"roomie" poems - Hello Poetry

this is a poem about love, not boys, for once, or lesbians – but roomie love. my roommate is my other half, like when we were little and chewed halves of gummy bears to make two-flavored ones with different colored heads and feet. 3:30 am on a Monday night, all of our classes the next day, no homework done – who else will stay up with me to read over each other’s oldest emails, all disgustingly useless, all marked as “sent with high importance” who else will write poetry with me in the looming shadow of Chemistry tests help keep the Spring terms exams and US History APs at bay with jokes that aren’t funny but I laugh at anyways because you are stupid and you think they are – and everybody in the dorm thinks we are insane, but that’s okay with me because we have enough inside jokes to live on for a year and each other

0

Mar 7, 2013

Mar 7, 2013 at 12:40 PM UTC

Emma-Liang

all you need is Love

this is a poem about love, not boys, for once, or lesbians – but roomie love. my roommate is my other half, like when we were little and chewed halves of gummy bears to make two-flavored ones with different colored heads and feet. 3:30 am on a Monday night, all of our classes the next day, no homework done – who else will stay up with me to read over each other’s oldest emails, all disgustingly useless, all marked as “sent with high importance” who else will write poetry with me in the looming shadow of Chemistry tests help keep the Spring terms exams and US History APs at bay with jokes that aren’t funny but I laugh at anyways because you are stupid and you think they are – and everybody in the dorm thinks we are insane, but that’s okay with me because we have enough inside jokes to live on for a year and each other

19

Brooding over brews Breathing over false prophet lines It turns out I'm falling apart again 'You seem to be so in control' Through the haze Hiding in pristine dreams Painting over the cracks Sullen porcelain princess Sin fest cease your ingress Said the girl in fake flower print dress She knows what's good Like smoking in the back woods Lesbian shirtless circus living room roomie Sees through facade as if to say It's all a farce Understanding somehow Secret inner nightmare Don't know how to stop hiding Can't forget

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Nov 15, 2014

Nov 15, 2014 at 2:18 PM UTC

WhereDoIGoFromHereDorothy

Haze

Brooding over brews Breathing over false prophet lines It turns out I'm falling apart again 'You seem to be so in control' Through the haze Hiding in pristine dreams Painting over the cracks Sullen porcelain princess Sin fest cease your ingress Said the girl in fake flower print dress She knows what's good Like smoking in the back woods Lesbian shirtless circus living room roomie Sees through facade as if to say It's all a farce Understanding somehow Secret inner nightmare Don't know how to stop hiding Can't forget

19

Sunrise floods through vertical blinds strong enough to bleed through thick fingers of my aloe. Mold grows from soil-top deep into the root. I stretch my arms, wipe crust from my eyes just to find you. God, anybody but you. Eyes red. You didn't sleep. It's been days since you slept. Your pile of cups, stained from old coffee, mingling with cheap liquor bottles. Lying on the floor like the bodies in Normandy. The first thing you say to me, your catch phrase, prodding me with bony fingers, the scars across your arms like scales. Shallow pools under your eyes lingering, you say "you will not last today." I tried to spring to my feet, you held me down. "Sleep," you cooed as my eyelids buckled I believed it best I just lie down. "Spend the day in bed," you said. "It'll be nice," you say "let me have just one more day."

0

Sep 25, 2015

Sep 25, 2015 at 6:31 AM UTC

jordan-a-duncan

Roomie

Sunrise floods through vertical blinds strong enough to bleed through thick fingers of my aloe. Mold grows from soil-top deep into the root. I stretch my arms, wipe crust from my eyes just to find you. God, anybody but you. Eyes red. You didn't sleep. It's been days since you slept. Your pile of cups, stained from old coffee, mingling with cheap liquor bottles. Lying on the floor like the bodies in Normandy. The first thing you say to me, your catch phrase, prodding me with bony fingers, the scars across your arms like scales. Shallow pools under your eyes lingering, you say "you will not last today." I tried to spring to my feet, you held me down. "Sleep," you cooed as my eyelids buckled I believed it best I just lie down. "Spend the day in bed," you said. "It'll be nice," you say "let me have just one more day."

