscience gray                                                             ­       
                                                               soundly snoring smokestacks fill from ground to sky
still for sly investment windfall   fog  billow, shake...                             
transcontinental scape of dream imbued anew:
i am the genie of my ownmost inner lamp
in dreamtime-being spacious constellational of reach distilled
in contemplation's tratak zoom mInute
   with jet black finger trace
    i net                                                              ­                                        from out the inter-earthen air                
                                             ­                                              the lump on lump of coal
                massaging from                                                             ­      as if an ivory atmospheric                  
lift                   of      weight  
                           the sculpture of our past condensed in elephantine ******
                                                 miasmic fossil shower-haze of sporogenic fear,
mneumonic nail-tusk night of carbon-spirit back into its hold -- originary dark,
Dark light from burning black                                                 once again contained                                                      in elemental subterrain                                                       ­                                                       
         ­                                        --now it underlies the ground inside for triple shielding outshine
--outer-- light to cool us breathing once again . , ,    
false convenience in abeyance in a human time!                                
i am right now of inward self my soul supernal carbon imprint copy                             
for accounting every speciesistic mind to open wide enough and quell the "all-too human plagues--                                                                           ­       cheering all penultimates, in beams reflecting ante-truth          
                                                 down halls of mirror-minds that lightly discourse
on the ingress of a centaur saving power
channeling the leylines of inception,
ecstatic dreamworld of apotheosic glee:
parting the eidetic clouds,
commune an avatar intentionality . . .
ensorcelling the foodstuffs of the world to feed a dozen million refugees,
insectile diet pride attends in homes of affluence,
the abstract mass of media, become eupeptic cud of understanding bats and even bees--
for biospheres a Goodall stewardship arrives
(her perfect chimp call too resounds across the earth!)
and dwindled frogs their former ponds (unknown, destroyed without a sound)
return to chirping vibrant green symphonic swooning life
the glacial march of tears to halt . . .
all ecosystems rife withall
the panegyric of marshlands globally reborn  
along with shining waters, algaeic sun alive at play
in double-helix breath of dolphin families' bubble art
a sudden resurrect from ****** harvest cove arise cascading joyous leap
on final absence of the metal herding knock of trapping pods
no longer hacked in waves of pink, mere preparations for a restaurant sink--
they are free to swim the depth of worldheart dreaming unknown dream entire real again
marine apsaras dip in spectra (flicker eyelid) rays, reintroduce the dawn
her fine apparel calling forth transhuman destinies
unsplicing brilliant minds from ****** task of splicing GMOs
recycled randomness accepting death before we die
mycelium in runs of spilling-- all undone --
migrational attuned our resource use
and CSAs to thrive in eco-city scapes
no solopsistic somniac pretends
--the dream imbued in final hue
a momentary lapse, creationary flux--
the bombs defused in flick of wrist
indentured and enslaved, imprisoned innocents, oppressed and even self-deprived released
through selfhood's metaviral claim
ground of each dependent intertwining
whatness will to be
a place in which to hum in tune or out of tune
to heal and in a another dream aside from this perhaps with me partake
in true oneiric panoply of conflict held
--with permeating rigpa geogaze--
colliding ideologies transmuted into trust
in panharmonium of varied vision
and what the ever present boons of real, imagined symbol-real
create awake












.
AJ James Sep 2015
"Hypothetically,"  hypocrisy has become the new democracy.
Socrates once said "You must break free from society",
Admittedly, that is not a direct quote.

Woe, oh, no I do not believe in aligning my stars
with your sharp minded attitude that controls me from afar.
Hardships ahead suggest that you best let go of your
previously consumed ideals and feelings and repeal from
the concave society that begs us to encourage our propriety.

Sigh, it seems that this community of this city
is stuck in a trance and they do not wish to be disturbed.
Well I'm perturbed by that fact, yet I act like I understand
the zombie-like trance that has taken hold of all that are breathing,
Leaving only a few confounded by the monstrosity of this reaping.

