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"replied" poems
left my phone unlocked on the taxi’s back seat, won't be the last time called it a few times finally, the driver picked up he had a fare immediately after mine, and was now headed way downtown, and would call later when fate returned him nearer my office and so it came to pass, very shortly thereafter, we met on the street, he rolled down  the window and with the greatest smile of pleasure, as if he had won the lottery beaming, handed me my phone I had two $20's to cover any expense he might have incurred, neatly folded in my hand   and offered it right up, right away; but the driver repeatedly pushed my hand away as I insisted, saying: *"No sir, no no, not necessary! Allah sent me a fare that took me soon back close to you, so,   no loss of time did I suffer, so your offer is kindly unnecessary!"* to which I replied, *"exactly! Allah sent you to me so I could reward you!"* and with an equally, beaming smile I continued, *"our ride and meeting today, together was pre-ordained it was* Inshallah!" ^ something he could not dispute... or my knowledge thereof and it’s proper pronouncement, nor his amazement, to disguise!   we parted ways    each believing,    each receiving, a heavenly check plus, each, credited with a mitzvah^^ on our respective trip logs, our humanly divine balance sheets, kept by the single supreme taxi dispatcher
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Jun 20, 2018
Jun 20, 2018 at 1:33 PM UTC
inshallah my cell phone
A lover asked his beloved, Do you love yourself more than you love me? The beloved replied, I have died to myself and I live for you. I’ve disappeared from myself and my attributes. I am present only for you. I have forgotten all my learning, but from knowing you I have become a scholar. I have lost all my strength, but from your power I am able. If I love myself I love you. If I love you I love myself.
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47.4k
Do You Love Me?
My frightened friend once said to me: "I'm scared... I think I'm gay, no longer straight!" To which I replied: "I do not care, I like you for who you are, and to me you're still my mate"
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Mar 1, 2015
Mar 1, 2015 at 12:22 PM UTC
My gay friend
"Look, a star", I said He replied, "I know, it's beautiful" I was looking at the sky and he was looking at me
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Mar 7, 2015
Mar 7, 2015 at 1:24 PM UTC
Stars
What is the difference, Asked the educator, *Between being skillful, Such as a ********** And being educated, Such as a teacher?* Well, replied a prostitue, *One educates skillfully, The other skillfully educates.* Which is which? The educator responded. Depends, said the ********** On the pay and benefits.
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Apr 8, 2015
Apr 8, 2015 at 11:39 AM UTC
The ********** and the Educator
A friend of mine walked up to me and asked me: "What is a good woman?" I replied "you would know if you were a good man" He said "Stop joking I really wanna know" "There is no definite answer, but when you meet one, it will show" There are many characteristics that make a good woman, but it would take days to speak them all Since my friend brought this to mind, I thought I would list a few for y'all A woman who is proud of what she brings and won't complain over petty things A woman who is well spoken and not opposed to listening because communication is key from the beginning A woman who is wise and able to realize the pit you are in doesn't matter because she will help your rise A woman who wouldn't try to control her man but also wouldn't be a doormat And when trouble comes up, her feet won't be flat (she's ready to go) A woman who never stops believing in the man that you are and the man you can become So much confidence in you, it almost makes her seem dumb A virtuous woman who prays for you more than she prays for herself Remembering God is number one above all else A woman who tries to pay for herself before you can offer Knowing the difference between selfless and selfish is something you should prefer A woman with the power of forgiveness But don't abuse it Because a good woman is not stupid She will lose it You will lose her and have no one to blame when your heart takes the hit If you hurt a good woman, in my eyes, you aren't worth the saliva I spit The ice cream no one would lick The one that gets thrown down in hope ants would leave a picnic To pick apart your existence Use your common sense Realize what's in front of you and cherish it Woman is the title a female receives at a certain age But it takes a good man to realize a good woman is on the next page I'm not saying a good woman needs to have this quote for quote I don't think any woman does, if so, let me know I haven't met any besides my family, but I don't go down that road I'm being patient, waiting for my good woman is giving me time to grow So I can give her the best Brandon Everett Davis, the world doesn't know To not be on their level, would be a sin Let's become better men for these good women
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Dec 22, 2012
Dec 22, 2012 at 3:37 AM UTC
A Good Woman
A friend of mine walked up to me and asked me: "What is a good woman?" I replied "you would know if you were a good man" He said "Stop joking I really wanna know" "There is no definite answer, but when you meet one, it will show" There are many characteristics that make a good woman, but it would take days to speak them all Since my friend brought this to mind, I thought I would list a few for y'all A woman who is proud of what she brings and won't complain over petty things A woman who is well spoken and not opposed to listening because communication is key from the beginning A woman who is wise and able to realize the pit you are in doesn't matter because she will help your rise A woman who wouldn't try to control her man but also wouldn't be a doormat And when trouble comes up, her feet won't be flat (she's ready to go) A woman who never stops believing in the man that you are and the man you can become So much confidence in you, it almost makes her seem dumb A virtuous woman who prays for you more than she prays for herself Remembering God is number one above all else A woman who tries to pay for herself before you can offer Knowing the difference between selfless and selfish is something you should prefer A woman with the power of forgiveness But don't abuse it Because a good woman is not stupid She will lose it You will lose her and have no one to blame when your heart takes the hit If you hurt a good woman, in my eyes, you aren't worth the saliva I spit The ice cream no one would lick The one that gets thrown down in hope ants would leave a picnic To pick apart your existence Use your common sense Realize what's in front of you and cherish it Woman is the title a female receives at a certain age But it takes a good man to realize a good woman is on the next page I'm not saying a good woman needs to have this quote for quote I don't think any woman does, if so, let me know I haven't met any besides my family, but I don't go down that road I'm being patient, waiting for my good woman is giving me time to grow So I can give her the best Brandon Everett Davis, the world doesn't know To not be on their level, would be a sin Let's become better men for these good women