41

Sunrise floods through vertical blinds strong enough to bleed through thick fingers of my aloe. Mold grows from soil-top deep into the root. I stretch my arms, wipe crust from my eyes just to find you. God, anybody but you. Eyes red. You didn't sleep. It's been days since you slept. Your pile of cups, stained from old coffee, mingling with cheap liquor bottles. Lying on the floor like the bodies in Normandy. The first thing you say to me, your catch phrase, prodding me with bony fingers, the scars across your arms like scales. Shallow pools under your eyes lingering, you say "you will not last today." I tried to spring to my feet, you held me down. "Sleep," you cooed as my eyelids buckled I believed it best I just lie down. "Spend the day in bed," you said. "It'll be nice," you say "let me have just one more day."

0

May 14, 2015

May 14, 2015 at 12:47 PM UTC

jordan-a-duncan

Roomie

Sunrise floods through vertical blinds strong enough to bleed through thick fingers of my aloe. Mold grows from soil-top deep into the root. I stretch my arms, wipe crust from my eyes just to find you. God, anybody but you. Eyes red. You didn't sleep. It's been days since you slept. Your pile of cups, stained from old coffee, mingling with cheap liquor bottles. Lying on the floor like the bodies in Normandy. The first thing you say to me, your catch phrase, prodding me with bony fingers, the scars across your arms like scales. Shallow pools under your eyes lingering, you say "you will not last today." I tried to spring to my feet, you held me down. "Sleep," you cooed as my eyelids buckled I believed it best I just lie down. "Spend the day in bed," you said. "It'll be nice," you say "let me have just one more day."

41

It’s boxing day (the Brit name for the day after Christmas) and Pamela, Lisa’s grandmother is visiting our little pandemic ark. Pamela’s a Cowboys fan so we’re watching them slaughter Washington - between commercials - but now a Tesla commercial is running. “Those electric cars,” Pamala says dubiously, “seem problematic.” “You’ve heard of global warming, haven’t you, Pamala?” Leeza says. Leeza addresses everyone (even her grandmother) as if they were her age (12). It’s both seductive and lazy. “This whole system,” she raises her arms to include the apartment, the city and America, “will collapse - we’re DOOOOMED,” she concludes, as if speechifying to an eager crowd. “Everyone’s heard of climate change,” Pamela says, sipping her eggnog. Pamela is as well informed as any of us and seems rather envious of the future, even the coming awfulness. “Leeza’s her own theatre,” Her mom says, grimacing indulgently. Leeza’s full attention was now on the pastry tray - having spotted two small eclairs under the bear claws - she'd lost interest in the conversation and saving the planet. “The system won’t collapse,” Will says. Will received his early acceptance letter from Harvard the other day and now he knows everything. “We’ll lose Florida, South Carolina and New York,” he pronounces calmly, “so there’ll be some.. migrations.” “Thank you, professor,” Lisa says, rolling her eyes as if to say ”Harvard people.” “I think the Covid might get us all - before climate change,” I say, in the spirit of the holiday. “Well,” Will says, grinning, “that’s what ALL the people at inferior colleges think.” Leeza, passing by my easychair, curls into my lap like a cat, gently petting my hair. “Don’t be mean to MY friend,” she says, purringly - I was suddenly her possession. Lisa comes out of her chair, a sly smile on her face, to lay crosswise atop Leeza (and me). “Ugg,” I managed to say, squirming to get comfortable, then “Akkkk.” Lisa says, “Leave my poor roomie alone!” and starts baby-kissing my head.” Will starts in our direction like HE’S going to pile on. “Egggg! I shrek, “HELP!” Pamela whoops with glee as Dallas scores another touchdown. “Like beating a dead dog with a stick,” she says.