Keep me here, away from the stagnant ailment that has
an arrant grip on the throats of the blokes that were
ignorant enough to believe that indiscretion.

True, it's become my obsession to call out all that is nonsensical.
It's apocalyptical! Their anonymity is frankly mystical.
Their words seem to be lathed with mechanical phrases and verbs,
again I'm perturbed and what's even worse, is I find myself intrigued by their complete lack of identity that I can't make sense of me.

See? It's a seductive prospect to attempt to project yourself into
that cult, but as a result all your visions of freedom will dither
and wither into nothingness.

Although, they're courteous enough to let you keep your vanity,
but the rest of you, all your thoughts of clean and lucid dreams, are
reamed from your mind, wound down to a soft and empty grind.

My, you really should ignite a morsel of self-respect to check out
of this direct fog that is hogging any last bit of intellect.
Dissect one thought from the other and then you'll wonder
how to crawl out of this ignorant hole that has
swallowed you down, consuming your soul.

Pull yourself away from their depreciating ways.
Reintroduce yourself to free will and thoughts
so you can be brought back to life and maybe even have
a deeply un-contrived and well-thought about thought.

Be wise, snap back into reality and let gravity do it's job.
Throb goes your heart.
Did you feel that? That puncture in your chest?
It's doing it's best to let you know that you're alive,
high with breath on your tongue and in your lungs,
Filled to the seams, light beams from your fingers.

Do not linger, here in this moment, rush to the surface
and escape the airless lies that are encrusting your soul.
Pull yourself up to the surface and allow yourself to be woken.

Broken you may be, but you can be renewed if you give yourself
permission to control your own admission.
So permise it and recommit to standing on your own two feet
and weep with joy at your eternal freedom.

This is where I leave you.
Alone with your lonesome self...
Relish in your new-found magnum opus,
let it give you focus to hone in on your blooming
and lucid, conscious brewing.

Keep it stewing.
Stirring to formalize your new ignition,
no longer is this a road to your perdition.
Ridden your thoughts, let your conformity rot
and let that *** stew all of your now, new
delectable thoughts.
Poetry by MAN Jun 2013
Oh Poetry, Oh Poetry
You have given me new life
And another reason to be scolded by the one in my life
She doesn't approve of any thing that I do
to her I'm just a silly rhyming fool
She is the anti poet I don't say this in jest
She says poetry ***** and points her finger in my chest
I crack a big smile as I sit in eternal bliss
I ponder my next poem will it be a hit or miss?
Should I make one about flying away on wings of words
Or create a universe where I float away on ships of verbs
My mastery is endless as I spin a syllable through time upon my magic carpet made of rhyme
For finally, I have found my one true home my confidence everyday has grown
I'm grateful to this ancient art, I pledge to poetry to do my part
To reintroduce what wasn't lost for that I will pay any cost
Oh Poetry, Oh Poetry you have given me life
I was just kidding
With poetry I can express my love in many ways to the one in my life
As long as she doesn't knock my
Oh Poetry, Oh Poetry. =D
6-26-13 M.A.N
NeroameeAlucard Sep 2015
This is the next movement a new notebook a new feeling some spoken word smooth **** for everybody to vibe and groove with
First allow me to reintroduce myself my name is Neroamee Alucard despite the name if I played football I'd need a c$ck guard
My heart is hard due to pain and rain weighing on Me like an anvil on my brain. My mind is icy like Mr. Freeze with ease I displease myself and defeat all these toy emcees
Gears are grinding like a slow jam let me run this poetic program enough of my sappy bland ******* I gotta speak my mind in rhyme so if you've ever had depression or thought of suicide then pay close attention to this line
It sounds cliche but it's always darkest before the break of day so it may be bad and cold right now but it gets better my friend so put that knife down don't let your story end
Spoken Word
Dana Kathleen Nov 2015
Forever in Almost

I read a poem applauding your second love
for teaching you that love still exists
after being broken, but what if your second love
is the same as your first, but not the same at all?

