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"shoelaces" poems
while september cicadas were singing my neighbors to sleep i was up walking holes in my shoes over love once lost so many poems ago that the only thing i remember about the house at 38th & bluestone is that it reeked of alcohol and is as i'm sure of it still saturated in perfume and abandoned laughter but that's not the point give me a minute what i'm trying to say is i always thought god enjoyed watching things leave me it makes me wonder what was on his mind that night in september when i stooped to cough or tie my shoelaces i no longer remember why but i recall their trajectory the way gravity cradled my hands and brought them crashing back to earth like a 747 they landed inches away from a scrap of crumpled loose leaf folded in half like the smiles of my relatives on a holiday truce you see, lately i've been looking for scars in the newspaper i find myself checking the obituary for my former selves since the day i found your suicide letter maybe that's why i can never explain my obsession with history maybe archeology is just a funeral in reverse maybe hell is just rewinding home movies or watching confetti turn back into photographs i never told anyone the reason the doors to the gun cabinet in my family's house are locked not because they are afraid i will take my life but because sometimes i sing them birthday songs on the day you died it makes me think of how rooms only echo when they are empty *you know i never echoed until you died*
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Jun 6, 2014
Jun 6, 2014 at 2:56 AM UTC
seance
happiness...is everything. Happiness isnt based on money and sometimes not even on what you're doing. Its about who your with. its about living with no regrets And realising that a bad thing will last a few months, so who cares if he doesnt ask you out? who cares what your parents catch doing with the one who does? and who cares what anyone says about you. Happiness is taking a risk and it pays off and even if it doesnt another oppurtunity presents itself. happiness is staying up all night with your frends. happiness is water fights on late summer evenings. happiness is love....lust only gives moments of happiness to the fact you cant believe you have that person...love leaves you eternally in wonder of how you ended up feeling so right. happiness is being with your friends and wearing crazy *** hats in public happiness is seeing a familiar face in nevr ending sea of lies. happiness is no homework happiness is having tickle fights with the one you love happiness is lying in the sun looking at the clouds happiness is doing wat you want to do happiness is helping one another happiness if giving all of you no matter how much you recieve in return happiness is being able to speak your mind happiness is knowing you have earnt all the praise you get and being able to say thank you...not going red, studying your shoelaces and bringing yourself down happiness is confidence happiness is working hard for something happiness is being wateva you want and not caring what anyone says...you only get to live once..you will nevr live it down if you're on your deathbed and you realise that you've spent your whole life being what everyone else wanted you to be. living a lie happiness is finding out who you are happiness is coming home and your parents ask you how your day was...evn if u jst grunt back happiness is singing in the shower as loud as you can...i mean showers hav that magical power that means no-one else can hear you...rite? happiness is not being afraid to say someone is hot...it makes u all giggly...saying someone is good looking doesnt neccessarily mean you want them happiness is feeling safe happiness is feeling wanted happiness is feeling at peace with yourself happiness is feeling that someone always has your back happiness is when something isnt funny..but your so happy to see someone that u cant stop smiling happiness is that one thing you can nevr really express to someone...its like a drug, it makes you do crazy things...its make you feel ontop of the world. this made me happy knowing that peopl will read this and feel happy it made me happy because i made a good attempt to describe something that can nevr be completely decribed. happiness is the one thing that keeps you going when you're like the single flowers whose colours hav turned to shades of grey i cant explain this happiness
0
Jun 19, 2019
Jun 19, 2019 at 11:17 AM UTC
Happiness
