"shauna" poems
I arrive at the barbers
for my weekly, my usual,
and you are there,
sitting in my seat
crying. I lift you up,
cape and all,
take you round the
corner, where you tell
me you are sorry
but we have to go to
Brighton now, even
though it is 6pm on
a Friday and we won’t
be done until 2pm
tomorrow. Is it a ruse?
I think so, because
suddenly we are in a
part of London that
looks like Montmartre
(or it could be Richmond
masquerading as Venice)
and we meet a man
called Tricks who says
he’s the new chief now
because he knows the
location of all the bones.
And then there are
scanners at airports,
walk-in health centres,
families in North Carolina
with names like Kayleigh
and Shauna. And when
we are done meeting
them we are back, you
in the chair, glowing blue
under barbicide lights.
Dec 1, 2010
Dec 1, 2010 at 4:10 AM UTC
I just adore how you feel upon my skin, October.
I went outside to sit beneath an autumn tree
With its beautiful, colorful assortment of leaves
Crunching beneath me
And I asked,
If I looked as beautiful dying.
The passerby stare,
Analyzing the earthbound woman with a mossy soul
And never fail
To tell others
Of
The girl with golden leaves in her hair, in love with a boy who held autumn within the palms of his hands.
Blood spiller, blood drinker, heart of flame.
The days come and go, but in autumn, she cannot be tamed.
-Shauna
Oct 1, 2015
Oct 1, 2015 at 5:06 PM UTC
my name is shauna
i say im hot as a sauna
because that's the first
bar that i ever rap
no this is a poem
it's not a trap
to get you to listen
to what i could be spittin
or could i?
try?
to be
fly
like the
guys
but i'm a female in this world
filled with darkness, i hurled
threw up inside
when i found out my little cousin
was touched by some big scary man
i wasn't there to protect her
and society will neglect her
probably shame her
maybe even blame her
because of what she was wearing
how could you possibly be caring
about
or even
doubt
that a little
girl
with a small small
world
would fill it
with this scary
hairy
demon that i would ****** if i got my hands around his throat...
i don't mean to go
too far
it's just
when trust
is taken
forsaken
from a 3 year old girl
who will now question her world
and why it is so scary
and will be afraid of all the
hairy
men
because of that scary
demon
who took her spirit
ripped it right out of her pig tails
my grandmother wails
sick of all the bull **** man
sick of all the bull
****
man
May 12, 2015
May 12, 2015 at 4:39 AM UTC
He helped the woman to his left, a **********
and the gray ocean of darkness, his clothes,
empty ***** of an abandoned ghost himself;
the movement of completely destroying
the desert sky was hidden from the Jewish
white flame of a gypsum of soda, the saint
of the turning of the dawn, the love of loves,
the lived lore of the girl pronounces in vain
the knowledge, the income of the furry head;
the crazy beats watching Moses, the rain
a song on the skin, with the meč, inside her
políbila ** and his weak point planet
from the Teen game generalizes kisses to feel the color
of the flesh
of the decision issued a vision to talk with other lovers;
and fond of good arrows on the ground,
holding the body feels like a sock
and on the opposite foot, another sock,
and the clients who were prostitutes
with the strings across the gap of darkness,
the clothes of the fan, the WITCH pointer
loves it, put on in the desert of the garden,
he was concealed from the Hebrew painting, ||
the first of the holy desert king in the shadow
of the light of the symmetry of the gypsy, |
who loving to save, fell into licentiousness
in the turn, standing at the origin of the United States,
speaking as Daughters of the South at the back |
of the opportunity to live a bit of ****
and a bit of furry skin of help, listening to the music
of a crazy man dropped a ********** off in dark clothes
with empty **** ghost ***** an emotional soccer
paradise hidden in the desert, James kills the F template;
and draws the abstract gypsy to the new shadow king |
dawn
loved; sure mum cops taking calls in order
of origin: The hot **** bartender's victory,
East turned his fingers to keep injury, enough
to kneel to the US genius we live ****
and their daughters winds return fine hairy
ears, crazy rhythm **** ax, the lower part
taking over the area even knowing they leave
women's tanned songs of skinny teenage
flesh hiding under the colors including
watching during the summer kisses felt
holding the country was wonderful Maria
sides with the YWHA, large corporate
boots were shaped |||
in one sense, says the Jewish tomato.