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40
"i'm watching you, stupid ***** Madison pointed at pyper as the girls made there way out of the dining room. "thats enough madison." Cordelia scolded. Nan followed pyper up the stairs into her bedroom. "why are you following me?" pyper asked, looking at nan in disgust. rolling her eyes and shaking her head. "you have madisons money." nan crossed her arms and smiled. "excuse me??" pyper replied as if she were offended by Nans accusation. "mhm, and you have zoeys sunglasses.., cassies ipod, and 25 dollars you stole from emilys purse. along with her art pencils." nan replied. "wow, you're A cleptomaniac." Nan laughed. "okay, how do you know all of this???" Pyper asked, her cheeks red from embarissment, and her head lowered in shame. "i'm psychic. i can read minds." nan explained. suddenly cassie walked past pypers room in search of her stolen ipod. "has anyone seen my pink ipod???" Cassie questioned, it was sitting on my bed, and now i can't find it anywhere. " she looked around hopelessly. "well then look in your room cassie. give me 5 minutes and i'll help you look." pyper shouted. "wow, you're a real piece of work arent you?" nan rolled her eyes and chuckled. "what is your angle, nan?" Pyper questioned, rolling her eyes aswell. saying names name as if she were mocking the whole idea of her. "my angle, PYPER. is this, you give everyone there **** back or i'm telling cordelia and you're out of here." Nan smerked. "you're not going to tell on me anyway?" pyper asked sadly. "no, not onless you do it again." nan sighed, "we stick together here, we're a family, we don't steele eachother down thats not what we're about." nan explained sympatheticly. "wow, thats funny because that's all my real family ever did." pyper replied with big sad puppy dog eyes. nan nodded, "i'm not here to listen to your ******** excuses or your sob stories. if saying that you've had a hard life, and never had anything given to you. and the world owes you. helps you get to sleep at night then fine, cool beans. but i'm not buying that shit. and these girls don't owe you anything. now, i expect everyone to have there **** back by the morning, or i will tell cordelia." nan sighed and rolled her eyes. "okay." pyper nodded with a wounded look upon her face. Cassie stood outside of the door, still listening. her eyebrows raised in anger. and then made her way up the stairs and into madisons room. "what are you doing here pipsquick. im NOT in the mood." Madison sobbed. "oh i think you're in the mood for this, i know who took your money." Cassie smiled.
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Jan 29, 2015
Jan 29, 2015 at 3:40 PM UTC
america horror story:coven fan fic part 5
"i'm watching you, stupid ***** Madison pointed at pyper as the girls made there way out of the dining room. "thats enough madison." Cordelia scolded. Nan followed pyper up the stairs into her bedroom. "why are you following me?" pyper asked, looking at nan in disgust. rolling her eyes and shaking her head. "you have madisons money." nan crossed her arms and smiled. "excuse me??" pyper replied as if she were offended by Nans accusation. "mhm, and you have zoeys sunglasses.., cassies ipod, and 25 dollars you stole from emilys purse. along with her art pencils." nan replied. "wow, you're A cleptomaniac." Nan laughed. "okay, how do you know all of this???" Pyper asked, her cheeks red from embarissment, and her head lowered in shame. "i'm psychic. i can read minds." nan explained. suddenly cassie walked past pypers room in search of her stolen ipod. "has anyone seen my pink ipod???" Cassie questioned, it was sitting on my bed, and now i can't find it anywhere. " she looked around hopelessly. "well then look in your room cassie. give me 5 minutes and i'll help you look." pyper shouted. "wow, you're a real piece of work arent you?" nan rolled her eyes and chuckled. "what is your angle, nan?" Pyper questioned, rolling her eyes aswell. saying names name as if she were mocking the whole idea of her. "my angle, PYPER. is this, you give everyone there **** back or i'm telling cordelia and you're out of here." Nan smerked. "you're not going to tell on me anyway?" pyper asked sadly. "no, not onless you do it again." nan sighed, "we stick together here, we're a family, we don't steele eachother down thats not what we're about." nan explained sympatheticly. "wow, thats funny because that's all my real family ever did." pyper replied with big sad puppy dog eyes. nan nodded, "i'm not here to listen to your ******** excuses or your sob stories. if saying that you've had a hard life, and never had anything given to you. and the world owes you. helps you get to sleep at night then fine, cool beans. but i'm not buying that shit. and these girls don't owe you anything. now, i expect everyone to have there **** back by the morning, or i will tell cordelia." nan sighed and rolled her eyes. "okay." pyper nodded with a wounded look upon her face. Cassie stood outside of the door, still listening. her eyebrows raised in anger. and then made her way up the stairs and into madisons room. "what are you doing here pipsquick. im NOT in the mood." Madison sobbed. "oh i think you're in the mood for this, i know who took your money." Cassie smiled.
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1
Sitting side by side he asks in a whispered voice, "Whats the first thing you notice on a person" I replied, "their eyes". After a moments pause he asks me why I explain that no matter what color or shade An eye will tell you how deep there secrets go, How much they love Or how sad their heart is Eyes will tell you how passionate a person is Or how dark the deepest pits of them are. When i look at you, i see all the good things, and the not so good things. Everyone thinks the mouth spills secrets and lies But i promise you, its all in the eyes.
