"rory" poems
I'm considered to be nerdy
Awkward, not flirty.
They call me gay,
Because I Cosplay.
I must be a dork
Because Zelda's my lord,
And she's way cooler than any sport.
Could someone love me?
That couldn't be.
I watch too much anime,
And BBC.
I praise The doctor and Spock.
Even Sherlock.
Cause in my opinion
They're better than jocks.
Being nerdy is quite fun,
But you make me sound dumb.
We're accepting and caring
But please stop staring.
Am I making this boring?
Don't start snoring..
Just give me a chance.
I'll make it last.
We could play Skyrim or league.
Wait, don't leave!
I can be cool,
Just like you!
I can calculate big numbers in my head,
Or make a fortress out of my bed
I can be an ork, elf, or spy.
Just as long as it's allowed by the die.
I can cast spells online.
Don't worry, you'll be fine!
I can role play to the extreme!!!
That's right, I call it d&d.;
I'm proud to be a geek.
Yes, we're very neet!
We know our facts!
We're anime maniacs.
I'm good at mtg!
It takes skill to be like me.
I'm cool I tell you!
I'm grand.
But at the same time,
You don't make me feel great.
I'm a loser,
A dork
No, I don't like baseball, football, or hockey
I can't bench and I don't lift.
But I go to some pretty intense parties...
On Xbox.
My heart is bigger than my head..
No, not literally.
I'd bring you a rose
And write you a poem
You'd be my Rory.
This isn't the end of the story.
I'd love you more than
video games, Star Wars, and D&D.;
In the end,
You're always my MVP.
You don't have to lie,
I know you'll decline..
but my feelings won't change.
They'll always be the same.
Maybe I'd be cool..
If I were with you.
But that'll never be
Because you fail to see OTP.
Then again,
It's all good in the end
Because..
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Manga costs less
Than dinner for two.
Aug 12, 2014
Aug 12, 2014 at 11:34 PM UTC
To know just where your're going
You must know where you've been
You must respect the history
The things others have seen
It's true in all things relative
Be it music, sports or life
If you don't know where you came from
You're just dancing on a knife
Gherig, Ruth and Robinson
May, and Mantle, Seaver too
Respect their contributions
And don't just say Ruth who?
Respect where things have come from
And the players of the past
Because you learn and make things better
It's what makes the **** game last
Jimmy Foxx, Bob Gibson, Kaline
Nestor Chylak and The Goose
They made baseball special
They gave the game a little juice
Orr, Richard and Gretzky
Gordie Howe and Howie Morenz
You have to know about them
You need the beginning to your ends
Bob Baun and Bill Barilko
Connie Smythe and yeah...the Chief
You have to know their history
They're what it is to be a Leaf
The game has changed immensely
Things can not go back in time
But to me...the old alumni
Made the game I know as mine
Respect the ones before you
The ones who laid the groundwork down
The ones who made it special
The non-pretenders to the crown
Elvis, Buddy, Harrison
Played the songs inside their heart
Lennon, Wilson and the rest
They all played a real big part
Every single generation
should learn from the one before
For if they don't know where they've come from
Then what has it all been for?
Nicklaus, Palmer, Bobby Jones
Sarazen and Hogan too
They pushed the gameright to it's limits
Now the pressure's upon you
The new breed are the teachers now
They're the ones to lead the way
When twenty or so years from now
You'll hear somebody say
"Respect who came before you
The ones who made us so **** proud
LIke Nash and , Perry and Taylor Hall
They played the game so loud
Pudge, Jeter, and Verlander
they brought it up a notch
They were there to stretch the limits
Not to just sit by and watch
Rory, Justin Rose and Mahan
Bubba, Dustin and the rest
They are the players of the future
They all respected the games best
So, to know where you are going
You must know where you have been
Respect, past through the future
And all that's happened in between.
May 4, 2012
May 4, 2012 at 4:49 PM UTC
There once was a man with a bowtie
And a little redhead girl
I'm gonna tell you the truth now
She loved him and he loved her.