The same arms hold me, but they feel new.
Like when the bus is pulling away but stops
to let you on or when the light turns yellow
with just enough time for you to slip through
or when you catch the door before it closes
or when you drop something  
and catch it in time.

We lost each other like missed exits that keep driving
but found ourselves and now we know all
we have to lose. Dancing with the words we
only danced around before like a spinning top,
one wrong breath could end it.
How can something so fragile not be beautiful?

To have the person who broke you be the person
to reintroduce you to 3am’s,
drives with no destination,
street hugs covered in darkness,
and brown eyes being beautiful.

But he didn’t break me. I broke
by telling myself I loved him when really,
he was the first person I wanted
to love and be loved back by
but I’ve learned that’s not always how it works.
Sometimes you miss each other
like points plotted on the same grid
but not the same spot or parallel lines
that just run side-by-side.

Because, sometimes the bus leaves,
the light turns red,
the door closes,
and you can’t
catch it in time.
Almost there,
but never doing
what it takes
to be there.

So we’ll live together forever
in what we have built and left,
in what could have been,
in what almost was,
and what a beautiful
thing that is.
Not sure how I feel about this poem yet, still thinking of images to add.
Jakob Walker Oct 2016
My mind is stuck between the everlasting feelings of admiration and the cold wonder of hesitation
What is going on with me?
The feelings that I used to trust so much have become nothing but mere suggestions and a hunch
What is going on with me?

It should just be so simple
To recognize and act on every symbol
But the fact is that it is not always so simple
And the feelings that once were my closest friend have become a stranger in a familiar place

I shouldn’t have to reintroduce myself to my feelings
What will I even say?
As I glaze up at the ceiling I sit and ponder
Will I ever come up with a solution for this worry and wonder

I run on heart alone
Because my brain deceives me
But as cracked and weathered as an old stone
My heart is beginning to be

I need to restore it
Give it new light
Bring it to a place where it can restore
And give it something to see

I need to turn this stone heart into a flourishing plant
Never to be killed because the light will never disappear
But that future doesn’t appear to be near
So for now I will just sit, waiting, wondering, over here.
Disaster Child Dec 2014
Can we restart?
Reintroduce ourselves
We'll be strangers for the first little while
But just like before, we'll be fast friends
We'll look out for each other
We'll do what we did before
But with all the more knowledge and experience
I want to get lost in your eyes again
I want to learn you starting from nothing
So tell me:
Starting the hour I get off the plane
And we see each other again after so long
Can it be the first time
We've ever met
Again
Serenus Raymone Oct 2012
The World Will Not Be Pleased

(Poem by Serenus)



I can’t please everybody

That’s the bottom line

I tried to fit their mold for me

And I failed every time



I made myself the “nice guy”

Reliable…Mr. Dependable

Now I realize- to most of them

I was just expendable



Disposable, unnoticeable

Until they needed something from me

I was so approachable

Now I’m uncontrollable

Because they can’t get what they need


A change was bound to come

And it was very clear to see

Let me reintroduce myself

This is the brand new me…


Oh you don't like it?

You know that you are

Free too leave...

because no matter what i do


…The world will not be pleased



I can’t make everyone happy

And yes I’m done with trying

I realize it will be the death of me

If I continue complying



Ask me to jump

And I’ll never again say “how high?”

Id share with you my water

In the heat of a desert

But you would just drain me dry



Love me for who I am

I refuse to beg and plead

Id rather die standing up

Than live forever on my knees



I love the word “No”

I can now say it with such ease

Something so simple

Has absolutely set me free…


I could care less

If you don't like me

Your hate will not be appeased

because no matter how

"Perfect" i try to be


…The world will not be pleased
Robby Robinson Jan 2016
Hello there,
Its been a while.
Did you miss me?..
Of course you did,
We're old friends after all.

