"requesting" poems
Bustling activity,
Frenzied brief energy,
Noisy beepers beeping,
Doctors, nurses, calling,
How are you?
How did your weekend go?
Echoes of friends and beaus.
Friendly voices chatter,
plans for weekend matters.
How are you?
Calm Code Reds cut the air,
urgent, requesting care.
Elevators dinging,
Loved ones heard exclaiming,
How are you?
Not given privacy,
Stripped of their dignity.
Phantom guests, masks they wear,
nurses ask, no one cares,
How are you?
Jul 14, 2015
Jul 14, 2015 at 7:31 PM UTC
Good men exist.
And women must accept this.
Those that chasing the guys already hooked up.
Only telling upon themselves that they can't be trusted.
Good men, are in the world.
And only requesting the love of a certain girl.
One, who knows love.
One, that's willing to accept love.
The men that claims to be.
But trying to get with more then one.
Doesn't fall into this category.
Sill, I know good men exist.
Because I'm one of them.
I'm not intimidated by the men that has women chasing them.
Cause, in life.
We all know many fools.
Where some ladies love being treated like a passionate tool.
But then , there are the good men.
Who loves deep?
Who loves hard?
Who's willing to make one woman the subject of his heart?
By his action.
He becomes known.
With a good woman waiting for him.
He's constantly can't wait to get home.
Feb 23, 2013
Feb 23, 2013 at 12:37 AM UTC
resuming vogon poetry
altering website logos
pretending everyone cares
playing "east hastings"
asphyxiating well-nigh denouement
depicting twitter status
obfuscating coincident deletions
translating from Sḵwx̱wú7mesh
assuring Sḵwx̱wú7mesh exists
painting skwiḵw's mother?
decrying micropolitical maelstrom
imbibing fireball fountain
inundating lexical foofaraw
crafting poetic wonders
desiring other mediums
remaining practically invisible
ending internet-only depression
drafting noetic blunders
requesting astute clique
blazing perilous trail
aging ominous grisaille
depicting kmart realism
seeking darker groups
increasing pre-weekend laughter
appropriating communist symbols
making lone chuckle
offending worldwide communists
colonizing hello poetry
colonizing parallel universe
relaxing e-migration policies
пить чистую водку
photographing abduction scene
¿losing consistent format?
increasing bluebird insignia
avoiding frivolous legalities
striking astraphobic comments
assuming near-universal automation
lowering latent inhibition
traversing oneiric plane
laxwadding afebrile loodies
wallscaping pitchsourced chthonicities
closing one-star conveniences
sharing alien-looking alphabet
writing system downtimes
Sep 13, 2015
Sep 13, 2015 at 7:42 PM UTC
Change, the word which makes us new
Rarely fond of me or you
Of all the variance
Soon to come into view
Some will greatly challenge you
Infinite possibility lies in wait
Never straying
Greatness awaits
Beyond oceans and walls
Obstructing our view
Resides a world
Daring and new
Endless unknowns beckon
Requesting more than has ever before
Something large and yet untoward
(Precarious(Life(and(Migration in(the(Age(of(Globalization
Nov 2, 2014
Nov 2, 2014 at 2:09 PM UTC
1.I love my scars, they tell stories of survival, give life to my soul, remind me I am here for a reason, they tell me everything other people let me forget
2.I love my curves, each mountain and valley residing on my sides take pains to protrude and remind me I am soft, delicate, I deserve to be handled with care, I am a woman.
3.I love my taste buds. So what if a steak has 3 million more calories than skinny girl’s bite of lettuce. I am going to eat it anyways and I will be proud, and yes, I will moan, because why, my self worth is not contingent on my jean size
4.I love my laugh. There’s something liberating about your belly shaking until it hurts, your body exploding with joy, giving another human being pleasure with just the touch of your voice.