They sat around the table
With fish fingers and custard, ice cream
They talked about his big blue box
And her family
In the middle of their midnight snack
An alarm rang from TARDIS, blue
He told her he would be back
In just a minute, or two
He accidentally missed his mark
Twelve years had gone by
But he just sauntered out
Waving and saying "Amelia, hi!"
Twas the first time they saved the world
When Amelia was just nineteen
Two years later he picked her up
On the eve of her wedding
But then the cracks in the universe
And all of space and time
Consumed the Doctor, all of him
But that's not the ending rhyme
The night she and Rory wed
Amy jumped out of her chair
"I remember you!" She shouted
And the Doctor appeared there
And so the Raggedy man came back
No more in the crack in the wall
Amy's imaginary friend
Bowtie, suspenders, and all
Later came an astronaut
Her name was River Song
She lifted her hand and against her will
Killed the Doctor, gone.
But, hooray!
The Doctor wasn't dead
It was wibbly wobbly, timey wimey
Stuff messing with their heads
And Amy had a daughter
Name? Melody Pond.
But the only water in the forest is rivers,
So she was really River Song.
Subtract love,
Add hate
Daleks scream
Exterminate!
Angels, Angels everywhere
Take a little blink
In the ground and in the air
And then they took Rory
"Come along Pond, please!"
He said with a cry
She turned to him and said
"Raggedy man, goodbye!"
"No!" He shouts in despair
"It can't be true!"
He stands over their grave
Oh Ponds, he loved you
He sits on the steps
Letting River fly
Too grief stricken to hurt
Or even to cry
Dreams are broken
Time stands still
The Doctor runs up
A small rocky hill
Afterword, it reads
By Amelia Pond
We love you Doctor
And we're sorry we're gone
There's a girl waiting in a garden
She'll be waiting for a while
So go to her
She needs a smile.
Tell her she's a fairytale
Known by many, loved by more
Not best in the universe,
But most important in the world.
She went with him and took his hand
He showed her the stars and distant lands
Together they ran, their spirits high
Until they day came when they said goodbye
Goodbye, Ponds.
Apr 23, 2013
Apr 23, 2013 at 3:35 PM UTC
Mr. Rory Richards
Lived his life,
Taking garbage
Out at night.
He shovelled drives
He swept walks,
He listened intently
While others talked.
Others talked.
When Rory wasn't
Weeding the garden,
He was outside
Hanging laundry.
Moms were jealous,
Dads were shamed,
But whispering neighbours
Never complained.
Rory's good
At the husband game.
He presented well.
The neighbours continued
To tsk and tsk.
On his way home
From work,
He picked up the kids
From daycare,
He'd find time
To volunteer there.
He'd have treats
At home for them,
And their friends.
He volunteered with
Cubs and Scouts,
Always finding
Extra time
For jamborees
And overnights.
One day the cops
Came on the scene,
Rory wasn't
What he seemed:
His computer
Showed a different man,
A lurking, luring
Child **** fan.
And the neighbours'
Tsks cresendoed.
At his trial
He sat abandoned,
But neighbours there
Gave witness to
A man they thought
They surely knew.
A family man
In his pew.
All his life
He lived beside them,
A man they let
Their kids rely on.
Dec 17, 2014
Dec 17, 2014 at 10:38 AM UTC
I was conceived on acid and whippets, the drugs a kaleidoscope of umbilical dreams.
I was conceived on bad luck and lust, from darkness and sexually exploitive childhood trauma.
I was conceived on teenage dreams and difficult childhoods, to black sheep children of 17.
I was raised on addiction and narcissism, a love bomb here and authoritarian abuse there.
I was raised on the chess long game, to lose a piece here means to win at the end.
I was raised on 2000s tv, Lorelei Gilmore my wish for a mother, Rory my idol.
I taught myself strength in building up a fantasy on the outside while my castle crumbled within.
I picked myself up by the tendrils of a lost childhood, by the whispers of good memories, by the hiding places I found in pages upon pages of someone else’s imagination.
And I let it all go at 28. To find peace. To start over. To build myself a new castle with no more haunted corners or echoes of pill bottles or smells of ***** and orange juice permeating the breaths of those who walk these sacred halls.