happiness...is everything. Happiness isnt based on money and sometimes not even on what you're doing. Its about who your with. its about living with no regrets And realising that a bad thing will last a few months, so who cares if he doesnt ask you out? who cares what your parents catch doing with the one who does? and who cares what anyone says about you. Happiness is taking a risk and it pays off and even if it doesnt another oppurtunity presents itself. happiness is staying up all night with your frends. happiness is water fights on late summer evenings. happiness is love....lust only gives moments of happiness to the fact you cant believe you have that person...love leaves you eternally in wonder of how you ended up feeling so right. happiness is being with your friends and wearing crazy *** hats in public happiness is seeing a familiar face in nevr ending sea of lies. happiness is no homework happiness is having tickle fights with the one you love happiness is lying in the sun looking at the clouds happiness is doing wat you want to do happiness is helping one another happiness if giving all of you no matter how much you recieve in return happiness is being able to speak your mind happiness is knowing you have earnt all the praise you get and being able to say thank you...not going red, studying your shoelaces and bringing yourself down happiness is confidence happiness is working hard for something happiness is being wateva you want and not caring what anyone says...you only get to live once..you will nevr live it down if you're on your deathbed and you realise that you've spent your whole life being what everyone else wanted you to be. living a lie happiness is finding out who you are happiness is coming home and your parents ask you how your day was...evn if u jst grunt back happiness is singing in the shower as loud as you can...i mean showers hav that magical power that means no-one else can hear you...rite? happiness is not being afraid to say someone is hot...it makes u all giggly...saying someone is good looking doesnt neccessarily mean you want them happiness is feeling safe happiness is feeling wanted happiness is feeling at peace with yourself happiness is feeling that someone always has your back happiness is when something isnt funny..but your so happy to see someone that u cant stop smiling happiness is that one thing you can nevr really express to someone...its like a drug, it makes you do crazy things...its make you feel ontop of the world. this made me happy knowing that peopl will read this and feel happy it made me happy because i made a good attempt to describe something that can nevr be completely decribed. happiness is the one thing that keeps you going when you're like the single flowers whose colours hav turned to shades of grey i cant explain this happiness
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37
Sitting on my bed Gazing out at the view Laptop in lap I wonder Being of mixed race The truth of my origins The blood coursing through my veins Goffle they would say But iv always believed a man's skin colour doesn't define who he is Kwabulawayo A place where he is being killed Home of the Ndebele My hometown Built on the ruins of a Royal town uMzilikazi ,Leander Starr Jameson ,Lobengula ,Cecil john rhodes Men of courage Black and white Fought struggles Years before my birth Mater Dei Hospital My journeys beginning My grandfathers end. Joy and pain My hearts memories From Primary Whitestone Green fields Where i spent my childhood Life's little joys Clay-yaki In the rain Barefoot. Speargrass How it stung Running through the grass Taller than i was Forts Built with shoelaces Marbles Fights in the sand Afternoons spent picking mullberyys The girls dormitory Offbounds. Matrons Got me the cain Thursday Nights Prefects Priveleges Sports Cross country The houses of Tuli, Shangani, Shashe lifelong friends made A place frozen in memory Home of the best years of my life Tears streaming down Every Sunday evening The way back A boarders sentiment Lasting 5min till reunited with friends Tuck shared Eskimo Hut The Green Mamba Or Pink Panther The food hall Quiet Till dessert came Mr Haworth Everyday "The queen would be disgusted if she saw u eating" The tide of his time Wandering around my childhood I bumped unintentionally into Maturity Starless nights First kisses A little bit older i was
0
Aug 21, 2010
Aug 21, 2010 at 8:34 AM UTC
Hometown
Sitting on my bed Gazing out at the view Laptop in lap I wonder Being of mixed race The truth of my origins The blood coursing through my veins Goffle they would say But iv always believed a man's skin colour doesn't define who he is Kwabulawayo A place where he is being killed Home of the Ndebele My hometown Built on the ruins of a Royal town uMzilikazi ,Leander Starr Jameson ,Lobengula ,Cecil john rhodes Men of courage Black and white Fought struggles Years before my birth Mater Dei Hospital My journeys beginning My grandfathers end. Joy and pain My hearts memories From Primary Whitestone Green fields Where i spent my childhood Life's little joys Clay-yaki In the rain Barefoot. Speargrass How it stung Running through the grass Taller than i was Forts Built with shoelaces Marbles Fights in the sand Afternoons spent picking mullberyys The girls dormitory Offbounds. Matrons Got me the cain Thursday Nights Prefects Priveleges Sports Cross country The houses of Tuli, Shangani, Shashe lifelong friends made A place frozen in memory Home of the best years of my life Tears streaming down Every Sunday evening The way back A boarders sentiment Lasting 5min till reunited with friends Tuck shared Eskimo Hut The Green Mamba Or Pink Panther The food hall Quiet Till dessert came Mr Haworth Everyday "The queen would be disgusted if she saw u eating" The tide of his time Wandering around my childhood I bumped unintentionally into Maturity Starless nights First kisses A little bit older i was