5.I love that I’m beautiful, something you can’t touch, my glamour goes beyond my blemished skin. I am more than the curves surrounding my center, I am **** I am brave; I am smart. I am fearless wrapped up into 5 feet of glee. You. Cannot. Touch. Me,
6.I love that I’m honest. There’s something refreshing in saying, **** off, you weren’t good for me anyways
7.I love that I’m faithful. Faithful to myself, my dreams, my ambitions. I am more than a man’s lover, I will live my life worthy to the calling I have received, regardless of what price you have placed on me
8.I love that I believe, trust in first loves, don’t doubt passion; it was sincere in the moment, but as that moment collapsed, outstayed its welcome, I believed I was more, and I will be ok, and one day, 10 years down the line, that same moment will come tapping on my door, requesting to visit an old friend
9.I guess in all I love myself, each and every blemish and bruise, every scar I’ve been given. I was not created for your pleasure, but for His glory, I only require myself to wear that badge proudly
10.I love that I am who I am. loud, flamboyant, I am not afraid to speak my mind, which is why, I’m standing here, calling you to action. Take a chance: love yourself.
Dec 30, 2014
Dec 30, 2014 at 9:12 AM UTC
"love is a losing game", but for so long
i never understood that song, until,
i became a piece that you discarded,
left scorned and broken-hearted. it was
unbeknownst to me, but you knew exactly
how to maneuver your poison into my veins
and you made your home in my bones
without requesting my permission, having no intentions
of remaining any longer than your affections,
or your hands, could stand to stay in one place.
i've heard that love, is a losing hand,
and i imagine its partner, dry & cracked -
aching, reaching, grasping, empty -
desperately seeking to be filled with any kind
of warmth or wholeness, only to be met,
instead, by astounding disappointment
that reverberates and permeates unapologetically
beneath the surface of weathered skin,
similar to that which covered your back, as we laid
in the trunk of your station wagon in the mid-december darkness.
love is designed as a fate resigned,
but i knew not what my future held.
i did not know that it was possible, for
such a tangible pain to exist inside my ribcage,
but i swear you pretended not to hear my heart shatter
from all those miles and miles and miles away.
so i envisioned the oceans inside of your irises fading to gray,
and i forced myself to ignore the lack of air in my lungs,
as i spat out, "it's fine." promising myself i'd never call you again.
unbeknownst to you, you'd just taught me how to play the game.
- m.f
Nov 3, 2013
Nov 3, 2013 at 5:23 PM UTC
Defying the consensus of complacency,
And the enantiomorphic political practicality,
Candidates embrace their vacillating indexicality.
Spouting thrift store self reliance sapientiality,
Telling lores of cultural compatibility.
Hope filled promises of economic suitability,
Aligned with institutional feasibility.
Packaged in over-inclusive catchall empty signifiers
Strewn across all media screens, communal utilitarian plan flyers.
Requesting no need for responsiveness,
For a vote no longer dictates precedence,
In the age of social media endemic presence relevance.
PFL
Jul 3, 2016
Jul 3, 2016 at 3:40 AM UTC
Friday,
you smiled at me,
as I made my way out of the wreckage
Your smile was all I noticed,
set in your soft face,
teeth brighter than energy-savers
Now I know why you still smoke
And now it seems,
every man clad in black or grey,
a trench coat that buttons up to the neck,
is you..
You are an effigy,
of every man who masqueraded under the guise,
of potential lover
Who fumbled for their phones,
requesting mobile numbers,
Whose sallow hands have caressed me,
unwanted
But their teeth were unseen
Yours are a badge,
you proudly show off,
in all those smiles,
you give like gifts to me
But I can not keep them,
because they belong to the girl,
whose swollen lips you kissed,
not long ago
There is always another,
who expects your smile,
and knows by heart,
The number of teeth you keep
Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 4:10 PM UTC
I think of my favorite food everyday
No, I think I want to have it every moment
I am always hungry
I am craving too much of it
But I cannot always have it
I always want to see my favorite place
That beach, its shore
I want to swim in its blue water
I want to play in its sand
I am wanting to be there always
But I can't be there whenever I want
I always want to hear my favorite song
But the radio doesn't always play it
I always wait for it to be played
On different radio stations
But it seems I am the only one requesting for it
You would say unlucky I am
But you're wrong
I am so lucky
For I have what I want when I really need it
Not when I just want it
I know I just need to adjust
How to control this craving.