I'll admit,
I'm a bit disappointed.
You tried to ignore me for a while,
Tried to shut me out.

Did you forget so easily?
You need me to survive, remember?
I am part of you,
I always have been.

May as well face it,
You’re stuck with me.
Just let me take control...
It’ll be easier that way.

I promise I won't hurt you.
I'll be gentle.
After a while,
You might forget that I'm even there.

I'll reintroduce myself,
Since it's been a while.
Hello there,
My name is Mr. Anxiety.

And I missed you, oh so dearly.
Because everyone knows this old friend..
Simon Aug 2020
Fantasy wasn’t always grim! It used to much more lighthearted than ALL facts put together into one fantasy collaboration. Which is exactly what’s happening in this very tale. This world. This setting. This… Well, there was once this one clan of people, who shined more than all other clans originating from the very same species who reigned as the “capital power”! An interspecies. A subspecies. Something that was greatly interwoven for many generations. Until one day, all clans became suddenly quiet. Distancing themselves from the very same who reigned as the capital power. One who merely outshined ALL the rest into complete seclusion! Doing something that was just part of their charm. Their charismatic behavior. Something that was docile (at first). Later on, showing it was entirely shameful of what they’d done too deserve whatever it was that gave them that very “capital power” to begin with. Seeing as how they control one of the most beautiful creatures that dominate the high mountain tops the world had ever looked up upon when kneeling down right at the setting foot of a monstrosity looked up to as a god! These very high mountain tops were where the most beautiful of creatures lived. Soaring higher than anything to have ever bear witness towards. A Griffin! The clan of the very species that was connected to all the other clans, are made up of the same originality! They are all related. Once. But entirely spread outward with benefits too ONLY…their own people. Their own clan. A testament to a claim willing to tear each other apart… Until there was nothing left but the once memory that echoed throughout the land. The world. Nothing but “ash” in the coming times would make this truth more fruitful than it truly appeared to be. A truth that would test this very clan that shined more brightly than all the other’s combined. The one with the so-called “capital power” would rather dethrone themselves completely! Than to give into fear of the contempt for their very actions. Something that tempts them (very much so) …. Another clan (so to speak). An enemy! Full of much more variety then the one who stood above the rest. The one (who in time) would come to be known simply… As the “Questionians”! Their very name comes from how they are a complete mystery. That may not exactly be what they essentially are called. Or refer to themselves (alone) as... Except when they do some unspeakable horror that claims witness to a crime that’d free every other clan put together (of the very same “original species” among different factions). If this exact thing actually took place, then everything would be put in complete shambles! Showing that they are the “shadow” of this very (“capital power”) clan’s democracy! A thing or force too GREATLY fear! Or else…. Or else, they would do something that would pave the groundwork for even truer fear to come about (sooner rather than later). Then what was actually taken seriously, previously. The clan that’s MOST “threatened” upon the arrival of the sudden “impending doom scenario” … Is none other than the clan known better as “the people of the Griff”! A very peaceful and agricultural people who don’t take anything out of account officially… Unless it truly meant something for them to bear witness to within their entire selves. Since there’s something very potentially “meddling” going on within these very people. First off, they keep too themselves “happily” alone. And