Rib cage cut open, heart destroyed and renewed, ancient umbilical nooses cut with teeth.
I will no longer fall victim to my mother’s circumstances or my father’s mistakes, I will never have the soul I’ve created look at me and ask himself if he is loved or safe.
I am cycle breaker,
I am generational karma’s worst ******* fear,
I am no longer frightened maiden,
I am fearsome mother.
I am new.
May 17, 2022
May 17, 2022 at 12:15 PM UTC
A bright blue police box spins through the sky
Over 50 years have passed, so no one bothers to ask why.
A Doctor in name, but no medicine dispensed
His adventures defy all common sense.
A Companion is always along for the ride
When the TARDIS lifts off; it’s bigger inside.
Our open-mouthed guide every step of the way
Their first visit extends to a permanent stay
The last of the Timelords or so people say
From a long-distant planet they call Gallifrey
Endlessly loyal with a mind second to none
He has never resolved a dispute with a gun.
He never seems to look the same for more than a few years
A fact that has left some in fits of angry tears
But everyone he’s truly known has felt a deep bond
Just ask Rose, Martha, Donna, Clara, or Amy & Rory Pond
Questioning the world and its traditions, his mind often lingers
On the tasty goodness of custard and fish fingers.
His personality leaves cause for some alienation
But what else can one expect after regeneration?
Friends often follow quickly in his tracks
Like Danny Pink, Madame Vastra, Jenny, & Strax
Otherworldly villains into our imaginations creep
Psychotic snowmen, The Master, Daleks, Cybermen, and unrelenting Angels that Weep
Dinosaurs in London, the Titanic in space
Motorcycles driving up Big Ben fast enough to win a race
Green forests of Sherwood; painting with Van Gogh
He can take us anywhere we want to go
And if when the journey stops your lips begin to quiver
Just breathe deep and imagine the Song of a River
Don’t go off the handle or fly into a rage
Open up a favorite book and tear out the last page.
That way, the stories won’t ever end and we can let them be
Soon another generation will come along to see
How a man whose true name remains unspoken
Can face life’s harshest obstacles and still remain unbroken
Aug 27, 2015
Aug 27, 2015 at 9:47 PM UTC
I really should be studying, I know,
but I can’t help logging in.
I’ve done some work today already, though,
would one episode be a sin?
Just to check on the friends with the apartment and the purple door,
or maybe the ones from the Scranton office who sell paper.
I also want to know what Eleven is up to,
and definitely Rory and Lorelai Gilmore.
I’ll curl up with a blanket here and i’ll make some popcorn later.
I think this was a good decision — it does say “Recommended For You.”
Jan 15, 2018
Jan 15, 2018 at 10:43 PM UTC
Aksis (Greek: ἁψίς; majority apsides, Greek: Enhancements, Improvements) is the highest point in the course [orbit] of one thing. 10000.001 1000 hours on the moon and the moon [2] ... 34C Horse and P4 / 4 (see Cicero / PH3 screen) 4P * 1000-1010 = 3-2 George. ... (July 73) Jul 42 in Italy, Poland, Picture of Hiroshima P2 Columbus, Georgia, Europe, Columbia 100 MTN Toonberg [People] About 1683 - P ***** 4/4, Chen Xin Shibiru. Cicero / P / [2] ... 1000 to 10,000,000. The King's King after many high speeds of 3-4p of Master Cranial Winter of Hiroshima HD HD-DA ... Mother's Scandic Faced Keira is a poor and unhealthy injury.) I've got a headline. Taurus is in charge of the drivers, IPA women's wives (BBC Taurus IPA), IPA women - Pastor BBC Taurus - after suffering, woman and bishops hit on the easiest arrow for the arch. Hunter, the commander of the powerful is new. Papa Andrew you Howl Yellow Chicken Mm Agbarus Bosma Test for Sinestro 1 / 3-1000. Smart 4P George Elvira, December II - Pilot 2 ... 73 [2] 3 Original Script file. 3 42-38000 Preparing People in Georgia, Georgia Paz Two Years - Shell HTS Hiroshima, Paul, George P. 2. 