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74
The way he looks at her and she looks at him makes love look so effortless. He doesn’t even notice how he is leaning in – towards her. And how her arm is intertwined around his so tightly; with such a devoted glint of comfort and familiarity. I hope you're on the same train. Making the aftermath of falling easy, the complexity simply luminescent. Almost allowing me to feel light. My heart had its fair share of lightness, brightness – heavy now but the smiles, the laughter; It makes me feel as if perhaps that is what I yearn for in The End. But will I ever find happiness if I'm overflowing with joy? Because the Melancholy of a platform sliding out-of-mind, with You standing there debating the tangles in your shoelaces warms up my equally tangled, Masochistic heart. Because that is not granted for me (us). Not the handholding nor the scent of your hair when it’s 5 a.m. and your arms are knotted around my waist and we waste the day, the days, days in my bed. Oh, yes (please). No. I can't get that. I remind myself: "I don't need that." I step onto the platform. I mind the gap. I dare do much But I cannot dare to trip, stumble, and fall. For You. (I already have.)
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Feb 27, 2017
Feb 27, 2017 at 8:59 PM UTC
Calling at York
That small man who always sang That small man who danced in my head That small man with youth Undid his shoelaces And broke all the barracks of the festival Suddenly everything collapsed And in the silence of the festival In the ruin of the festival I heard your happy voice Your voice so torn and fragile Innocent and desolate Came from afar and called me And I put my hands on my chest where they trembled ****** Seven broken pieces of mirror with your twinkling smile
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10.8k
Broken Mirror
Oh yes! I had plans to woo you with roses and chocolates and other mushy make-up that might just rev up your fireworks Yet I knew deep inside it wouldn't work so well. So jugular it was condoms and plastic roses knotted in shoelaces painted and welded on a metal frame worded: I will take you to take me: Now! But you laughed and blew the condoms into balloons and spray painted the roses in silver and I used the shoelaces to hang my head in creative shame! Yet when we met on the deck of union for the first time the sparks lit up the nightsky and we slept curled up around each other like question marks Thats how we bought tickets to forever Crazy? I waited-you came! Author Notes Most enjoyable poem today. © Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, 2 months ago
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Jun 30, 2014
Jun 30, 2014 at 5:09 PM UTC
Jaguar Jugular
i've made a home out of untied shoelaces in the morning and crowded bedrooms filled with smoke and laughter
0
Jun 21, 2014
Jun 21, 2014 at 6:57 PM UTC
adolescence
Genderless with scraped knees and A lipstick crush on one who bore the same name as me Uncut brown hair untouched by bleach and Stealing kisses from my best friend while my parents lied asleep Lying in the grass with a picture book on faeries Listening to the wind whistle through our dying trees Jumping on the bed with my ***** and my bubby Giggling hand over mouth when my mother called him "hubby" Daisy chains and he loves me nots Unbrushed teeth beginning to rot ***** shoes and ***** shoelaces Visiting imagined places Pink striped socks and a skirt to mismatch Waiting for robins eggs to fall or to hatch O, to be a child and to live within a dream To lie awake at ten past eight, imagination like a stream
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Mar 9, 2017
Mar 9, 2017 at 9:31 AM UTC
O, to be a Child
"I knew this girl once, she had long hair, so long it whispered tiny kisses along her hips and waist she had the oddest bluest eyes i'd ever seen, the color of the sky right before it gets completely dark her thick, long eyelashes framed those eyes, and freckles formed constellations across her cheeks i could almost draw the big dipper and Orion's belt on her milky white face. She didn't know i existed but i admired her from afar. I could tell she was educated- She always had some form of poetry in her hand. But of all the things i could have noticed about her i noticed her bookmarks. She would lose them all the time, i would see her chasing after the scraps of paper as they flew through the wind down the street. She'd stick anything in between those pages, wrappers of all sorts, leaves, pennies, shoelaces, once i even saw a page ripped from a different book. It became my favorite game to guess what the next bookmark would be. After awhile she stopped chasing the various bookmarks across the city and she cut all that long hair off, then awhile after that she started using unoriginal, uninspired plain old bookmarks.Then even awhile that she stopped bringing books altogether, until one day she didn't show up. Nobody