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Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 9:29 PM UTC
The Eyes
Harry Heironymous Huffenhoffer was leading a lonely life working nights at the fukfoorfiffenfimmer factory where he was in charge of loading crates full of fukfoorfiffenfimmers, onto cargo cars destined for the city of Cincinnati. There was such a huge demand for fukfoorfiffenfimmers in the city of Cincinnati, poor Harry Heironymous Huffenhoffer worked his hunnyhush to the bone. On one of his few holiday weekends, Harry Heironymous Huffenhoffer went to a hair salon for a trim. Here he was attended by a hairdresser named, Henrietta Huckhellopolis. Harry Heironymous Huffenhoffer instantly fell for the husky-voiced hairdresser. Gaining enough gumption and gallasisgoppingguff needed to bypass beating around the bush of courteous courtship, Harry Heironymous Huffenhoffer asked Henrietta Huckhellopolis if she wanted to leerlumpaloomp later that evening. "I would love to leerlumpaloomp later this evening," she replied, batting her long lashes lustily. And how those two leerlumpaloomped! They leerlumpaloomped long through the night. They leerlumpaloomped so loudly, the neighbours ended up sticking stuffystoils into their sensilivities, in hopes of drowning out the noise. Nine months later, the lovers were blessed with a litter of lullaloonillies—wot with the loud leerlumpaloomping and all. But, of the seven lullaloonillies, four of them had two lumpalots instead of one. Bolstering himself against drowning in despair at the prospect of having sired freak lullaloonillies, Harry Heironymous Huffenhoffer helped design fukfoorfiffenfimmers especially meant for lullaloonillies who have two lumpalots instead of one. As the double-lumpalot fukfoorfiffenfimmers were Harry Heironymous Huffenhoffer's idea, the owner of the fukfoorfiffenfimmer factory gave Harry Heironymous Huffenhoffer a forty percent cut of the royalties. *Fortunately some fairy tales come with a happy ending, because the city of Cincinnati was hit with a record number of lullaloonillies born with two lumpalots instead of just the one. The high sales of double-lumpalot fukfoorfiffenfimmers, enabled Harry Heironymous Huffenhoffer and Henrietta Huckhellopolis to quit their jobs and buy into the fukfoorfiffenfimmer factory. Yes, after getting married, Harry Heironymous and Henrietta Huckhellopolis-Huffenhoffer lived happily hever hafter. So did the lullaloonillies.... including those with two lumpalots instead of one.*
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Sep 6, 2011
Sep 6, 2011 at 1:16 PM UTC
When Harry Heironymous Huffenhoffer Met Henrietta Huckhellopolis
Harry Heironymous Huffenhoffer was leading a lonely life working nights at the fukfoorfiffenfimmer factory where he was in charge of loading crates full of fukfoorfiffenfimmers, onto cargo cars destined for the city of Cincinnati. There was such a huge demand for fukfoorfiffenfimmers in the city of Cincinnati, poor Harry Heironymous Huffenhoffer worked his hunnyhush to the bone. On one of his few holiday weekends, Harry Heironymous Huffenhoffer went to a hair salon for a trim. Here he was attended by a hairdresser named, Henrietta Huckhellopolis. Harry Heironymous Huffenhoffer instantly fell for the husky-voiced hairdresser. Gaining enough gumption and gallasisgoppingguff needed to bypass beating around the bush of courteous courtship, Harry Heironymous Huffenhoffer asked Henrietta Huckhellopolis if she wanted to leerlumpaloomp later that evening. "I would love to leerlumpaloomp later this evening," she replied, batting her long lashes lustily. And how those two leerlumpaloomped! They leerlumpaloomped long through the night. They leerlumpaloomped so loudly, the neighbours ended up sticking stuffystoils into their sensilivities, in hopes of drowning out the noise. Nine months later, the lovers were blessed with a litter of lullaloonillies—wot with the loud leerlumpaloomping and all. But, of the seven lullaloonillies, four of them had two lumpalots instead of one. Bolstering himself against drowning in despair at the prospect of having sired freak lullaloonillies, Harry Heironymous Huffenhoffer helped design fukfoorfiffenfimmers especially meant for lullaloonillies who have two lumpalots instead of one. As the double-lumpalot fukfoorfiffenfimmers were Harry Heironymous Huffenhoffer's idea, the owner of the fukfoorfiffenfimmer factory gave Harry Heironymous Huffenhoffer a forty percent cut of the royalties. *Fortunately some fairy tales come with a happy ending, because the city of Cincinnati was hit with a record number of lullaloonillies born with two lumpalots instead of just the one. The high sales of double-lumpalot fukfoorfiffenfimmers, enabled Harry Heironymous Huffenhoffer and Henrietta Huckhellopolis to quit their jobs and buy into the fukfoorfiffenfimmer factory. Yes, after getting married, Harry Heironymous and Henrietta Huckhellopolis-Huffenhoffer lived happily hever hafter. So did the lullaloonillies.... including those with two lumpalots instead of one.*
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37
have you ever believed in something so blindly so genuinely that the moment you realize it isn't true, something inside you changes forever? i wanna tell you a story, see seldom do i ever go swimming in drinks deep enough to drown in but when i do i speak in tongues about things that none of my memories are allowed to talk about like that christmas at the isthmus where my girlfriend plucked a conch shell whiter than gods teeth out of the sand held it to her ear and stopped time that day she was a shade of blue the could've made the ocean sick see, she loved to play jokes when she held the sea shell to her ear she gasped, called my name and said "i want you to hear this" i said "yeah, right, everybody knows it's just the same old sea" she replied "no. not this one. this one is special. listen. theres music in this one" she handed me the shell like a promise she couldn't keep and i held it to my ear with all the potential of seeing shore after being stranded at sea for years only to hear a tired dirge of silence spill from its emptiness i guess she didn't know how desperately i wanted to hear it too because ever since something inside me snapped now sand pours out of every post card i open i hear seagulls in telephone static sometimes i have dreams where i bury my hands in every beach i've ever been on and exhume this graveyard of noise every time i try to sleep i spit up fishhooks and i guess i'm obsessed but maybe if i hold my ear to enough vacant things then i could have back the time stolen from me since it happened maybe they would get it if they knew what i wanted when i blow out birthday candles maybe they'll find me face down in a wishing well i watch eternal sunshine of the spotless mind every day pretending i can forget too because this sea sickness has followed me for years because yesterday i walked into a music shop and all the pianos broke but the only thing i can think to say is *do you know how bad a memory has to be that you fantasize about forgetting it?*
