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Left Foot Poet Jun 2014
some times I believe,
not think,
but believe,
that there are indeed little figures in the grass,
brushing my ankles with tickles and laughs

sometimes in mid of velvet black,
can see them waving their six fingered hands
in front of the lights across the bay,
for the twinkles are different, their winkles,
semaphoric, euphoric, random but patterned

every know and every then,
could they be inside me,
inciting riots, sugar sharp pains,
in places where pain has no place purposed,
feel them lifting my-back-of-the-neck hairs,
at scary movies, making an ear itchy, why?

these elusives
are fairie godmothers,
personal angels,
hobgoblins,
shoulder sitters,
amusing muses
ear whisperers,
of new poem titles

sock stealers,
shoelace knoters,
giggling self-amusers,
ever present, ever invisible,
hat hiders, wet spot slider installers

you say you know them too?

cousins perhaps, for my elusives,
could not be here and there,
for they are:

as I write,
as I speak,
this very second
fluttering my eyelids,
those rascals,
to lay me down to sleep,
in cherishing tenderness me to keep
for they know too well,
sleep,
is an elusive of a different kind,
like peace of mind,
but they do their best,
to distract me unto rest
June 2014
Mr Shankley Mar 26
An old deflated football
where the lonely magpie sits,
singing melodies of memories,
of a trampoline and a stolen kiss.

When I couldn't tell the difference
from your smiling eyes of green,
if underneath you were reptile,
or just plain naive.

But with my pocket full of dust caps
it doesn't matter much at all,
run away, take chase,
shoelace slapping against the wall.

And if our little fingers are strong enough
to make a promise that will last,
i'll keep this magpie singing,
until our cigarettes have turned to ash.
Madison Jun 16
when i fell for you,
i didn't just trip over my shoelace
and scrape my knee on the gravel

cupid picked me up
by the neck of my shirt
and hurled me in front of a train
with your name on it.

when i fell for you,
i fell so hard
and so fast,

it wasn't a
"pick yourself up
and dust yourself off"
kind of fall,
it was a violent
earth shattering
knock the wind right out of your lungs
kind of fall.

and when i lifted my head
after impact
i didn't see stars
spinning around my eyes,
i saw only one
and it was you.

so tell me,
what can you do
when you’ve fallen so hard
that your bones are unable to heal?
when the only opioid that can
ease my pain
are the moments when
your lips are pressed against mine?

they say you can only fall in love once
and I’ve tripped along the way,
but I’ve only ever
truly
fallen for you.
Rahul Luthra Jul 2018
I'm just a simple person, just like the rest
Well, not entirely simple, but nonetheless
It's like society and the media just say what they want
To create new forms of discriminations, that will forever haunt
As if the already existing ones weren't bad enough
They must make sure that you feel flawed,
and make your life tough
I'm just another person; I removed the word simple
People nowadays even get trashed for having a dimple
"HA, it's just a deformity on your face!"
Well, I hope you trip and fall on your own shoelace :)
I'm just another person, with a not-so-great vision
I need glasses, so that I don't squint at the television
It makes my life easier, but the media has made it tough
Their influences and the consequential societal mentality,
has made my childhood rough
Beauty is said to be in the eyes of the beholder
Yet friendship is considered beauty,
when it gives you a shoulder
To cry on, is what I meant
Not literally
I mean it could
Just didn't want to be misunderstood
Why are glasses objectified,
like in The Princess Diaries
Is it not considered dignified
to not want your eyes to get all fiery?
Trust me, I'm just another person;
who needs the help of glasses
Media's interpretation has ruined this too,
to profit their theatrical farces
This is not an appraisal piece
for the object that makes us see well
This is a shoutout to those,
who feel pressurized by this societal shell
To define beauty may be complex,
but it should not be controlled by someone's interest
You're beautiful the way you are,
to have you the world is truly blessed
girl gonzo Apr 15
i'm standing pale legged at the video store
the Friday's all coming to meet at this exact location
like a montage ready to collect and gather information
and then parting ways, moving into the local subways
crossing the veins of the city in vain waiting for an optimal stop
that allows them to step off into the sunlight
and greet fate standing under the crowded street light
ushering an invitation with sweaty hands as they collapse fully drenched

I can feel the air conditioning escaping the room
can tell from the way people are passing by, that this pause won't keep and I inch towards the old case that holds the movie Thirteen  
the girls with the studded tongues stare back at me and I am a mutant, unrecognizable in that gaze but still there's something that makes me bite my fingernails like trying to de-understand
the floor is gum stained and the lights are so neon I think I can fall in love forever
my shoelace is untied and the man behind the restricted area with the dark curtains coughs twice and I think
that the aisles continue even after you leave
a note on certain properties
Terry Collett Jun 23
Hodge, the skinny kid
from junior school,
was playing conkers with me
in the playground.

The playground had once
been a cellar
of a bombed out house
at the back of the school.

He held his conker
between fingers
ready to strike mine,
which I held
from a black shoelace.

On his first attempt
he had hit mine
so that it spun
around my hand.

I hit his on my turn,
but it remained intact.

Hurley and a crony of his
came over
and stood watching.

You're like a skeleton,
Hodge,
with a layer of skin over it,
Hurley said;
his crony laughed.

Hodge hesitated
and held his conker at bay.

If you look behind you,
Hurley, you'll find
your backside;
why don't you crawl back
where you came from,
Hodge said.

Hurley stared at him;
his crony rubbed his fist.

I put my conker
behind my back.

Hurley grabbed Hodge
by his jacket
and punched him
in the groin.

Hodge bent over
groaning,
his conker
hit the floor.

The crony picked it up
and pocketed it.

Hurley went
to punch him again,
but I pushed him back,
and he bumped
into the crony.

A crowd gathered
and a chanting of:
Fight fight fight.

I spun my conker
around me.

Hurley and the crony
waited for a chance
to come for me.

Hodge came in
with his skinny fists flying
and caught Hurley with one
on the side of his head.

There was a tumble
of fists and thumps.

Hodge went down,
but perfects came
through the crowd,
and broke the fight up.

We were marched
to the head master
through the crowd of kids.

My best conker
was lost somewhere
with the attached
black lace.

Hurley had a red mark
on his puffy face.
School boys in London in 1957
Arduino Mar 11
I hope you always have an itch but no nails

I hope you always jjjuuuust miss every sale

I hope you never make enough to go all out

And I hope every night you dream about how your teeth fall out

I hope you always have to use a charger at a weird angle

A rock in both your shoes and sand in your sandals

I hope it pours when you go outside
Because
the AC broke inside
Plus you got left by your ride
And your phone just died
And that charger just decided it won't charge anymore

I hope when your lonely the only knock is a cop at the door

And I hope you never find the right size at a store

I hope they always get your order wrong

And over charge you plus give the wrong change back that you spill a soda on

I hope you always leave extra early and still catch traffic

I hope all your lighters get stolen and can't use a matchstick

I hope you always stub your toe
As your car gets towed, and your crows feet grow

I hope your always thirsty with no water

But when you get it every sip just gets hotter

I hope the shoelace in your hoodie is always lost in the middle
And the zipper gets caught and you always struggle a little

I hope you always get a hair in your meals

I hope you get so sunburnt that it burns til you peel

I hope you never have reception or get a station
And always get in to fights over simple miscommunications

I hope you're always under dressed, unless you're over dressed
And stain all your clothes
So in the end you're still a mess

I hope you never know that I've just rapped this for you

So you go on living life with the unanswered question of why this always happens to you
Go accidentally drop your paycheck in the public toilet.

— The End —