knew that beautiful, mysterious, bookmark making girl was locked up inside her own mind. Nobody knew she hated her long hair and her freckles and even those baby blues. Nobody knew that she couldn't stand to live in her skin anymore so much that she swallowed a couple pills one night to ease away the pain. Even worse was she didn't know i watched her for so long and thought she was the most interesting human being i'd ever encountered. That girl committed suicide because she hated herself learn from her mistake, my mistake, everyone who ever noticed her bookmarks mistake, and don't do this, don't off yourself with a .45 before you've even had a chance to live" he's desperate now "please please you don't have to do this" he sputters I answer simply " I never was much of a bookmark girl, i always dog-eared my pages" bang
0
Nov 6, 2013
Nov 6, 2013 at 6:35 PM UTC
whats your bookmark
"I knew this girl once, she had long hair, so long it whispered tiny kisses along her hips and waist she had the oddest bluest eyes i'd ever seen, the color of the sky right before it gets completely dark her thick, long eyelashes framed those eyes, and freckles formed constellations across her cheeks i could almost draw the big dipper and Orion's belt on her milky white face. She didn't know i existed but i admired her from afar. I could tell she was educated- She always had some form of poetry in her hand. But of all the things i could have noticed about her i noticed her bookmarks. She would lose them all the time, i would see her chasing after the scraps of paper as they flew through the wind down the street. She'd stick anything in between those pages, wrappers of all sorts, leaves, pennies, shoelaces, once i even saw a page ripped from a different book. It became my favorite game to guess what the next bookmark would be. After awhile she stopped chasing the various bookmarks across the city and she cut all that long hair off, then awhile after that she started using unoriginal, uninspired plain old bookmarks.Then even awhile that she stopped bringing books altogether, until one day she didn't show up. Nobody knew that beautiful, mysterious, bookmark making girl was locked up inside her own mind. Nobody knew she hated her long hair and her freckles and even those baby blues. Nobody knew that she couldn't stand to live in her skin anymore so much that she swallowed a couple pills one night to ease away the pain. Even worse was she didn't know i watched her for so long and thought she was the most interesting human being i'd ever encountered. That girl committed suicide because she hated herself learn from her mistake, my mistake, everyone who ever noticed her bookmarks mistake, and don't do this, don't off yourself with a .45 before you've even had a chance to live" he's desperate now "please please you don't have to do this" he sputters I answer simply " I never was much of a bookmark girl, i always dog-eared my pages" bang
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9
it's not the large things that send a man to the madhouse a woman, a tire that's flat, a disease, a desire: fears in front of you, fears that hold so still you can study them like pieces on a chessboard... it's not the large things that send a man to the madhouse. death he's ready for, or ****** ****** robbery, fire, flood... no, it's the continuing series of small tragedies that send a man to the madhouse... not the death of his love but a shoelace that snaps with no time left ... The dread of life is that swarm of trivialities that can **** quicker than cancer and which are always there - license plates or taxes or expired driver's license, or hiring or firing, doing it or having it done to you, or roaches or flies or a broken hook on a screen, or out of gas or too much gas, the sink's stopped-up, the landlord's drunk, the president doesn't care and the governor's crazy. light switch broken, mattress like a porcupine; $105 for a tune-up, carburetor and fuel pump at sears roebuck; and the phone bill's up and the, market's down and the toilet chain is broken, and the light has burned out - the hall light, the front light, the back light, the inner light; it's darker than hell and twice as expensive. then there's always ***** and ingrown toenails and people who insist they're your friends; there's always that and worse; leaky faucet, Christ and Christmas; blue salami, 9 day rains, 50 cent avocados and purple liverwurst. or making it as a waitress at norm's on the split shift, or as an emptier of bedpans, or as a car wash or a busboy or a stealer of old lady's purses leaving them screaming on the sidewalks with broken arms at the age of 80. suddenly 2 red lights in your rear view mirror and blood in your underwear; toothache, and $979 for a bridge $300 for a gold tooth, and China and Russia and America, and long hair and short hair and no hair, and beards and no faces, and plenty of zigzag but no *** except maybe one to **** in and the other one around your gut. with each broken shoelace out of one hundred broken shoelaces, one man, one woman, one thing enters a madhouse. so be careful when you bend over.