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Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 1:03 PM UTC
measure
have you ever believed in something so blindly so genuinely that the moment you realize it isn't true, something inside you changes forever? i wanna tell you a story, see seldom do i ever go swimming in drinks deep enough to drown in but when i do i speak in tongues about things that none of my memories are allowed to talk about like that christmas at the isthmus where my girlfriend plucked a conch shell whiter than gods teeth out of the sand held it to her ear and stopped time that day she was a shade of blue the could've made the ocean sick see, she loved to play jokes when she held the sea shell to her ear she gasped, called my name and said "i want you to hear this" i said "yeah, right, everybody knows it's just the same old sea" she replied "no. not this one. this one is special. listen. theres music in this one" she handed me the shell like a promise she couldn't keep and i held it to my ear with all the potential of seeing shore after being stranded at sea for years only to hear a tired dirge of silence spill from its emptiness i guess she didn't know how desperately i wanted to hear it too because ever since something inside me snapped now sand pours out of every post card i open i hear seagulls in telephone static sometimes i have dreams where i bury my hands in every beach i've ever been on and exhume this graveyard of noise every time i try to sleep i spit up fishhooks and i guess i'm obsessed but maybe if i hold my ear to enough vacant things then i could have back the time stolen from me since it happened maybe they would get it if they knew what i wanted when i blow out birthday candles maybe they'll find me face down in a wishing well i watch eternal sunshine of the spotless mind every day pretending i can forget too because this sea sickness has followed me for years because yesterday i walked into a music shop and all the pianos broke but the only thing i can think to say is *do you know how bad a memory has to be that you fantasize about forgetting it?*
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84
fall was in the air and it was a very dreary october day. the halls of the old victorian house had been filled with new arivals and lots of noise. "i can barely hear myself think." Madison sneered, a cigarette in her hand as she stood next to zoey and nan in the hallway. looking at the new girls with disguist. "and none of these new ******* better step on my toes. this isnt ******* hogwarts." she rolled her eyes. "hogwarts." zoey laughed, making nan laugh aswell. "if this were hogwarts, you would be draco malfoy" nan joked. "hardy har har." Madison snickered. "and you would be harry potters fat cousin because your ugly and nobody loves you." madison smiled. "well, i think it's great." zoey said cheerfully. "all of these girls would feel lost and alone and now they have somewhere to belong.". "you would say that." Madison rolled her eyes. suddenly a slightly younger girl with big green eyes and long brown hair and freckles rushed up to the three of them with a gleam in her eye. "oh my god it is you! you're madison montgomery!" the girl explained. " i love you! will you sign my back pack?" the girl turned around and Madison pulled a pink highlighter out of the side of her floral backpack. her face lit up as she wrote her name on the backpack making zoey and nan smile aswell. "thank you! thank you! thank you! you're my idol." the girl blushed. "my name is Cassie motts, i've seen all of your movies, i love you! i love you! i love you!" the girl giggled. "alright.." Madison had been taken back a step. "have a great day you little ****** she smiled, a look of confusion hung upon her face. "thank you.. you dont know how much this means to me." the girl explained cheerfully and walked away. "well ladies it looks like we're the head honchoes around this **** show." Madison sighed, still slightly smiling. "i was always the head honchoe." nan replied. "yeah, okay, right." zoey rolled her eyes and smiled at nan as the three made there way down the hall together.
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Jan 28, 2015
Jan 28, 2015 at 7:14 PM UTC
im going to write my own american horror story:coven fan fic here because i am bored.
fall was in the air and it was a very dreary october day. the halls of the old victorian house had been filled with new arivals and lots of noise. "i can barely hear myself think." Madison sneered, a cigarette in her hand as she stood next to zoey and nan in the hallway. looking at the new girls with disguist. "and none of these new ******* better step on my toes. this isnt ******* hogwarts." she rolled her eyes. "hogwarts." zoey laughed, making nan laugh aswell. "if this were hogwarts, you would be draco malfoy" nan joked. "hardy har har." Madison snickered. "and you would be harry potters fat cousin because your ugly and nobody loves you." madison smiled. "well, i think it's great." zoey said cheerfully. "all of these girls would feel lost and alone and now they have somewhere to belong.". "you would say that." Madison rolled her eyes. suddenly a slightly younger girl with big green eyes and long brown hair and freckles rushed up to the three of them with a gleam in her eye. "oh my god it is you! you're madison montgomery!" the girl explained. " i love you! will you sign my back pack?" the girl turned around and Madison pulled a pink highlighter out of the side of her floral backpack. her face lit up as she wrote her name on the backpack making zoey and nan smile aswell. "thank you! thank you! thank you! you're my idol." the girl blushed. "my name is Cassie motts, i've seen all of your movies, i love you! i love you! i love you!" the girl giggled. "alright.." Madison had been taken back a step. "have a great day you little ****** she smiled, a look of confusion hung upon her face. "thank you.. you dont know how much this means to me." the girl explained cheerfully and walked away. "well ladies it looks like we're the head honchoes around this **** show." Madison sighed, still slightly smiling. "i was always the head honchoe." nan replied. "yeah, okay, right." zoey rolled her eyes and smiled at nan as the three made there way down the hall together.