Mar 2, 2015
Mar 2, 2015 at 10:15 PM UTC
Florrie stands at the garden gate,
How much longer must she wait?
The Postman was due ages ago
What will he bring today for Flo
Junk mail or a pile of bills
Or a letter from her daughter Jill
Maybe a seed catalogue
Or a letter requesting she sponsor a dog
An offer of a new bank card
Or book-club offers of works by the Bard
Or a parcel from her sister Sally
Now living in the Rhonda Valley
A letter about changing her energy supplier
They promise her a cheaper deal
Then the bills are higher
A spring catalogue from Ann Summers
Or a free sheet advertising plumbers
Oh postman, what is keeping you?
Florrie has better things to do
Than wait and wait and wait and wait
Shivering at the garden gate
Jan 28, 2017
Jan 28, 2017 at 3:24 PM UTC
Sunday-empty Auckland my pre-breakfast escape,
Sheep-spotted mountains in early morning mist,
Whangarei marina for a cauldron of cappuccino.
Shop of metal sheep starts a day of Kiwi weirdness,
Of customer requesting glassblowing lessons, and
“All Blacks” silk boxers, unworn by players I hope.
Driving to Dargaville for Mr. M. Ujdur museum treat,
That late gum-digging, Esperanto teaching, vintner.
Beside a colossal collection of accordions with muzak,
Playing an instrument-impossible Whiter Shade of Pale,
Plus coins and buttons and stamps and Scotsmen,
Left feeling stunned, like I was tripping on acid.
The possum cull with prizes seemed almost normal.
Nov 25, 2012
Nov 25, 2012 at 9:29 AM UTC
Donate to me your time.
And I'll forever give you all of mine.
You wouldn't have to wonder.
Where I'll be?
For you will be right beside me.
We'll be unseperable.
That friends/kins will question that about us.
So, donate me your time.
I'll be the radiance of the sun keeping you smiling.
I will.
I know I can.
It's true.
I see this daily in you.
I'll be the enlightment of the moon glow.
That enhances your eyes to glow more.
Yes, I will.
My love will seal this deal.
Donate to me your time.
I'm asking you.
And requesting it too.
There's no reasons for anyone to be alone.
Unless they chose to be.
But concerning you.
If you're seeking love.
Then like the Temptations, I'm beggging you.
To donate to me your time.
I spoke for it.
And if I must I'll vote for it.
I know , if I was in a competition.
I would win.
I admit to myelf without being conceited.
I'm a very good man.
Think about it.
Ponder it.
Then when you find truth within my message.
Donate to me your time.
This a winning proposition.
Which I shouldn't have to mention.
Truth always wins out.
When you let the answer come out of your mouth.
Remember, I'll forever give you mine.
If you donate to me your time.
Love don't have to take so long.
Give it up.
And come along.
Jan 27, 2013
Jan 27, 2013 at 8:47 AM UTC
Her lips scream
" KISS ME "
Then whisper
" kiss me now "
At once
a thousand nerve-ends wake
electricity
rampant beneath
tender
sweet
candyfloss skin
Anticipating contact
her inner rhythms quicken
from ‘ bump-n-grind ’
to ‘ swing-beat ’
Hearts play along
to the new tune now
She smiles with those eyes
the message of her mouth
Delight
I understand at once
Replying
without reaching for a word
No second thoughts invade
the privacy of spontaneity
I just move to accept
this luscious invite
In a flash
ecstatic urges awaken
erotica in our minds
as we close
our telltale eyes
a split second before
the precious
perfect impact
Seems magnetically
heads tilt
Moving closer
till our silently screaming
half-opened mouths
knowingly meet
in once vacant space
Intentions projected
instantly accepted
Mouths
express new feeling
Tongues
take on new meaning
Suggestions
of intensity requesting
passions
yet to be fulfilled
The warm silk
snake of temptation
reacts to vibration
Twisting
Rolling
Curling
*******
Chewing
Playfully biting
Unspoken promises
Exciting
She plays a sensual game
Active / Passive
Strong / Soft
Control / Yield
Secrets revealed
Releasing for a moment
our mesmeric communion
Poised in breathlessness
we stare
as we subtly swallow
the essence
of our watery endeavour
Eyes smile
that insatiable smile
Still thirsting
chemical reactions
conceived by our emotions
Speed of light sensations
send shivers down our spine
Time
sleeps for a moment
Lost
in a fragment of dreamscape
we too escape
“ Mmmmmmm ”
The gentle sigh
waves through the air
We lose contact
with our unwelcome surrounds
as once again we entwine
to re-enact
the passage of our bliss
A repeat
of erogenous stimulation
replays the symphony of desire
in a higher vibration
Mouths in motion
mirror dancing
Automatic reactions
assume control
Whilst my mind
Is with her mind
my Soul
is with her Soul
Her grip tightens
Wanting more
wanton more
Red-hot
lava in the veins
seeking to surface
in a fiery eruption
Our watery essence
Seems to feed the flames
Yearning
I hear her
Burning
I feel her
Softening
Stiffening
Pulsing
I'm in her.