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Dec 29, 2021

Dec 29, 2021 at 10:10 AM UTC

anaisvionet

boxing day

It’s boxing day (the Brit name for the day after Christmas) and Pamela, Lisa’s grandmother is visiting our little pandemic ark. Pamela’s a Cowboys fan so we’re watching them slaughter Washington - between commercials - but now a Tesla commercial is running. “Those electric cars,” Pamala says dubiously, “seem problematic.” “You’ve heard of global warming, haven’t you, Pamala?” Leeza says. Leeza addresses everyone (even her grandmother) as if they were her age (12). It’s both seductive and lazy. “This whole system,” she raises her arms to include the apartment, the city and America, “will collapse - we’re DOOOOMED,” she concludes, as if speechifying to an eager crowd. “Everyone’s heard of climate change,” Pamela says, sipping her eggnog. Pamela is as well informed as any of us and seems rather envious of the future, even the coming awfulness. “Leeza’s her own theatre,” Her mom says, grimacing indulgently. Leeza’s full attention was now on the pastry tray - having spotted two small eclairs under the bear claws - she'd lost interest in the conversation and saving the planet. “The system won’t collapse,” Will says. Will received his early acceptance letter from Harvard the other day and now he knows everything. “We’ll lose Florida, South Carolina and New York,” he pronounces calmly, “so there’ll be some.. migrations.” “Thank you, professor,” Lisa says, rolling her eyes as if to say ”Harvard people.” “I think the Covid might get us all - before climate change,” I say, in the spirit of the holiday. “Well,” Will says, grinning, “that’s what ALL the people at inferior colleges think.” Leeza, passing by my easychair, curls into my lap like a cat, gently petting my hair. “Don’t be mean to MY friend,” she says, purringly - I was suddenly her possession. Lisa comes out of her chair, a sly smile on her face, to lay crosswise atop Leeza (and me). “Ugg,” I managed to say, squirming to get comfortable, then “Akkkk.” Lisa says, “Leave my poor roomie alone!” and starts baby-kissing my head.” Will starts in our direction like HE’S going to pile on. “Egggg! I shrek, “HELP!” Pamela whoops with glee as Dallas scores another touchdown. “Like beating a dead dog with a stick,” she says.

15

Twin babies were talking Snuggled up in the womb Heads bumping, legs tangling ‘You’re taking my room’; ‘Uh-uh,’ said the other ‘It is you in my space; Hey, do you buy into Life after this place?’ ‘Of course,’ said his brother. ‘There is life after birth! Right now we’re preparing To live out on earth!’ ‘No way,’ said the younger. ‘You will have to agree, There’s nothing more after-- For what…could it be?’ ‘Perhaps,’ said his roomie ‘There is leeway and light; In here, you’ll admit It is dark and it’s tight! And maybe, just maybe We will walk on our feet; For all that we know We will drink and we’ll eat!’ The doubting one chuckled; ‘That’s the utmost absurd, Nonsensical notion I ever have heard! This is all that there is; This is all that we need! We’re too wobbly to walk And the cord gives our feed!’ Then shaking his head With a thumb-sucking snort ‘There’s no life after birth; The cord is too short!’ His big brother held fast With a kick to his rear; ‘I think there is something That’s diff’rent from here!’ ‘Fat chance,’ said the younger ‘There’s no more than this sac. And what proof do you have? No one’s ever come back!’ ‘Perhaps they don’t want to.’ Responded his brother. ‘Perhaps, they’re caressed in The arms of their mother! Perhaps she is singing A lullaby tune In a soft rocking chair ‘By a big harvest moon!’ The younger twin gurgled And wrinkled his brow ‘If there is a mother, Then where is she now? A mother’s a folk tale, A legend of lore Please read my lips brother This is it, nothing more!’ The big brother scolded, ‘Stop making a fuss! If there was no mother, There wouldn’t be us! She’s all around us It’s in her that we be; I’m sure there’s a next life, And mother’s the key! She’ll tend to our hunger Our tears and our thirst. I already love her And speak to go first!’ The younger one let out A tantrum boohoo ‘You always go first; I’m telling mother on you!’