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2
In Spanish, VIVIR means To Live, the proper conjugation of which to when you say something as improper as “I live” would simply be translated to “Yo Vivo”. I live, as a Colombian-American. I live, as “You don’t look Hispanic” I live, “Woah! You and your brother look nothing alike. You’re so… white.” I live, “My mom came home once and talked about a man who simply replied with a horribly pronounced “Me gusta” when my mom said she was Hispanic.” I live, “My dad condones abusive behavior because he thinks Latina aggression is **** I live, my mom asking me “Would you rather celebrate the Sweet Sixteen or have a quinceanera party?” I live, as the white boy sitting across the room in Spanish class asking “When will I need this in real life?” I live, as the “Yes I DO have a friend with a skin complexion similar to mine, and yes, he is Hispanic.” I live, most of my friends are beautiful people of color. I live, when will you open up the tab in Google and search some Hispanic History to fill your mind instead of “Latina **** I live, the messages on the Internet saying “You’re Hispanic? I bet you’re great in bed.” I live, there are NO gender neutral nouns in Spanish I live, yes I DO love coffee I live, no it did NOT stunt my growth I live, one kiss per cheek at family meet-ups I live, “Eskimo” nose rubs I live, "if you’re hispanic, why aren’t your ears pierced?" I live, being expected to remember Spanish just because it was my first language, but growing up with an American dad made me whiter than fresh bed-sheets sold in America, made in South America, Hecha en Peru. I live, my mom breaking into tears as she is so proud that I can sing in Spanish I live, my mom used to be so embarrassed, when I replied “un poco” to her friends asking “Tu Hablas Espanol?” I live, "if you’re Hispanic, is your mom an Alien?" I live, "But your dad looks so white!" I live, being subject to racism hidden in a joke, hidden in a remark about how pale I am, hidden behind a judgmental look, hidden behind a scoff, a laugh, a pity shrug, a fetishized assumption. I live the bulletproof clothing and horrible crimes I am warned about when I say I wanna go to Colombia I wanna go to my mom’s home. I live, as a Colombian-American. I live. Yo vivo.
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Dec 28, 2015
Dec 28, 2015 at 8:19 PM UTC
I live, Yo Vivo
In Spanish, VIVIR means To Live, the proper conjugation of which to when you say something as improper as “I live” would simply be translated to “Yo Vivo”. I live, as a Colombian-American. I live, as “You don’t look Hispanic” I live, “Woah! You and your brother look nothing alike. You’re so… white.” I live, “My mom came home once and talked about a man who simply replied with a horribly pronounced “Me gusta” when my mom said she was Hispanic.” I live, “My dad condones abusive behavior because he thinks Latina aggression is **** I live, my mom asking me “Would you rather celebrate the Sweet Sixteen or have a quinceanera party?” I live, as the white boy sitting across the room in Spanish class asking “When will I need this in real life?” I live, as the “Yes I DO have a friend with a skin complexion similar to mine, and yes, he is Hispanic.” I live, most of my friends are beautiful people of color. I live, when will you open up the tab in Google and search some Hispanic History to fill your mind instead of “Latina **** I live, the messages on the Internet saying “You’re Hispanic? I bet you’re great in bed.” I live, there are NO gender neutral nouns in Spanish I live, yes I DO love coffee I live, no it did NOT stunt my growth I live, one kiss per cheek at family meet-ups I live, “Eskimo” nose rubs I live, "if you’re hispanic, why aren’t your ears pierced?" I live, being expected to remember Spanish just because it was my first language, but growing up with an American dad made me whiter than fresh bed-sheets sold in America, made in South America, Hecha en Peru. I live, my mom breaking into tears as she is so proud that I can sing in Spanish I live, my mom used to be so embarrassed, when I replied “un poco” to her friends asking “Tu Hablas Espanol?” I live, "if you’re Hispanic, is your mom an Alien?" I live, "But your dad looks so white!" I live, being subject to racism hidden in a joke, hidden in a remark about how pale I am, hidden behind a judgmental look, hidden behind a scoff, a laugh, a pity shrug, a fetishized assumption. I live the bulletproof clothing and horrible crimes I am warned about when I say I wanna go to Colombia I wanna go to my mom’s home. I live, as a Colombian-American. I live. Yo vivo.