Jul 7, 2010
Jul 7, 2010 at 3:49 PM UTC
Sometimes I just want to see another way of being me
Another way of being free of all insecurity
But there are times when that is hard
And there are wounds that have been scarred
And now I'm trying to get by with what in my life has been marred.
I keep trying to escape all of the lies that cover my eyes like tape; such a disguise, I can let out only sighs.
It's hiding all of my fears deep inside all of my tears that never flow, I don't let them go, so I keep moving, I reap what I sow.
So no, I'm not fine, I walk a fine line between peace and what is at least my foreseeable destruction.
And I know I'm laughing and requesting you leave it alone but what is worse is the curse of knowing I am and will always be unknown.
All weight will drop off my shoulders, but before, it gets much colder,
So cover me in this vacancy of emotion and make me bolder.
Make me able to stand under the pressure of the hand that smacks my hand and tells me "Man, it's just a phase." which does the opposite of
Raising me up and making me new, so if you only knew that what you do makes me rue the so-called man that I've become and now
The future man that I will be will never rise up from his knee
So I'm left stirring in this mind of never-ending insecurity.
Aug 28, 2015
Aug 28, 2015 at 10:32 AM UTC
If the world were to end today,
I’d probably say to myself.
wow, looks like I only have 24 hours left in this world huh?
I’d spend the 1st half by grabbing my family members, give them the tightest hug I can give, and tell them that I love them, and thank them for everything. I’d probably apologize too.
And I’d probably start to shake, like a child craving for sugar.
All jittery, shaking from the thought, that I will only have 24 hours to figure out,
how to muster up the courage to tell you the things I’ve been wanting to say.
I’ve already done the math, and I’d be spending 2/3rds of my remaining time here, just getting to your house a midst the traffic.
and 3/4ths trying to bring you to the nearest mountain for us to watch the sunset, as the world crumbled away beneath us.
If the world were to end today.
I would grab my heart, whisper all the things I love about you,
seal it and then bury it into the depths of your existence.
In the hopes that when God is digging through the mine cave of your heart, he'll find it, and then open it like a time capsule, filled with all the things that we enjoyed, like cheese, long walks, spontaneous hangouts, and like our memories.
That when God opens it,
He’ll see a yellow sticky note, requesting Him to read it to you.
attached to a letter written in orange ink that I wrote specially for you.
If the world were to end today,
I’d like to get lost, In the spirals found in your eyes.
Your eyes is the number 1 thing in my list of favorite things.
Because they remind me of space, and galaxies that I would never ever get the chance to explore, knitted together by constellations that spell out your name.
And dear,
Our kiss will be like 2 galaxies colliding against each other,
Giving birth to a new galaxy.
But you know what, that got me thinking.
And I remember that when the big bang happened, or when a super nova happens.
That wasn't really the end of everything.
They all seem to signify a brand new start.
So I guess
The idea of the world ending, wouldn't bother me as much anymore.
Cause with us fading away,
Our molecules, atoms whatever we're composed of, will eventually find it's back to us.
And when that happens,
I'd be like a brand new star.
Because I know that i'd be able to see you again.
Like God saying again, "Let there be light." And there was light.