unaided from the outside world and the rest of its (once) interconnected species that have spread out too wide to care (anymore) about coming back to the so-called “old days”. Old days when it was of the MOST prideful! Also, where the most of prime “examples” could be made and smoothed out for the better! But what the people of the Griff value even more (upon themselves directly) … Is the most beautiful creature in the land. The Griffin! A Griffin is perhaps the people of the Griff’s most prime example to the status of a mere god! The very homeland where they grow and stride and nurture their very motions upon the mountain tops that are also referred to as gods! But not to the people of the Griff…. O NO! They don’t look upon the mighty monstrosity that is their very “worshiping” deity. They worship the very creatures that live among the very tops of that very worshiping deity (that the other “separated” clans essentially worship). As time passed, they somehow were able to bind their very free will to this “blessing” that is these magnificent creatures! Binding also their very tolerances (to the Griffins itself). Just as life itself had also binded the people of the Griff (in time) to each other. Which is where the enemy comes in. The Questionians. Finally becoming “questioned” for why they’d have one of the most bizarre names for a “impending doom scenario” ever imagined! That’s because the enemy is literally questionless. They don’t have that which the people of the Griff just seem to (conveniently) have that they themselves…do not! Forcing the Questionians to claim (what they don’t have, to officially seize otherwise) for themselves…ONLY! But that was only apart of the tale that is made to be grim among ALL fantasy collaborations put together. As fantasy wasn’t always grim. Until the collapsing of a once (friendly) confrontation had already happened…long ago. Which sparked countless dangers that are totally unheard of… Until a hero was finally able to rise up above ALL others and risk the very land the people of this world breathed truthfully for themselves and themselves…alone! A hero who would (in due time) come about changing all specifics in a world that was once wholesome. Now it’s just a teetering land on the brink of war! War that was (more specifically) a mere illusion made to justify an even worse crime made to happen. The war effort was just a downplayed diversion not really bright for “comfort” itself to take rather seriously! However, the hero who’d come to truly redefine the locals of this land and its very world back into (seemingly) “ceremonial” times… Is a young man named “Salivardt”. Who apparently, is a member of the people of the Griff. Accompanied by the strongest heroine that would be this hero’s “go-getters” type guidance. Her name was that of the very feisty “Fabian”! Who has a very mysterious past (that is said: to be hinted at being a member of that very questionless clan group)? One who is on the brink of utter disorder from also (within themselves). And together, they would reach a very “breaking point” of how each of their very destinies “securely” …come together. (And how “linear” it must seem…) Would literally reintroduce the once (“interconnected”) state that each clan of the same species once shared. ALL coming back together into one singular species! Introducing a global front that is a respectful… “unifying whole”!
A “fantasy” testament of willpower both doesn’t a-and can’t agree with itself. Unless it’s politely willing too argue against something it’s never come across before… Until (once upon a time ago) something merely told it too…of a certain “destiny” going around!
PS… Would you certainly then start to argue against something you never came across before…?
Anais Vionet May 2024
Something’s happening, let’s call it sunrise, for now,
and summer vacation in Geneva, in umm.. 10 hours.
My heart-beat is spiking, like a flag or kite flying.
I’m leaving an empty room - making one last pass with a broom.