0

Feb 11, 2016

Feb 11, 2016 at 4:36 PM UTC

jeanelle-averett

Twin Babies Were Talking

Twin babies were talking Snuggled up in the womb Heads bumping, legs tangling ‘You’re taking my room’; ‘Uh-uh,’ said the other ‘It is you in my space; Hey, do you buy into Life after this place?’ ‘Of course,’ said his brother. ‘There is life after birth! Right now we’re preparing To live out on earth!’ ‘No way,’ said the younger. ‘You will have to agree, There’s nothing more after-- For what…could it be?’ ‘Perhaps,’ said his roomie ‘There is leeway and light; In here, you’ll admit It is dark and it’s tight! And maybe, just maybe We will walk on our feet; For all that we know We will drink and we’ll eat!’ The doubting one chuckled; ‘That’s the utmost absurd, Nonsensical notion I ever have heard! This is all that there is; This is all that we need! We’re too wobbly to walk And the cord gives our feed!’ Then shaking his head With a thumb-sucking snort ‘There’s no life after birth; The cord is too short!’ His big brother held fast With a kick to his rear; ‘I think there is something That’s diff’rent from here!’ ‘Fat chance,’ said the younger ‘There’s no more than this sac. And what proof do you have? No one’s ever come back!’ ‘Perhaps they don’t want to.’ Responded his brother. ‘Perhaps, they’re caressed in The arms of their mother! Perhaps she is singing A lullaby tune In a soft rocking chair ‘By a big harvest moon!’ The younger twin gurgled And wrinkled his brow ‘If there is a mother, Then where is she now? A mother’s a folk tale, A legend of lore Please read my lips brother This is it, nothing more!’ The big brother scolded, ‘Stop making a fuss! If there was no mother, There wouldn’t be us! She’s all around us It’s in her that we be; I’m sure there’s a next life, And mother’s the key! She’ll tend to our hunger Our tears and our thirst. I already love her And speak to go first!’ The younger one let out A tantrum boohoo ‘You always go first; I’m telling mother on you!’

76

My fortune lied, my grandma died, my roomie got married I started western music lessons but still i cannot lead My parents came to USA and roamed around 5 states I stopped drinking tap water and I started buying crates I spent hundreds of dollars on my hospital visits I got myself a new red car and a parking space that fits, My facebook page got filled up with just couple photographs Also I found many of my long-lost friends and my high school staffs Nothing eventful happened so far,this year was worse than worst But what still keeps me up and going is the hope to see the best I did not narrate all these events in the order of happening I just said these so they would rhyme and will seem nice to sing!

0

Dec 18, 2014

Dec 18, 2014 at 6:42 PM UTC

G3

My 2014

My fortune lied, my grandma died, my roomie got married I started western music lessons but still i cannot lead My parents came to USA and roamed around 5 states I stopped drinking tap water and I started buying crates I spent hundreds of dollars on my hospital visits I got myself a new red car and a parking space that fits, My facebook page got filled up with just couple photographs Also I found many of my long-lost friends and my high school staffs Nothing eventful happened so far,this year was worse than worst But what still keeps me up and going is the hope to see the best I did not narrate all these events in the order of happening I just said these so they would rhyme and will seem nice to sing!

12

Sweet 16 was when I found myself roomed in Cerritos psych ward, 2 other girls roomed with me, One kinda like me, I still have a piece of her converse sneaker logo as a suvenir of my teenage years, The other girl was a beautiful girl, Who cried everyday, And slattered makeup before going to bed, A beautiful girl with a stain in her smile, And a **** to her ego, I sat in this room and saw many come and go, I'm still stuck here.... With a suicidal mind a flow, Self esteem sunk low, Taste for life gone bland, Took this hand full of pills, Hope to sleep at last... FOREVER. Didn't happen, I'm getting stuck with needles on a daily, Monitored my food intake on a daily, Anorexia nervosa won't let me, But the girl at Cerritos psych, She still my roomie and others are gone.... Then back, Then gone again, The pretty girl at Cerritos psych, With big eyes, full lips and gorgeous brunette hair, She's still stuck in Cerritos psych, *** daddy told her that she's ugly and she's worthless only has a use for one thing, And to this day I wonder if she ever saw her reflection?? Has she finally seen beauty within? Or is she still stuck in Cerritos psych ward