Oct 29, 2018
Oct 29, 2018 at 3:50 PM UTC
I think you're afraid
fuck man
I mean you're 17 and you might go to jail
I would be afraid too!!
to be honest I think I would have killed myself by now
but maybe for you that's scarier...
I didn't mean for it to turn into a fight
Ya know?
dude?
hah
this depression I feel
I don't want it
I never wanted it
I want to stab the ******* demon inside me
that has me trapped
in this little *** cage, in my chest
and I'm trying !!
so hard !!
we haven't talked as much lately
I think you're afraid
I'm afraid too.
every day.
maybe not from the Feds
but from my own two hands
because I woke up with scabs all over my legs
and blood underneath my nails
when I thought that I was ok
every day a bar of this cage is broken
every day it is like I am gifted a new weapon from my subconscious
because whoever is together in my head
whether I'm crazy or not
we are a team
we are an army
and we will fight and we will NOT
let the depression win
so the day that we (I) beat it
hopefully I have more money
and more time
and more direction
because **** dude
DUDE
maybe I'll find you
so I can apologize like a human
instead of a try-hard wanna be
poet on the Internet
I miss you
I wish you the best
I wish I believed in a God
but **** I might still pray for you
you're still a beautiful person to me
and always will be
Your bro,
Shauna
Apr 5, 2015
Apr 5, 2015 at 6:22 AM UTC
he calls me poetic
he talks to me on the phone like I am not Shauna
But then
he breaks from something
a cage a shell a barrier
calls me
poetic
says I am
good with my words
man oh man i am going insane
Lord help us all
Jul 16, 2015
Jul 16, 2015 at 12:01 AM UTC
four years -
it's been four years since I fell apart for the first time over just a boy..
i don't even remember how much I hurt.
but I remember feeling I wasn't good enough.
I remember hating my body and hating everything about myself.
four years later I wouldn't say I love everything -
but I would say I can look in the mirror and like what's looking back.
because of you I fell in love with another skateboarder.
because of you I took time to listen to the quiet ones.
because of you I learned patience, and to keep fighting for what you love no matter the pain.
I mean maybe I didn't need that last part-
Considering I've been chasing the same young boy ever since I stopped chasing you.
He called me one night - years ago..
after reading the poem about you , and a few I had written about him.
Crying because he felt the love fading...
it faded.
Was that to welcome you back in?
Do things happen for a reason?
Maybe the boy I used to watch skateboard by the grocery store on clairmont is the one I've had in my heart all along...
But I must warn you:
My heart- its much colder now.
There are thorns around it - and if I thought I couldn't get to yours all of those years ago, how would we get to eachothers?
Your love is the strangest I've known.
No one talks of me higher,
but no one has so little to say...
If that makes any sense at all.
I'm excited to see you tomorrow.
You're the one who got me writing these.
You're the person who sparked Shauna's journey into herself.
Thank you.
Can't wait to see you.
Jul 11, 2017
Jul 11, 2017 at 11:46 AM UTC
Five women transcend
the stag cinema of hoary
yore Shauna Grant, the first
glamorous **** bucket,
paved the way for Dorothy
Stratten, the first Playmate
superstar: Anastasia Blue's
Russian underground cult
of Gonzo; Julie Robbins
thriving fan base; Candy
Barr, mother to them et al,
first **** star & premier
stripper. Amber Rayne who
crossed over to mainstream
always the dream, following
legends in the field such as
Marilyn Chambers & Traci
Lords. If there were pageants
in hell, the one who would
take the crown would be Linda
Lovelace, whose effect upon
the culture is felt to this day.
Feb 20, 2019
Feb 20, 2019 at 8:37 PM UTC
if you have the ability to love, try to love yourself first. if you can’t, try running. if you can hurt, try not to. send people home. and put the dog down. life is an improvised thing. no one knows. try not to eat. sleep till mid afternoon. only then can you see it. desperate for a future, a fix. don’t forget your frying pan. and on the way out, don’t forget the pain. attempt to help. try to hate. issues with humanity. playful with yourself. draw everyone naked, if you’ve seen people naked. change the light bulb and eat spiders. if you can stomach people, try to talk to them. If you can’t, try to sleep outside. that’ll make you hate humanity more. love the cold, the situation. own yourself
Mar 4, 2019
Mar 4, 2019 at 8:28 PM UTC