I’m stuffing my bag, with the last few things, for escape on aluminum wings.
My dreams, woven in bright, butterfly tapestries, are rolled and folded -
packed between urgent fantasies and harsh, time-sensitive practicalities.

I know you’re there, a quarter-world away, good news, pegasus awaits,
to streak gulf-stream high, over choppy oceans wide with mechanical fire,
its ice-cycle crystal contrail will point, like cherub cupid's arrow, toward you.

Forget pixels, tech instruments, remote lifeline connections,
and prayer-like whispers over thin, criss-crossed wires.
I’m making my move, coming compass-needle true,
to press up close, reintroduce, extemporize and ******.
.
.
music for this:
Someday by Sugar Ray
sunburn by almost monday
This Charming Man by The Smiths
Heaven by Los Lonely Boys
BLT Merriam Webster word of the day challenge: extemporize: to improvise
Rhianecdote Jun 2015
I see you're wary of my motivation for reconciliation
Maybe getting flirty with you the other day was a mistake but it was only a bit of fun. No vowel play -Don't stress it.

You're doing that thing where you're getting all weird and apologetic,
not replying for time, was a time I'd just think forget it

Cause the cryptic **** is frustrating,
but as times gone by, the emotions subside I find it a-cute-ly boring, bordering on comical.

Got me thinking dang this use to affect me like a rat invested rental - how did I let it?!  Sinking waiting for you to be blunt or upfront is like tryin to understand ****** -I'll never get it.

I know this now so don't sweat it, I expect no less, I accept it. If the convos dead it's dead, I've said it.

I merely seek to be reconciled with the situation so I can make my peace. I said my piece, put it to bed, it's dead rest in peace. Just tryin to love thy neighbourly, maybe get some more recipes: rice and peas.

Cause the most I'd hope for is friendship but I won't force it, they'll be no pleas and thank yous, it's true I missed what it used to be, I miss the person in you I used to see.

I don't know what it will be now; that times passed. I don't know who you are now; I'm not sure if I ever did but to resurrect the past is not the plan in all of this

So Let me reintroduce myself,
Hey, I'm Rhian
Let me Shake your hand
I know you hope for understanding,
I try hard to understand
But you don't always express yourself as best you can
I stress You can
Don't be afraid the clean slate
Will free your hands
Roll the dice
Tell me where it lands
If it's possible to
Reconcile as solo artists
With fond memories of our band

But if not

**Best wishes are still my command
Dear oh Dear , these situations do make me laugh. Its all gonna be alright
Carlos PD Oct 2015
in the beginning
she was sad.
she looked over the vast expanse of emptiness
inside her chest
and said to herself;
"i am sad"
so there was light.
every corner of her void
lit up with the haste of a light switch
flicking every bit of shadow outward
and revealing all the dark that light could not touch
and she saw this darkness that remained still
and said to herself;
"i am sad"
and so came the horizon.
a single line that divides drowning and flying
often blurred by sunrise and sunset
always gazed upon and set as a destination
but never quite reached
because she never learned how to swim
and so she made land.
she made contact with her feet
walking among the trees
that fell her dreams in forests with only her to hear
them
and she heard them all.
calling her either too thin
or too thick
or too willing
or too undecided whether to gasp for air or grasp his hair for more
so she became the moon.
surveying every shore and valley
shining light on those that would dare to look up
beyond their own realities and insecurities.
but as she looked around herself
she saw that the sky was bare
so she found her birds.
friends that would share the air around her
and let her breathe
with the wind from their wings
lifting her up beyond all that she thought she was
and she smiled a crescent moon and became what she forgot she was, beautiful.

when i looked up at the moon
i saw no moon
i only saw the craters in her heart
contrasting the brightness of her soul
beautiful.
when i landed on the moon
i gazed upon the earth and saw a planet
and not seven point one billion people
not seven point one billion reasons to be disappointed
in the advances of new ways we can hurt each other.
no, while i was on the moon,
as far as i was concerned,
out of seven point one billion people living,
only one exists;
her.
she was my moon
and i was her's
but that was then
and this is now
and it's time to face present;
on the seventh day, god rested
on the fourth week, she attested to the proof around her
and she saw all
and said to herself;
"i am glad"
and we felt how we felt
and we did what we did
and it was wonderful
and spectacular
speaking only in vernacular
familiar
only to our minds
that synchronized
speaking words we never spoke
and made promises we never swore
and we knew how we felt about each other.
it was beautiful.
we were beautiful.
but that was then
and this is now.
we built too high too soon
giving each other all the bricks
that composed the walls of our broken hearts
and so the tower of babel collapsed
and we spoke in different tongues
left trying to guess what every gesture
and word could possibly mean
and i was desperate.
she looked at me and said;
"i am scared"
and so we became what we used to be
in the time when we felt no doubt about each other
because we didn't know one another back then
we became strangers.
passing each other in crowded hallways
trying to avoid each other's existence
and in the test of togetherness
we dropped from a perfect score of one hundred
to zero.
we sank in the ocean we made of our melted selves
and she took the last lifeboat to the horizon
and left me gasping for the air
that used to be between our lips
shivering in the cold of the lack of her embrace.
but i know how to swim.
i reached the shore.
looking for shelter i found that every door
that leads to her has locks with her name on them
and for the life of me
i could not remember the combination
or if she even gave it to me.
so i built my own house.
it's crooked
leans a bit to the left
with four walls, a roof, a floor
and a door
that i'm leaving open.
you don't have to knock
or find a key
feel free
come in again.
and if ever you don't
i'm not staying here
i'm not giving up.
i'll go out
and for the first time in five years
i'll knock on your door first.
i'll ask if i can come in,
i'll reintroduce myself
and ask permission
to know you again.
and i hope
that when we meet once more,
you'll say to yourself;
"i am glad."
to the friend that refused to accept these three pages that i hastily ripped off, thank you.
Evan McClellan Nov 2014
Red
Like our love
My veins still have remains
Something I cannot get rid of
And it’s you