And for me that's like God saying again "Let there be you." And again there was you.
Dec 31, 2015
Dec 31, 2015 at 1:02 PM UTC
Teenage
From Considering our family members as our family
To considering facebook , Instagram and whatsapp as our family
Teenage has created differences in our families.
From crying over lost pencils and pens
To crying over fake people and friends
Teenage has given us some major teachings and lessons.
From completing assignments on time
To requesting for some extra time
Teenage has made us forget the value of time.
From making time to watch our favourite TV shows
To hardly getting time to watch any show
Teenage has made our lives a puppet show.
From carrying a bag full of books to school
To carrying only one book to look cool
Teenage has given us it's own defination of how to become cool.
From saving money in our piggy banks
To making Zero balance in our banks
Teenage has made us apart from our lovely piggy banks.
From dying to go to family get togethers
To finding excuses to avoid these get togethers
Teenage has separated us from our lovely get together.
From having a huge friend circle
To having only a genuine friend circle
Teenage has taught us the value of having a good friend circle.
From completing syllabus a month before exam
To opening syllabus a night before exam
Teenage has ruined the results of our exams.
Oh Teenage !
Oh Teenage! You are incredibly incredible,
But please be safe to us so that we too can become Incredible.
It's a fun to enjoy your loving years,
But please make sure that you won't left us in tears.
Our journey with you will always be remembered ,
Afterall You are a phase to be always remembered.!!
Jan 5, 2019
Jan 5, 2019 at 12:14 PM UTC
I Know My Work Is Done
*I looked down in pure amazement
And watched my son arrive
Counted all his fingers
To make sure he was alright
I would sit with him for hours
And rock him through the night
And I wondered how the child I held
Would somehow change my life
He would place his tiny hands in mine
So I could guide him on his path
Would not be afraid to tell his friends
How much he loved his dad
I remember him requesting me
At all his high school games
And when he'd see me in the stands
There'd be a smile there on his face
I would give to him all he needs
To help him grow into a man
Made sure he knew to show respect
And to lend a helping hand
He would ask for my opinions
On events within his life
And wanted me to stand with him
As he married his new wife
Now he looks down in pure amazement
As his new born son arrives
I watch him counting fingers
To make sure he is alright
I know now how he changed my life
As I watch him with his son
I can see the love that they share
And I know, I know my work is done*
Carl Joseph Roberts
Jan 22, 2015
Jan 22, 2015 at 8:15 AM UTC
And then there’s something special
in my solitary journey
Pristine sands aglow like pearls
Us, enjoying the serene, silky sea
This aching reverie, bitter-sweet memories
Our hands rowing our boat
Our dancing rituals under the moon
Chasing the sunset, enjoying the sunrise
How I long for those happier days
How I yearn for our lost serendipity
And so I pray for light and colors
For the radiance that once so bright
A whisper of prayer for our lost serendipity and splendor
And so I send my wishes through the joyous unceasing winds
Requesting the stars to keep track of us
Though our destinies may not again collide
Mar 5, 2023
Mar 5, 2023 at 5:17 AM UTC
This scares me a lot
Never had it done
I rather be in a different position
Than being only 1 legged
Scared urgent requesting guys except receiving you
Mar 9, 2015
Mar 9, 2015 at 1:15 PM UTC
It just happened to be when you turned 18
At the height of the war, Vietnam
The letter for you from a relative you never knew
By the name of Uncle Sam
Requesting you join him for a party
You and a few of your friends
Ooh La La here comes Paris
Island life you would live to regret
Where they turned your school boy fantasies
Into that of nightmares for men
In the confines of time you never dreamed you would find
The thoughts that now crisscross through your head
Then came the news, they picked you for a cruise
The last time you slept in your warm bed
On the very same day you packed it all away
Including what little sanity you have left
Here you were promised the tropics
There is where reality set in
Instead of the fancy sweet umbrella drink
They placed a cold gun in your hand
It came with a set of instructions
In black & white **** the yellow man
Where democracy rules, communism's for fools
As you share this for your Uncle Sam
You spent all of your time in the jungle
Battling those they told you to hate
Going to sleep at night in hopes that you might
Wake up to at least one more day
When they finally told you it was over
With fewer friends and far less of a man
You'll remember the names as they call from the graves
On the hillside of war, Vietnam
Back home to the sweet taste of freedom
Not quite the same as when you first packed your bags
Now they spit on you for what your Uncle put you through
You have to wonder what is the sense in that
The colorful world in which you once lived
Remains to this day a deep shade of gray
And all of this because you happened to get
That letter on your 18th birthday
Mar 4, 2016
Mar 4, 2016 at 9:48 AM UTC
I have a great story to tell
It all starts with a boy, young and bright
His family was poor, with three other mouths to feed
He never stopped dreaming, and writing, and reading
Until he found himself the words to plant a Dream Seed
Now what is a Dream Seed you ask?