1683 ... English, French, Colombo, Nintendo, Canuck Black Rory, agree with national laws . .. [2], Greece, Italy, United States in sports groups ... demand for space [4] [5] [6] ATL one but we do not read, "I have heard the head twice" but this is the idea, good. When a leader dies ... buried in the Paris Labyrinth, Tess and Brie and the Kronogods Ready | A pleasant place of residence held August 1570 [11: 5] Clement Bach Bali - the world's largest Cicero sea. More than two years Hydroponics / L-2 George ovulation stream.d special at the end of four years, [4] Google has more pressure 5. [7] Using the backpacks of Dr. Clarke's four Gadgets and Sara. "The German Parliament says the House says 4/357 100 Evolve Mobile 4 R / 3 1000 MPS: 3-10000 years ago to Mali P4 2.3 2.1 (4) Investing 100 years ago", George Thomas (he less than 3).||
Oct 25, 2018
Oct 25, 2018 at 6:30 PM UTC
It was quite evident as a teenager , drawing Boston's guitar shaped space ship on the back of an English book , playing the opening riff to Smoke on the Water with a broomstick
Hiding in the closet , listening to Kiss's first album , singing in front of the mirror to REO Speedwagon
Bad Company on the eight track in my '63 Ford Falcon , taking a Guess Who album to show and tell in Kindergarten
Reciting every lyric on Three Dog Night albums , Foreigner turned up so loud that the windows would ratttle !
Learning Free songs note by note on the guitar , playing Born to be Wild like I was on a World Tour
My heroes are Page , Scholz , Perry and Geddy Lee ! Soundgarden , Alice in Chains , Mott the Hoople and Queen
Jimi Hendrix bringing his Strat to life , Eddie's blistering fretwork !
Crosby , Stills and Nash , three part Angelic vocal harmonies , Ronnie James Dio wailing like a banshee !
A Gibson through a Marshall , A Fender through a Vox , a Tele through a Peavey , a Rickenbacker through an Orange !
Jim Morrison turning poetry into song , Elton John baring his soul through the piano
Eddie Vedder in a trance on stage , Anne Wilson crying out in pain , Layne Staley raising the hairs on the back of your neck , the reassuring voices of McCartney and Lennon , every musical note committed to paper by George Harrison
Chris Cornell screaming into the night , the aura of Robert Plant onstage
the sweet guitar work of Eric Clapton , heart wrenching soul of Janis Joplin
The wailing guitar of Robin Trower , the blues power of Rory Gallagher
Siren song of Annie Lennox to the infectious , brilliant lyrics of Tom Petty
Nov 16, 2015
Nov 16, 2015 at 11:50 AM UTC
It’s December, it’s foggy and rainy, but that fits. Of course, a rainy Saturday means gathering in the common room with my roommates and watching either “The Hunger Games” or “Twilight.” Leong’s never seen Twilight, believe it or not, what are they DOing in China? We were explaining that It’s ok to talk through Twilight because it’s completely senseless. Yeah, good times.
We got back from Thanksgiving break, and we had to hit it - grinding to squeeze half a semester into 18 days. It’s a cornucopia of pressure. Yes, we’ve hit the books, but we’re still us.
Here’s a question: What’s the first season in December? “Spotify wrapped” season! EVERYONE has Spotify and once a year you get a summary of your listening habits. The reports came out this week and it’s all people are talking about. Comparing their lists, artists, tastes. Those lists say a lot about someone and it’s ok to not have taste, we should normalize it.
My top artist was Taylor Swift (duh) my top song was Taylor Swift’s “Renegade,” Spotify says I listened to it 285 times but that’s biased because more than once, when writing a paper, I put that song on a loop for 6 hours. My second most listened to song was “Champagne Problems” By Taylor. That song is so Rory, Gilmore Girls coded - like Rory saying, “you're on your own.” My other top artists are TV Girl, the backseat lovers and hypo campus. Yeah, I roll big.