0
Jun 25, 2015
Jun 25, 2015 at 3:48 PM UTC
the shoelace by Charles Bukowski
it's not the large things that send a man to the madhouse a woman, a tire that's flat, a disease, a desire: fears in front of you, fears that hold so still you can study them like pieces on a chessboard... it's not the large things that send a man to the madhouse. death he's ready for, or ****** ****** robbery, fire, flood... no, it's the continuing series of small tragedies that send a man to the madhouse... not the death of his love but a shoelace that snaps with no time left ... The dread of life is that swarm of trivialities that can **** quicker than cancer and which are always there - license plates or taxes or expired driver's license, or hiring or firing, doing it or having it done to you, or roaches or flies or a broken hook on a screen, or out of gas or too much gas, the sink's stopped-up, the landlord's drunk, the president doesn't care and the governor's crazy. light switch broken, mattress like a porcupine; $105 for a tune-up, carburetor and fuel pump at sears roebuck; and the phone bill's up and the, market's down and the toilet chain is broken, and the light has burned out - the hall light, the front light, the back light, the inner light; it's darker than hell and twice as expensive. then there's always ***** and ingrown toenails and people who insist they're your friends; there's always that and worse; leaky faucet, Christ and Christmas; blue salami, 9 day rains, 50 cent avocados and purple liverwurst. or making it as a waitress at norm's on the split shift, or as an emptier of bedpans, or as a car wash or a busboy or a stealer of old lady's purses leaving them screaming on the sidewalks with broken arms at the age of 80. suddenly 2 red lights in your rear view mirror and blood in your underwear; toothache, and $979 for a bridge $300 for a gold tooth, and China and Russia and America, and long hair and short hair and no hair, and beards and no faces, and plenty of zigzag but no *** except maybe one to **** in and the other one around your gut. with each broken shoelace out of one hundred broken shoelaces, one man, one woman, one thing enters a madhouse. so be careful when you bend over.
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88
By: Cedric McClester It’s a shame And the disgrace is A neon shirt And pink shoelaces Resulted in an act So tasteless That the victim wound up With stitches in some places A neon shirt and pink shoelaces Or acting effeminate If that’s what the case is Physically attacking him Was entirely baseless And sooner or later We all need to face this Why you ask Was he under attack Homophobia And as a matter of fact Though it’s not a case Of white or black The bottom line is It was a hateful act A neon shirt and pink shoelaces Or acting effeminate If that’s what the case is Physically attacking him Was entirely baseless And sooner or later We all need to face this What people do In my point of view Is a matter of personal choice Not up for review Unless it’s hurting others Or causes their rights to Be infringed upon Then ya might wanna sue A neon shirt and pink shoelaces Or acting effeminate If that’s what the case is Physically attacking him Was entirely baseless And sooner or later We all need to face this And here’s the thing That I don’t get How is what he does Considered a threat To anybody else Albeit Even those who object Shouldn’t become upset – cos A neon shirt and pink shoelaces Or acting effeminate If that’s what the case is Physically attacking him Was entirely baseless And sooner or later We all need to face this (c) Copyright 2015, Cedric McClester. All rights reserved.