It is conjured from our deepest desires
Our greatest thoughts, our greatest belief
But like a plant, a Dream Seed can wither
From our greatest pain, our greatest grief
Now back to the story
His Seed contained one single dream
To become famous and to be well known
He left that night, a burden to his parents
no more, with only himself roaming alone
He tested challenges of entertainment
Braved through insult and rejection
Why was he never good enough?
Why couldn’t he reach perfection?
A stormy night, he cried to the sky
The rapid winds and frosty rain answered his call
A lone figure brought him inside
And from there, his future was unfold
Read this passage, do it as dramatic as you can
“We never had to do this Emily, we never had to leave”
“I only wanted what I thought was right.”
“Don’t leave, you can’t leave me.”
“Don’t leave me here alone in the night.”
I applaud you, that was superb
He signed within the week and ventured to his dream
The seed blossoming in ways untold
Finally he was famous, finally he was well known
His signature was sliver, and his smile was of gold
Now read this script and get into character
“I am not a creature, I am a man!”
“Why should I take this child? I shall recant!”
“He isn’t mine, throw him in the street!”
“I…I…I-I can’t.”
That wasn’t the line, read the line again
He read it again and perfection was obtained.
But something lurked underneath his satisfied soul
He was changing, was transfiguring
But why? He had reached his goal
Just pretend, don’t worry about the part
He pretended and lied to his heart
It wasn’t just the worry, he was believing
That maybe, just maybe, he had lost
Something through his deceiving
Are you alright? Do you need some water?
He looked everywhere, he knew it was there
He smashed the jar where he kept his seed
He leaped for joy and opened the lid
And cried when he saw the weeds
What does that mean? What weeds?
His dream was now corrupted, his view no longer pure
Could he ever find who he was that day?
When he had one dream and one seed
Where his choice was black or white, not grey?
What happened?
He lived his life, weeping through his parts
Silently, he mourned for his soul
He was not the same, never plant more seeds
His heart too greedy with all the gold
Now I have told you a story, now I must rest
“Excuse me sir, a boy is requesting for you.”
Not now Ari, in the morning perhaps
“But sir, the boy has to tell you something.”
Jan 14, 2013
Jan 14, 2013 at 10:48 PM UTC
Unbeknown to her, she was the other daughter.
The clairvoyant said she was born of water.
*“Your beauty is your saving grace,
for so admired is your cherub-face.”
“My dear child, hold my hand close to you,
& see here, a young girl; veiled in black.
Worshipping the moon, beside a wolf pack.”
“For you, are celebrating a Lunar New Year,
requesting the spirits, my dear
beholding the Universe in the palm
of your hands. In the shadows, a silhouette
is walking towards you; a woman of a quintet.”
"You hear the piercing tone of a shawm,
a choir of voices & women barefooted
whose anklets ****** as a ritual dance
begins. But you stay. A statuette in stance."*
© Sia Jane
Apr 6, 2015
Apr 6, 2015 at 12:33 PM UTC
Pale kings and warriors
Play part in castles
Named life and death and creed,
Hailing servant majesties
Upon slaves and heretics
Adverse in competence.
A jester speaks up,
Detesting comic duties
Implored by tyrant rulers
Of life and death and creed,
Requesting majesties
Implored by slaves and heretics.
Jul 9, 2010
Jul 9, 2010 at 4:29 AM UTC