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Papers, Papers, Papers Whiter than aching teeth, Whiter than whites of tilted eyes, Whiter than funeral wreaths. My hands shake as I write this, Filed away myths; Stolen lined sheets  My index finger chained by red tapes, words mix and ground breaks, I'm the one the world forsakes Yellow maize, littered leaves, all twisted into black ink and clean sharp white paper blades. -------"I am in a bit of daze," I tell myself, "look at those flaccid bits; there lay the logs who use to be the jungle of my childhood dreams." ------"Don't be amazed," I replied, "these leafless branches and twigs are for  your Papier-Mâché degrees." So I listen to my second self once, the more logical cynical satirical one, Treading on the plot of their paper works, playing crosswords as anxiety uncork my thoughts turn to the bankable orcs, just as my career forks Maybe I should be like my mother, Marking numbers on a deck of cards-- waltzing with Chance. Maybe I should be like my father, Toiling for some rich men's grandson-- seething in Trance. Maybe I should be like the Other, Going along with the system-- thanking myself beneath a cap, a diploma, a piece of paper. I wore these books like bank notes tuxedoes, I was promised the world by the credits I borrowed. Must I go along with the mechanism of their game, or should I rise up against all odds Opposing, debating, rebelling against this bundle, this trouble, funneling me into no-tomorrows Or must I write it all down, in my prayers against their lawyers, who need no reminds Or must I shred, smear, and tear the papers with my own bare hands But what will I ever be to them, friends? A papercut, perhaps.
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Aug 19, 2018
Aug 19, 2018 at 9:33 PM UTC
Papercuts
Papers, Papers, Papers Whiter than aching teeth, Whiter than whites of tilted eyes, Whiter than funeral wreaths. My hands shake as I write this, Filed away myths; Stolen lined sheets  My index finger chained by red tapes, words mix and ground breaks, I'm the one the world forsakes Yellow maize, littered leaves, all twisted into black ink and clean sharp white paper blades. -------"I am in a bit of daze," I tell myself, "look at those flaccid bits; there lay the logs who use to be the jungle of my childhood dreams." ------"Don't be amazed," I replied, "these leafless branches and twigs are for  your Papier-Mâché degrees." So I listen to my second self once, the more logical cynical satirical one, Treading on the plot of their paper works, playing crosswords as anxiety uncork my thoughts turn to the bankable orcs, just as my career forks Maybe I should be like my mother, Marking numbers on a deck of cards-- waltzing with Chance. Maybe I should be like my father, Toiling for some rich men's grandson-- seething in Trance. Maybe I should be like the Other, Going along with the system-- thanking myself beneath a cap, a diploma, a piece of paper. I wore these books like bank notes tuxedoes, I was promised the world by the credits I borrowed. Must I go along with the mechanism of their game, or should I rise up against all odds Opposing, debating, rebelling against this bundle, this trouble, funneling me into no-tomorrows Or must I write it all down, in my prayers against their lawyers, who need no reminds Or must I shred, smear, and tear the papers with my own bare hands But what will I ever be to them, friends? A papercut, perhaps.
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40
You sat on the other end of the table Glistening, shining, and taunting me Rosy cheeks with spurts of Yellow and Green Silently teasing A juicy, little Apple. Hopefully no one would see me, no one would pay any attention As I grabbed the treat and the knife And began to dangerously peel. I knew I was doing it wrong My hands shaking while my cheeks began to flush Embarrassed by my ignorant inadequacy. Are you left-handed? she asked from my left. Humiliation filled the corners of my eyes, wet and distraught. No, I mumbled. My cheeks reflecting Mose's Red Sea. I was beginning to drown. Your thumb needs to move, You make me nervous, and she sounded nervous indeed. Put it down here. Help yourself control it. Guide it. Everyone was staring now, the whole table awed My ignorance showing, like a medallion at my chest My shameful Apple as pathetic proof. You're doing it wrong. Non così. Basta, faccio io. Let me do it. You're about to graduate, and you can't peel an apple. I began choking, drowning in tears of Humiliation. No, let her do it the small Voice on my left said. She is finding her way. Let me watch her. I finished peeling the Apple Suffocating my tears as I ate. You remind me of Daisy, she said soon after From The Great Gatsby. I choked and laughed, more ashamed than ever. I'm not sure that is a compliment. I could barely muster a mumble. She couldn't do anything by herself. She looked at me, gentle and forgiving. I think it is, she replied Wistful and Wise. Daisy was vital to the story, you know. And I believe that given the chance, she could have done anything that she wanted On her own.
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May 5, 2014
May 5, 2014 at 6:27 PM UTC
growing up Daisy
You sat on the other end of the table Glistening, shining, and taunting me Rosy cheeks with spurts of Yellow and Green Silently teasing A juicy, little Apple. Hopefully no one would see me, no one would pay any attention As I grabbed the treat and the knife And began to dangerously peel. I knew I was doing it wrong My hands shaking while my cheeks began to flush Embarrassed by my ignorant inadequacy. Are you left-handed? she asked from my left. Humiliation filled the corners of my eyes, wet and distraught. No, I mumbled. My cheeks reflecting Mose's Red Sea. I was beginning to drown. Your thumb needs to move, You make me nervous, and she sounded nervous indeed. Put it down here. Help yourself control it. Guide it. Everyone was staring now, the whole table awed My ignorance showing, like a medallion at my chest My shameful Apple as pathetic proof. You're doing it wrong. Non così. Basta, faccio io. Let me do it. You're about to graduate, and you can't peel an apple. I began choking, drowning in tears of Humiliation. No, let her do it the small Voice on my left said. She is finding her way. Let me watch her. I finished peeling the Apple Suffocating my tears as I ate. You remind me of Daisy, she said soon after From The Great Gatsby. I choked and laughed, more ashamed than ever. I'm not sure that is a compliment. I could barely muster a mumble. She couldn't do anything by herself. She looked at me, gentle and forgiving. I think it is, she replied Wistful and Wise. Daisy was vital to the story, you know. And I believe that given the chance, she could have done anything that she wanted On her own.