0
Apr 21, 2015
Apr 21, 2015 at 4:30 PM UTC
A NEON SHIRT AND PINK SHOELACES
The night crawls under my skin Fever delirium laced with heartbreak in the cracks of my chapped lips I let down my walls Now kite drifting away like balloon let go You were the walls of this maze called home fog blanket me into Limbo called fever delirium hot and ***** icecream cone by the fireplace defy the logic cut the shoelaces defy the logic jump and walk on the sky defy gravity Swallow the whole **** ocean Do the impossible Have *** demand icecream for breakfast throw punches in the street Do drugs you don't know what they are what they do how they can hurt you trusting abuse like a unicorn but it's just a horse hear the dragon roar Underneath the bed you make love on your friends are sometimes the monsters Spilling the probation all over the floor Realize he's not sleeping next to you He doesn't love you anymore You can tell she hurts Lives away from home Digs teeth into words like wounds will heal like they are stitches Fall for boy in coffee shop Leave dream boat to pursue reckless thought You give leaves He gives you hope Helps your lighthouse at sea float Secretly as you sleep inside the sun When your lighthouse work is done He paints over the stripes He thinks it is like the love story of your mother and father She is angry with a tiny clustered house with the smell of her smoke filled lungs He paints every room like reversing time But it's all pretend, just men being men Let the leaves burn Steal the words from books Cut them out Cut your heart out And try again
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Nov 4, 2015
Nov 4, 2015 at 1:19 PM UTC
There's Denial in your Matchsticks
The night crawls under my skin Fever delirium laced with heartbreak in the cracks of my chapped lips I let down my walls Now kite drifting away like balloon let go You were the walls of this maze called home fog blanket me into Limbo called fever delirium hot and ***** icecream cone by the fireplace defy the logic cut the shoelaces defy the logic jump and walk on the sky defy gravity Swallow the whole **** ocean Do the impossible Have *** demand icecream for breakfast throw punches in the street Do drugs you don't know what they are what they do how they can hurt you trusting abuse like a unicorn but it's just a horse hear the dragon roar Underneath the bed you make love on your friends are sometimes the monsters Spilling the probation all over the floor Realize he's not sleeping next to you He doesn't love you anymore You can tell she hurts Lives away from home Digs teeth into words like wounds will heal like they are stitches Fall for boy in coffee shop Leave dream boat to pursue reckless thought You give leaves He gives you hope Helps your lighthouse at sea float Secretly as you sleep inside the sun When your lighthouse work is done He paints over the stripes He thinks it is like the love story of your mother and father She is angry with a tiny clustered house with the smell of her smoke filled lungs He paints every room like reversing time But it's all pretend, just men being men Let the leaves burn Steal the words from books Cut them out Cut your heart out And try again
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45
My shoelaces flap side to side like one of those car-dealership inflatables arms- My veiny stompers pump puddles of pure procrastination from perceptive sprinting- Underneath the tune-buds, I cannot hear my sneakers scraping the scrap rocks of gravel- To my left- a hooting owl habitats itself in a hushed game of charades- To my right- a slick tree frog flies freely from a lofty leaf and lands in the lagoon- Elapsed images of elastic languages fill my mind with everlasting wisdom- Entertained by the watercolors, my canvas curdles and secedes the state of mind- Pressing harder- the curtain continues to close as I chase the condescending daylight- Pressing softer- the tuner in my temple turns into a terrorizing shriek from my tibia-
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Nov 20, 2014
Nov 20, 2014 at 3:41 PM UTC
Hindsight
White shoelaces tied carefully, clothes ironed straight, not a strand of hair in his face, private school and Christian home. His momma packed him PB&J.; She said, "Son, don't hang with the wrong kind of kids, the ones sitting in the back of the classroom who wear words on their necks and black every Sunday." And she puts a napkin in his lunchbox and reminds him to wash his hands. And she prays for him to find cleanliness, and she checks the internet history every day while he finishes homework and practices piano. She tells him, "Son, don't let those celebrities with their drugs and their ***** words influence you." And she emphasizes "man shall not lie with man" and not "God loves all His children" and tells him not to let any mud get on his new socks. He sits on the couch and he sits in the audience and he's told what isn't okay. He is raised following predjudices he doesn't agree to, stereotypes engraved deep in his brain to the core. He was never taught any different, he was never educated on differences. He knows a million shades of white but God forbid he touch a blade of glass. He was taught to keep his window locked, head down, eyes shut, mouth closed, hands folded, back straight, shoelaces tied. Momma says, "Son, better keep yourself clean," but she touches him with ***** hands and ties a rope he never wanted around his neck.