0

Dec 2, 2018

Dec 2, 2018 at 9:54 PM UTC

ScaR

THE GIRL AT CERRITOS PSYCH

Sweet 16 was when I found myself roomed in Cerritos psych ward, 2 other girls roomed with me, One kinda like me, I still have a piece of her converse sneaker logo as a suvenir of my teenage years, The other girl was a beautiful girl, Who cried everyday, And slattered makeup before going to bed, A beautiful girl with a stain in her smile, And a **** to her ego, I sat in this room and saw many come and go, I'm still stuck here.... With a suicidal mind a flow, Self esteem sunk low, Taste for life gone bland, Took this hand full of pills, Hope to sleep at last... FOREVER. Didn't happen, I'm getting stuck with needles on a daily, Monitored my food intake on a daily, Anorexia nervosa won't let me, But the girl at Cerritos psych, She still my roomie and others are gone.... Then back, Then gone again, The pretty girl at Cerritos psych, With big eyes, full lips and gorgeous brunette hair, She's still stuck in Cerritos psych, *** daddy told her that she's ugly and she's worthless only has a use for one thing, And to this day I wonder if she ever saw her reflection?? Has she finally seen beauty within? Or is she still stuck in Cerritos psych ward

31

I do not, Let me repeat, Do not seeketh a (live-in) roommate as the world hast created, I seeketh a soulmate, A queen One of ethreal belated.. One to whom to be related in marital stature!!! For these ending times Everyone's a roomie Living with one, yet being strangers in their mist!!! Get the gist? Reader of so called loving words... I seeketh not to be under the same cupola, To only be one's guest!!!! I seeketh a domain, One of endless nest!!!! Not as thou oh world!!!!! Forgot love didst thou oh stranger?

0

Jun 2, 2015

Jun 2, 2015 at 9:15 AM UTC

brandon-nagley

Live- in guest's , to far common...

I do not, Let me repeat, Do not seeketh a (live-in) roommate as the world hast created, I seeketh a soulmate, A queen One of ethreal belated.. One to whom to be related in marital stature!!! For these ending times Everyone's a roomie Living with one, yet being strangers in their mist!!! Get the gist? Reader of so called loving words... I seeketh not to be under the same cupola, To only be one's guest!!!! I seeketh a domain, One of endless nest!!!! Not as thou oh world!!!!! Forgot love didst thou oh stranger?

18

Just got a call from an old friend that lives right in town at the bottom of Main in PC, near Butcher's Chop House. Roomie really (lived there about 1yr & 1/2). "Speak".... ****** Antoine....can't believe you picked up....I knew you weren't dead." "Joel my man! how's it? How's Crash, Gela, them slippery South Cackalacky squidbillies... Doug? Everyone still there?" "Yeah...time warp. ..Good bro...what's up with you...are you coming up this winter to tear your knee up again? Hope so that way you're stuck in the kitchen cooking all day!" "Hahaha hey Joel....remember where we were about this time 10 years ago?" "Yeah...we were heading home slowly from the first 'annual' Jackson Hole Music Festival....cuz you're *** wanted to fish the Green and every hole in the Uintas. Been fishing lately?" "Not much lately for fish my brother...more for smiles." "Imposter! You ain't Antoine!.... wait..... WHAT the HELL'S got into you?" "Awe nothing just caught two bugs....love and nostalgia" "Classic **** unclassic Antoine....come up in December and tell me about it" Colby and I are already planning to!

0

Sep 18, 2018

Sep 18, 2018 at 10:19 AM UTC

A-NU_0LD_POET

Park City UT

Just got a call from an old friend that lives right in town at the bottom of Main in PC, near Butcher's Chop House. Roomie really (lived there about 1yr & 1/2). "Speak".... ****** Antoine....can't believe you picked up....I knew you weren't dead." "Joel my man! how's it? How's Crash, Gela, them slippery South Cackalacky squidbillies... Doug? Everyone still there?" "Yeah...time warp. ..Good bro...what's up with you...are you coming up this winter to tear your knee up again? Hope so that way you're stuck in the kitchen cooking all day!" "Hahaha hey Joel....remember where we were about this time 10 years ago?" "Yeah...we were heading home slowly from the first 'annual' Jackson Hole Music Festival....cuz you're *** wanted to fish the Green and every hole in the Uintas. Been fishing lately?" "Not much lately for fish my brother...more for smiles." "Imposter! You ain't Antoine!.... wait..... WHAT the HELL'S got into you?" "Awe nothing just caught two bugs....love and nostalgia" "Classic **** unclassic Antoine....come up in December and tell me about it" Colby and I are already planning to!

14