Taylor’s also been in the conversation because Sophie has an ex-fem-friend (a freshman) who started seeing a 45-year-old guy. Let me ask you, what does a 45-year-old man have in common with an 18-year-old girl? We have Yale friends in their early 20s who consider themselves still teenagers and children and THEY are horrified. It’s naked fracking ********** (Sorry, that one foamed over.)
The whole situation is ripped from Taylor’s 2010 masterpiece “Dear John,” which is about her dating John Mayer when she was 19 and he was 30-something. Her friends warned her, but she wouldn’t hear. Taylor Swift can be corny, and I love the corn, but she can be topical too and even though I was 7 when she released “Dear John” (2010), it’s a timeless lesson.
Dec 3, 2022
Dec 3, 2022 at 2:01 PM UTC
New York City has just published
the Doomsday Book.
Highlights include:
* They will ration life saving medicine.
Sarah was right. They have convened
the death panels.
* They will enforce quarantines. They will
separate the infected from the unaffected;
hoping the infection of fascism
spreads into the mind
of the entire
body politic.
* They plan the destruction
of domestic animals.
Even little Joey's
Teddy Bear will not
be spared. As
we speak,
its furry head
lays upon their
guillotines of
justice.
* They will seize property. The
thieves running the county
are carefully planning
a final plunder.
* They will search our homes.
They see us living in our
glass cages. There is
nothing left to monitor;
but we will all be
compelled to make
daily entries
into our
Facebook
accounts.
John Q Public
believes these
measures
are good.
The terrorists
frighten his
banal
imagination.
His sound
reasoning likes
the idea of
another brick for
our prisons of fear,
another bar
to strengthen our
cages of **********
Music Selection:
Rory Gallagher,
Walk on Hot Coals
2/16/11
Oakland
jbm
Apr 12, 2013
Apr 12, 2013 at 8:01 PM UTC
Here's to showing off about football
Here's to thinking cautiously
Here's to candy
Here's to barely knowing the person who sits two seats away
Here's to a sweet tooth that tests limits
Here's to kitties and puppies
Here's to slowing rejecting the seating chart
Here's to a new chart that brings two seats together
Here's to a mutual friend
Here's to black and blonde hair
Here's to math class
Here's to learning
Here's to growing
Here's to October for reducing two seats away to one
Here's to November for closing the gap
Here's to weird animals
Here's to a new group
Here's to the boy who drops out
Here's to getting to receiving his GED
Here's to "I don't want to go homes"
Here's to choir as well
Here's to the weird science teacher who's room is claimed
Here's to awkward conversations that keep life flowing
Here's to boyfriends that lack approval
Here's to moving to a new room
Here's to arguments about Jess and Dean
Here's to Rory and Lorelai
Here's to that phone call at nine pm
Here's to "He wants to take a break"
Here's to "It's mutual" through heavy tears
Here's to friends ready to comfort
Here's to "He's trying to cheat on you"
Here's to "I just broke up with you, that's what happened"
Here's to feeling comfortable again
Here's to pause buttons for God of War
Here's to "He just broke up with me"
Here's to "He's just doesn't feel the same way anymore"
Here's to comfort and to "I hate him"
Here's to wanting to better oneself
Here's to falling short and crawling back
Here's to first fights
Here's to only lasting twenty minutes
Here's to "He blocked me"
Here's to "He's cheating on me"
Here's to not needing him
Here's to the past coming back to haunt you
Here's to being stabbed by someone once called friend
Here's to silence
Here's to "She's so pretty"
Here's to "I love you"
Here's to "No more pining after lame guys"
Here's to seeing that teacher at Goodwill
Here's to days of brokenness
Here's to hope
Here's to the future
Here's to sweet sixteens
Here's to first cars
Here's to reptiles in rainy weather attire
Here's to sassitude
Here's to sasstastic people
Here's to near deaths
Here's to survivals
Here's to first sleepovers
Here's to lunch at that cute Italian bistro nobody knows
Here's to Philly cheesesteaks
Here's to Thai tea
Here's to "When can we do this again"
Here's to nightmares about rejection
Here's to dreams about perspective
Here's to an undying friendship
Here's to an eternity of trust
Here's to many more days
Here's to you
And here's to me,
Cheers,
Your best friend
Jul 6, 2016
Jul 6, 2016 at 1:23 PM UTC
Life with the Ponds
There was a girl
that I knew for years
When young, she was strong
And had little fears.