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Dec 7, 2013
Dec 7, 2013 at 8:34 PM UTC
Shoelaces
I have imagined this moment over and over again and now it's finally happening and I can't quite tell which direction is up or down or backwards but I guess they're all directions so it really doesn't matter as long as I'm going somewhere. I've been watching my shoelaces as I've been walking and they seem to tighten with every step as though even they know you'll have me floating right out of them. My palms have already begun to sweat and the puddles they've created in my pockets are just deep enough to drown in. I look up for a second to see the air in front of me holding a string. A grin spreads across its face as it suddenly begins to pull and my breath is stolen from my lungs. I reach out to grab it but it has already disappeared and suddenly I realize I can't breathe without you here. I close my eyes and stumble, not wanting to go any further, not wanting to face the reality of a situation that doesn't involve sleeping beside you. But then I realize, that was something we never did. I have been falling asleep beside myself for years, I have been waking up with regret and a heart broken into more pieces then the number of tiles on the bathroom floor. I have been sleeping with my head on my own chest and praying that someday you'd fill the empty space between not being able to fall asleep and never wanting to be awake.
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Oct 30, 2013
Oct 30, 2013 at 2:40 PM UTC
Something We Never Did
'1. List of things that I can no longer be: A Viking A Sorceror True 2. List of things that no longer taste as good: Angel delight Dip dab You 3. List of things I still might do: Stay Leave Get a tattoo 4. List of things I no longer build: Rockets Carts Bridges 5. List of things I will no longer do: Marry Light fires Tie shoelaces 6. List of things I will always know: The scent of your sleeping The lengths of our bodies You and I, touching
0
May 28, 2015
May 28, 2015 at 11:50 AM UTC
Lists
This week, Jesse Herndon has more on her plate than the typical high school student. She has spent hours after school each day making calls, finalizing details for an event happening Sunday. Collecting donated items for an upcoming silent auction. Calling every bakery in Greensboro. “It’s very stressful,” said Herndon, a junior at Weaver Academy. But it’s all for a good cause. She’s organizing an event with free pastries, live music, a fashion show and a silent auction, which will be held at 7 p.m. Sunday night at The Blind Tiger, 1819 Spring Garden Street in Greensboro. Admission is $4 with the donation of clothing of any size. The goal is to collect clothes that would comply with Standard Mode of Dress, or SMOD, the uniforms required at some local schools. The fashion show will feature clothes from Plato’s Closet, Mack and Mack, and Patina Bridal and Formals. The silent auction would include items such as Weaver Academy student artwork and a gift bag full of beauty products valued at about $200. Herdon is still seeking donations of items to auction. The event will benefit Backpack Beginnings, a local organization that provides food and clothing for thousands of local needy children. All 127 Guilford schools have a dress code, but a few dozen require students to wear uniforms. Some parents have complained about the cost of buying the uniforms. They’ve also complained that the uniform dress codes vary from school to school, requiring additional clothes purchases if a child changes schools. Parents and some students also described dress code violations for wearing a jacket with a hood, a logo deemed too large or the wrong color shoelaces. “SMOD is really expensive,” Herdon said. She knows because her sisters have attended SMOD schools. In January, the Guilford County Board of Education unanimously approved changes to its policy on SMOD. Principals of current SMOD schools have until June to survey parents on whether to continue requiring students to wear uniforms in the 2015-16 school year. Now, school administrators at traditional schools also have to get public input before requiring uniforms. Ever two years, traditional schools with SMOD have to reconsider requiring uniforms and demonstrate public support for the policy.Read more here:www.marieaustralia.com/evening-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/bridesmaid-dresses
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Apr 28, 2015
Apr 28, 2015 at 10:42 PM UTC
Weaver student supports local charity with fashion show, silent auction