In fact
The blood test came back
Like my suicide pact
Positive for you

Orange
Resembling the Icelandic poppies
That I planted within my heart
But they are just copies
Of what used to be beautiful

Like the burning impression
Left by your lips
Not as strong as my depression
But still close

Yellow
As bright as the sun
Giving me warmth on my darkest days
Yet you were done
Right as the clouds rolled in

It’s ironic how something
So fluffy
Is crushing
My inner hopefulness

Green
Accompanied with my illness
As you’re ******* that guy
I know it’s none of my business
But still

It brings a form of serenity
Perhaps because you
Finally found your identity
*******

Blue
That’s what my hair bleeds
When I rinse you off me
Identical to a field of weeds
Tangled and knotted

I feel so astronomical
Higher than the galaxies
Yet it feels anatomical
To be down here with you


Purple
Coloring in my bruises
From your thoughts
Popped fuses
I’m on overload

Like your excuses
In why you didn’t love me
So why don’t we reintroduce
Each other

So this may never happen again.
Amanda Ramsey Sep 2010
I'd like to introduce myself to you
One letter, one syllable, one word at a time
I would like to take things slow with you
Play get to know with you
Like I've never been allowed to do before

I want to capture those butterflies
And release them into skies of us
Me and that one
My Mr. Right that has paid your attention in full
That can simmer in the quite between our glances

He would never waste our time on second chances
Because we are what time well spent is

I would like to introduce myself to you
Spell me out with big doe eyes
That only you can read into
That only you would take the years to understand

And looking back
You see me for who I am

Unadorned by outside exteriors
I never feel vulnerable with you
You cloak me in the reassurance that you are here
Here in each moment  that I need you

I would like to introduce myself to you
Planting memories that we can sip on in our bad days
Locked in gazes that I don't care to escape
I can't wait to meet you, or reintroduce

I would like to introduce myself to you
Jedd Ong Apr 2015
Jay-Z sounds like he's underwater. And the showerhoses tilt shut and the bathroom door opens to reveal - well, what I thought was a sealing wound thankfully turned out to be headphone covers and my brother's obscured big toe. Trembling.

He walks as if he was the rapper himself - chest hunched, back lurching forward like that of a street cat who doesn't know he's made it. Shaky feet, wet hair, darkened eyes that hadn't been shut for days.

''For my father was black, and beautiful, and beautiful, therefore, black. There was a blackness to him that was beautiful. A blackness entirely clear and his own.'' -James Baldwin, Notes on a Native Son (paraphrased).

His legs if you roll up the pajama bottoms are filled with quilt patched mosquito bites and blacks and blues. Self-inflicted. Eyebag patches punched back into his face resurfacing in the hidden contours of his thigh. Trembling. Allow me to reintroduce myself. Trembling.

He is and he isn't. No native son of ours black but yellow covered, yellow but eyes tinged with red, and awash in shadows black and blue - he is beautiful - puffy eyed, brickfaced boombox carrying screamer of profanity and tongue tied silence all and still - he is black, and he is beautiful.

An underwater mixtape taking shape to be a broken record anthem.

— The End —