When older, she engaged
to a man with such glory.
But she waited so long
to tell me of Rory.
Then we started, with time,
to bring him along.
And in less than a minute,
her Rory was gone.
He vanished from time
and Amy forgot.
While, as my curse,
I sadly did not.
But then with a bang,
the boy did return,
when he was desperately needed,
when life wouldn't burn.
A brave soldier he was
with little to no fears.
He sat there with Amy
for 2,000 years.
Then we saved the world.
Reset, it would be,
but, in return,
it would lose me.
On my way back
through the turning of time,
I took notice
of this cursed life of mine.
Soon through the flashback,
which showed little glory,
I stopped in my path
to tell Amy a story.
It brought me back
into the world.
In time for a wedding
of a boy and a girl.
I had a calling
from the groom's bride.
"Oh Doctor, my doctor,
you cannot hide
You're not imagined,
you are so real.
Come back through the crack
so that it can heal."
And soon I did
as the wind blew
I arrived in a tux,
and brought something blue.
After awhile,
we set off again
Me, happy as ever,
with my two best friends.
And, after that,
It didn't take long
til we went to war,
til they had River Song.
Her life was confusing,
and converged into mine
I didn't realize
she was a lady of time.
When young, she was stolen.
Being trained, was she.
All of that work
just to **** me.
She almost succeeded
but it wasn't too late.
She gave me her lives.
She'd never regenerate.
Later, we'd marry,
when I was to die.
That's what earth needed
to move forward in time.
But yet I survived
in a robot of me
"Oh, clever Doctor,
how could this be?"
I know it confuses,
but one must not know.
It could fill up your brain
so much it might blow.
Now, on with the story,
it's soon to end.
I do not like it,
but it's hard to pretend.
We found Dinosaurs, cowboys,
we held the power of three,
but then came the angels.
They took them from me.
My sweet little pond,
and one of her boys.
I was so broken.
I lost all my poise.
Before all of this,
we ran, and we ran
But now there's no running
"Goodbye, Raggedy Man.
May 18, 2013
May 18, 2013 at 10:21 AM UTC
We meet
in Spring,
but began in
the Fall.
Looking out
the window
of your car
I imagined running
my fingers over
cornfields like pages
of a book.
Watching the sunset
in the rearview mirror
as we moved forward
together, needing
two of my hands to
touch just one of yours.
Followed by 120 days
of realizing we both love
saltine crackers and both drool
when we sleep really well.
You loved listening
to my heartbeat and telling
me how it sounded and
when I couldn’t sleep
you’d pull my head to
your chest and tell me
to listen to yours.
120 days of you guessing
my favorite flower,
complementing my favorite cardigan,
picking my favorite book off the shelf
and reading to me, and attempting to tie
my hair in a ponytail or a bun.
And you touched like
my skin was ice and
your hands skates,
but that turned into you
grasping at me like
the room is flames
and my body oxygen
On the 120th night
you crawled into my bed,
I could taste the alcohol
on your mouth when you
told me you loved me
and I became addicted
to the taste.
After a week
I was Rory and you Dean
and with that began
our 39-day happy hour.
Until the 159th night
when you took back
that you loved me and
I knew I never could again.
My skin regressed
back to ice and the next
45 days was our last call,
numb to it all.
On the 204th day
you were Summer and
I was Tom eating pancakes
in a diner.
All I did was stare
at the buttons on
your shirt and think
about the time we
saw the moon and you
asked for me to write a
poem but little did you
know I have been this
whole time:
Iris Moon
Marble Moon
Missed Moon
Monday Blues
Button Moon
Spring Cleaning.
And never moonstruck.
We lasted 12 more days
and when we ended my first
thought was that I can now:
cut my hair
count again
and write again.
Jun 22, 2015
Jun 22, 2015 at 2:02 PM UTC
Why must we read 500 pages
to get the moral Of the story.