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42
The Frog was doing his thing Hopping, Croaking, Splashing, In to any water that he could see, He happened upon This Jigsaw of black and white Morning sir, he croaked The Cow looked down, "MOOOOO" Pardon I didn't quite get that, "MOOOOVE" Your on the tastiest grass Below your webbed feet, "Sorry sir," Didn't wish to stomp on your Lunch with my feet, So he hoped along, as Frogs do Then turned around, Hopped his best, speed built up Leaping with all his might, Over the Cow, Then gracefully on to his feet, "Cow turned" Whhhat are you doing little thing, As the Frog Replied, I was seeing if I could Jump over you Why? Would you do such a thing, Well mum told me A Cow jumped over the moon, Yes we do Replied Cow Famously Are we for doing this, Feat never seen. "Frog replied" Riibit, well I just jumped over you So now I an the best jumper it seems, Confused, *Thinking, Laughing, Out loud with a MMOOooo You aren't a better jumper than me, We will see little Frog said With that he did a Bounce, Hop, Jumped, Over the Cow once again it seemed, Now it is your turn As Cow looked on nervously So he hooved his feet 1, 2, 3, With that he tried "FAILED" Lost his balance, And in to another's Cow pat His face did meet. Now the cow was not only Black & White But now he was Covered, & Smelled, Like poo, embarrassed Was he The Frog did laugh Ribit, Ribit, Ribit, Loud and clear, Cow looked at frog, Now Cow do you see, Never believe what you hear, Until you see it with your own eyes, This is what my mother read to me, And with that, Frog bounced off happily.
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Sep 11, 2014
Sep 11, 2014 at 7:19 AM UTC
The Cow And The Frog
The Frog was doing his thing Hopping, Croaking, Splashing, In to any water that he could see, He happened upon This Jigsaw of black and white Morning sir, he croaked The Cow looked down, "MOOOOO" Pardon I didn't quite get that, "MOOOOVE" Your on the tastiest grass Below your webbed feet, "Sorry sir," Didn't wish to stomp on your Lunch with my feet, So he hoped along, as Frogs do Then turned around, Hopped his best, speed built up Leaping with all his might, Over the Cow, Then gracefully on to his feet, "Cow turned" Whhhat are you doing little thing, As the Frog Replied, I was seeing if I could Jump over you Why? Would you do such a thing, Well mum told me A Cow jumped over the moon, Yes we do Replied Cow Famously Are we for doing this, Feat never seen. "Frog replied" Riibit, well I just jumped over you So now I an the best jumper it seems, Confused, *Thinking, Laughing, Out loud with a MMOOooo You aren't a better jumper than me, We will see little Frog said With that he did a Bounce, Hop, Jumped, Over the Cow once again it seemed, Now it is your turn As Cow looked on nervously So he hooved his feet 1, 2, 3, With that he tried "FAILED" Lost his balance, And in to another's Cow pat His face did meet. Now the cow was not only Black & White But now he was Covered, & Smelled, Like poo, embarrassed Was he The Frog did laugh Ribit, Ribit, Ribit, Loud and clear, Cow looked at frog, Now Cow do you see, Never believe what you hear, Until you see it with your own eyes, This is what my mother read to me, And with that, Frog bounced off happily.
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80
he’s telling me about the girl at school he can’t get out of his head, and how he feels like it’s always this chain of "i don’t want all these people that want me," (i winced) “and the one person i want doesn’t want me in the same way.” (i inhaled sharply) i told him he’s overthinking it, and when he asked, “how do you not?” (i forgot to breathe) my eyes got watery, but i blinked quickly before they could settle (i exhaled) and replied, “i'll let you know.”
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Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 2:59 PM UTC
how to not care
Deep in the forests the tiger was sleeping A beautifull deer was passing near him Her scent woke him He rose fearcefully excited about his meal He saw it and ran after the deer Him chasing She escaping They arrived to the edge of the mountain The deer stopped full of fear turned and looked straight into the tigers teeth The tiger knew he had her He approached slowly and asked her "Why did you escape its been days i havent ate" "Please dont eat me she said I never did anything to deserve that" The wise tiger replied "Thats the way the world goes around" He prepared himself for his prey The dear sudenely jumped from the edge choosing to die The tiger angry walked away and realised That the beautifull deer died with pride Words Of Harfouchism
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Aug 29, 2014
Aug 29, 2014 at 1:29 PM UTC
The Tiger & The Deer
*I want to be politically correct   But the husband spoke and said Why baby you said what you said   She replied because you are using your mouth instead of your hands If you know what I mean Start to clean .. Do the carpet Do the bathroom .. Good man .. You are my hero Nice ... how did u do that fast !! Bravo.. Oh baby .. You are ****
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Oct 25, 2014
Oct 25, 2014 at 1:59 AM UTC
**** Man
You have nice teeth he said Yeah, I replied. I've got these thoughts in my head that I never get sick, that I'm big and strong and that my life will be long. Yeah, you know just what to do. You've got the wolf in you. Your friend is different. He's not the same, kind of meek and tame... And I've seen the trolls, some that are big. Looked at their feet, tried to touch 'em and I almost did. But you know many things and smart are you too. You've got the wolf in you.
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Sep 8, 2014
Sep 8, 2014 at 12:15 AM UTC
The wolf in you
Ove As love remove the glove from my eyes like dark See's the light In the journey of disprove by true love So as fox glove can not hold a ladylove from the light in mourning love over me In a selflove state I began approve my love with reprove pains in my eyes, I switch. Oh your love is sad ,she said "badlove is not mad ,"he replied" So ,farfad people had no love by their dad JUST to be grad that my hands is on a footpad or a lush No love on ove.