Keeping it abbreviated is
Not the worry
You write and write
Until we are wick and rory
But if it is over now or then
it will still have it's same glory.
Stop this addness or
we will never finish
until we are forty!
two seconds and done,
might seem a little whorey
But do it again and
we will just skip to the end.
Jun 15, 2012
Jun 15, 2012 at 2:46 AM UTC
They say good things come,
to those of us that wait.
Some pay no attention to it,
Some others call it fate.
But I guess there is some truth,
to having a little patience.
Cuz you showed up and easily surpassed all expectations.
That made the wait so worth it,
There's no way, nowhere no forces,
That could separate me from a being that's so perfect.
So if I had to, I'd wait again.
Wait longer than Roman Rory,
I'd wait as long as I needed,
for the chance to start our story.
Apr 28, 2015
Apr 28, 2015 at 6:56 AM UTC
So I got this card
in the mail you see
“To: Virginia”
Pretty as can be
I opened the card
with a half-assed smile
only to see
a number to dial
I picked up my phone
and with much despair
dialed my girlfriend
whose number was there
“I think it’s you
and definitely not me.
I’m fairly sure
we weren’t meant to be.”
As I hung up the phone
with a smile on my face
I thought of some blackmail
of her in lace
My puppy dreaming
by my side
You won’t be ready
for this ride
It was a bad idea
to break up with me
And now in time
you shall see
I’m kind of a *****
when it comes to you
I really don’t care
what the hell I do
As long as in the end
I see you cry
And I’ll tilt my hat
With a satisfactory sigh
I don’t hate today
as you see
I just toss some arsenic
in their tea
I’m glad you’re in love
I mean, it’s really plain to see
With your Facebook stati
and obnoxious deeds
Finally one girl
got it right
and bought me a puppy
for all my lonely nights
She knew that I
didn’t need a card or flowers
I just needed
a friend who sat next to my shower
Although this girl
can’t compare
her bright evening eyes
and wind-blown hair
She didn’t send me
that horrid card
she simply reminded me
that life is hard
She didn’t leave me
to fend for myself
she instead put my ego
on a slightly higher shelf
Although I loved that other
card-sending *****
I’m fairly certain
that you’re it
My Valentine’s Day wish
come alive in my room
across the hall
next to the food
So to everyone else
who is lonely on the day
I say to you
Don’t be swayed
I found my girl
in a different type wrapping
You can always find yours
But don’t ever be sappy
This girl is at class
taking tests, and passing life
I’m sitting in my room
as high as a kite
Not high on ****
or any other type drug
As cheesy as this is
I’m completely high on love
Feb 14, 2012
Feb 14, 2012 at 12:21 PM UTC
What flowers beauty
Holds my attention
Your
Breathing
Grasps
My
perplexion
The shadows
Of lovers
Left aside
For hearts are beating
And need not hide
I need not look
To sky or sea
For beauty sits
In front of me
Mar 17, 2013
Mar 17, 2013 at 11:08 PM UTC
To you I say I'm sorry for the feelings i never knew,
I couldn't say with certainty that what I wanted was you.
But yet you still listened every time I spoke a word.
It didn't matter what I said, to you it was always heard.
When I was in your company I felt totally at ease.
Nothing seemed in possible; in fact it seemed a breeze.
As your arms wrapped around me, I felt your warm embrace.
I knew you understood me, with you I felt so safe.
You truly understood me and what I was going through.
I didn't have to say the words, you just simply knew.
So many times I looked at you and you brought tears to my eye.
But yet I couldn't bring myself to let it go and cry.
The roller-coaster I was on, you had been on it before.
But i didn't want to know if it, I didn't want to hear any more.
Yet every time I talked to you, I felt so open and free.
I only wished I had seen then and now there could be a you & me.
That weekend that we spent together, I didn't want to part.
I knew the day I first met you that you had taken a piece of my heart.
That eve we walked in the woods, the way you held my hand.
The moment that you kissed my lips, I knew it would all be grand.
As I returned to home, the sadness it began
And so the tears they started, down my face they ran.
For the first time I had been happy in the arms of a guy.
But yet i felt so guilty, I could do nothing but cry.