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Dec 31, 2017
Dec 31, 2017 at 4:48 AM UTC
OVE
Hermione taught me, Never dumb down. Prim whispered, It's Okay to fall down. Ginny smiled, Don't stop loving, He'll come around. Katniss screamed, Seize the fire. The doctor whispered, Rose Tyler- Haymitch scorned, The people need to be raised! Snape replied, Always. Okay, so we conflict. Our thoughts fight. But whichever fandom we follow, As a fangirl, we unite.
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Dec 14, 2014
Dec 14, 2014 at 9:50 AM UTC
Fandoms
the girls had been chattering and laughing in the dining room when suddenly nan, zoey, and madison charged in the room. making everyone stop and look at them. "Alright ******* Madison stood with her arms crossed and an enraged look in her dark brown eyes. "who the **** stole my money???" she questioned. the girls just sat there and looked at her quietly. "okay, none of you broke *** hos want to fess up? you're ballsy enough to take my **** but you're not ballsy enough to stand up to me? i see" Madison shouted. sadness and hostility in her eyes and voice. "who took Madisons money? i wanna know right now!" Cassie stood up in anger. quickly rushing to Madisons aid. Madison nudged her alittle and rolled her eyes. Cassie folded her arms, mimicking exactly what Madison had been doing. "BROKE *** HOESSSS!" Cassie screamed, pointing at all the girls. Pyper rolled her big blue eyes and flipped her long crimson red hair laughing, "nobody stole your money you idiot, you probably just misplaced it." she laughed, fearlessly looking madison straight in the eyes. which made nan look at pyper very suspiciously as she read her mind. "hold my earrings please." Madison began to put her hair up in a bun. "what is going on in here?" Cordelia stormed in the room with her arms folded. "put your shoes on Madison." Cordelia looked at Madison in confusion. "nothing, Madisons spazing out because she thinks that someone took her money. and now she's getting all 'ghetto' and bent out of shape about it. taking her payless heels off like she's actually going to do something." pyper rolled her eyes and joked, making the rest of the girls laugh aswell. "payless? i only wear chanel." Madison flipped her hair. Nan looked Pyper in the eyes suspiciously, shaking her head from side to side. "i'm going to say this once and once only." cordelia shouted. "i will not have any fighting or steeling in this house. and if anyone is caught fighting or steeling, you will be expelled. it's a big bad world out there girls, up until now you've all lived very sheltered lives and i'd hate to send you out in it to fend for yourselves." Cordelia sighed. pyper got a very sad look in her eyes. "sheltered" she snickered, "right." Nan looked at pyper sadly, still reading her mind. "what are you looking at?" Pyper shouted at nan viciously. "i'm not sure yet." Nan replied curiously.
0
Jan 29, 2015
Jan 29, 2015 at 1:14 PM UTC
coven fan fic part 4
the girls had been chattering and laughing in the dining room when suddenly nan, zoey, and madison charged in the room. making everyone stop and look at them. "Alright ******* Madison stood with her arms crossed and an enraged look in her dark brown eyes. "who the **** stole my money???" she questioned. the girls just sat there and looked at her quietly. "okay, none of you broke *** hos want to fess up? you're ballsy enough to take my **** but you're not ballsy enough to stand up to me? i see" Madison shouted. sadness and hostility in her eyes and voice. "who took Madisons money? i wanna know right now!" Cassie stood up in anger. quickly rushing to Madisons aid. Madison nudged her alittle and rolled her eyes. Cassie folded her arms, mimicking exactly what Madison had been doing. "BROKE *** HOESSSS!" Cassie screamed, pointing at all the girls. Pyper rolled her big blue eyes and flipped her long crimson red hair laughing, "nobody stole your money you idiot, you probably just misplaced it." she laughed, fearlessly looking madison straight in the eyes. which made nan look at pyper very suspiciously as she read her mind. "hold my earrings please." Madison began to put her hair up in a bun. "what is going on in here?" Cordelia stormed in the room with her arms folded. "put your shoes on Madison." Cordelia looked at Madison in confusion. "nothing, Madisons spazing out because she thinks that someone took her money. and now she's getting all 'ghetto' and bent out of shape about it. taking her payless heels off like she's actually going to do something." pyper rolled her eyes and joked, making the rest of the girls laugh aswell. "payless? i only wear chanel." Madison flipped her hair. Nan looked Pyper in the eyes suspiciously, shaking her head from side to side. "i'm going to say this once and once only." cordelia shouted. "i will not have any fighting or steeling in this house. and if anyone is caught fighting or steeling, you will be expelled. it's a big bad world out there girls, up until now you've all lived very sheltered lives and i'd hate to send you out in it to fend for yourselves." Cordelia sighed. pyper got a very sad look in her eyes. "sheltered" she snickered, "right." Nan looked at pyper sadly, still reading her mind. "what are you looking at?" Pyper shouted at nan viciously. "i'm not sure yet." Nan replied curiously.
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5
so I brought my writer wife (prominently pregnant) to the hospital and on her bed, she screamed: *"weren't" "hasn't" "couldn't" "shan't" "aint" "hadn't" "you're" "isn't" "aren't" "didn't" "wasn't" "who's?" "what's?" "he's" "she's"* The doctors were confounded and they turned to me and they said: "What the hell is she doing?" And I replied with double speed and a violent sense of urgency: *"Don't you know? She's having contractions - she's a writer"*
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Oct 1, 2014
Oct 1, 2014 at 1:51 AM UTC
pregnant writer about to give birth