It’s only now that I realise my feelings they were true.
In these past few weeks all my thoughts have been filled with you.
There is nothing i can do now; you have found I'm sure a great lad.
If he always makes you smile, well then I'm truly glad.
Jun 10, 2014
Jun 10, 2014 at 7:07 PM UTC
Eyes, little and innocent but see all that can be seen
Ears so small, yet omnipotent in their own way
Paws that will one day shake the ground as he greets me
Tail that shows true emotion that can’t be faked
Teeth that remind you that, “If you need me mom, I’ll defend you... but in the meantime I can has treat?"
Fur that reminds me of my warmest and softest blanket
Nose that knows no bounds as to where it will lead him
Growl that will one day ward off monsters and all the ‘bad guys’
Bark that speaks to me clearer than most people I know
Sleep well my little friend, and may your dreams be as innocent as you are
Feb 25, 2012
Feb 25, 2012 at 1:02 PM UTC
last night, in a haze,
i stood in your room,
the eternal fool, as
you played out pattern
of the universe and
said:
"tom, go home n
sort yr **** out."
Nov 6, 2015
Nov 6, 2015 at 9:29 PM UTC
When you meet a person the first instinct is to know their name,
A proper noun to represent them as a whole,
A name can define you,
And make you a person, not just a being.
So when people ask my name, why is it that I am so pained to admit it?
The name I was given at birth,
my dear loving parent had picked out so carefully from all the rest,
why must it hurt so much to admit?
Why can't I appreciate my name?
Why don't It feel like it is my name?
My name is dysphoria, you answer to me, you're weak, I can tell, so cry on your knees
"Such a pretty name" they say,
"It suits you so well" they say,
But it makes me sick to my stomach,
I just want to hurl those letters into oblivion,
A garbled mess from which I can reform who I am.
Reform my name.
And my father wonders why I wear thick jumpers in the summer,
My mother looks concerned when she sees my lack of breath,
From the construction of the 4 sports bras on my chest.
And from her lips slips that horrid name.
And it's like I can breathe even less.
My name is dysphoria, you answer to me, you're weak, I can tell, so beg in your knees
My aunt wonders why I cut my pretty hair,
My grandad thinks it's weird that I won't wear a dress,
I don't get why "God" is angry when clearly it's just them,
I thought he taught us to love each other?
Does this rule not apply to me?
"A loving daughter" yeah right;
Just you wait and see.
My name is dysphoria, you answer to me, disgusting, revolting, now spout me your plea.
My sister tries to be supportive but I can tell she doesn't get it,
My mother doesn't mention it,
My father hardly looks at me.
But they don't understand the joy I felt,
When I took that first injection.
My hormones set on fire,
My blood set a light,
And for once in my life-
My body started to feel right.
My name is dysphoria, you should answer to me, disgusting, revolting, a girl in boys clothing.
And yeah, my family might not use my new name,
But it's on my driver's license,
My passport,
My soul,
And finally I was excited to introduce myself to people.
Finally I was happy to exist,
I was happy to be me-
A boy at last.
With a real name: Rory.
May 26, 2020
May 26, 2020 at 7:05 AM UTC
I have a feeling of wonder,
I want to go places,
Places I haven't yet reached,
A place that will feel me with joy.
A place I have in mind,
A place I've seen through sight,
I watch it all the time,
Through a window.
Their cultural aspect,
Peaks my interest,
I want to know their stories,
Their way of life.
They indulge in everything,
It's their unique way of their intriguing cuisine,
That gives a taste of something exquisite,
As exquisite as it is, I long to see,
From Seoul tower,
The city's beauty,
To Jeju island, where breezes flow,
It's charm and wonders, a peaceful glow.
by: Jn & Rory
Dec 9, 2024
Dec 9, 2024 at 8:49 AM UTC
Hands too numb
To move anymore
Resting my head
On the inside shelf
Reflected in the plastic
High on the scent
Of must and dead butterflies
Breathe out hard
To fog up my reflection
I don't want to see myself
Sep 25, 2019
Sep 25, 2019 at 8:06 PM UTC