This week, Jesse Herndon has more on her plate than the typical high school student. She has spent hours after school each day making calls, finalizing details for an event happening Sunday. Collecting donated items for an upcoming silent auction. Calling every bakery in Greensboro. “It’s very stressful,” said Herndon, a junior at Weaver Academy. But it’s all for a good cause. She’s organizing an event with free pastries, live music, a fashion show and a silent auction, which will be held at 7 p.m. Sunday night at The Blind Tiger, 1819 Spring Garden Street in Greensboro. Admission is $4 with the donation of clothing of any size. The goal is to collect clothes that would comply with Standard Mode of Dress, or SMOD, the uniforms required at some local schools. The fashion show will feature clothes from Plato’s Closet, Mack and Mack, and Patina Bridal and Formals. The silent auction would include items such as Weaver Academy student artwork and a gift bag full of beauty products valued at about $200. Herdon is still seeking donations of items to auction. The event will benefit Backpack Beginnings, a local organization that provides food and clothing for thousands of local needy children. All 127 Guilford schools have a dress code, but a few dozen require students to wear uniforms. Some parents have complained about the cost of buying the uniforms. They’ve also complained that the uniform dress codes vary from school to school, requiring additional clothes purchases if a child changes schools. Parents and some students also described dress code violations for wearing a jacket with a hood, a logo deemed too large or the wrong color shoelaces. “SMOD is really expensive,” Herdon said. She knows because her sisters have attended SMOD schools. In January, the Guilford County Board of Education unanimously approved changes to its policy on SMOD. Principals of current SMOD schools have until June to survey parents on whether to continue requiring students to wear uniforms in the 2015-16 school year. Now, school administrators at traditional schools also have to get public input before requiring uniforms. Ever two years, traditional schools with SMOD have to reconsider requiring uniforms and demonstrate public support for the policy.Read more here:www.marieaustralia.com/evening-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/bridesmaid-dresses
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When I was younger, I ran barefoot, Innocent and happy. As I got older, I began wearing shoes, Because that was 'cool' They hurt my feet, And killed my innocence. They drew me to the edge of a cliff And as I walked along it's edge, I tripped over A stupid shoelace, And now I am falling, Dreading hitting the ground, All so I could be 'cool'
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May 26, 2015
May 26, 2015 at 7:28 PM UTC
Stupid Shoelaces
I don’t remember what I had for dinner yesterday I walked out my door forgetting why as I locked it, my shoelaces didn’t tie themselves today like they usually do. Also, I called my friend “Mommy.” But after certain ungodly hours spent between pages: I can spell the names of all those ancient Greek poets and recite the tragic tale of Dido, the Carthagian queen. If asked, I might outline the life cycle of a fern and tell those (few) who want to listen exactly how cells communicate-cascading signals down in a waterfall. I know the ratio in which certain atoms combine, in a dance of mutual benefit and energy. Yet my keys, sitting right there, in front of me, on the desk where they landed five minutes ago, play a hiding game as elusive as that thought which forgotten, tugs at my mind, trying to tell me its name, trying to tell me the terrible truth that I didn’t brush my teeth this morning. Memorizing makes an absent mind.
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May 24, 2012
May 24, 2012 at 12:36 PM UTC
Studying
This pounding in my chest It hurts my love It hurts so much Because my mind well it's decaying And what used to help has stopped Everything has stopped So I need you I need you to do me a favor Take my heart And unravel the veins Like you're untying your shoelaces Then kiss me tenderly Let me close my eyes And weave flowers in my hair (daisies if you can) And tip the mortician so she does a good job on me Then when my body turns cold And my lips are sealed with glue Just know in my final moments I was thinking of you So wipe away your tears and get rid of that frown Cause baby I'll be happiest when I'm in the ground
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Apr 24, 2018
Apr 24, 2018 at 5:01 PM UTC
do me a favor.
the best version of myself exists in clearance-nike-outlet-wear pulling up hair made blonde by the sunshine bending over tanned and strong legs tying shoelaces and laughing musical notes willingly escaping genuine smiles my tummy is strong then, but with soft edges i'm proud because it's held my body together all these years i'm proud because it will carry a mini human someday inside my head there are coloring books sprawled across a playroom factory and all the gears are turning and i'm functioning i'm breathing my heart is beating and i'm not scared of eating girl scout cookies when i'm with my girls in clearance-nike-outlet-wear i'm not scared to let laughs float to the surface or hiccups i'm not scared of anything at all we're real together and we have freckly runner legs that love splashing in the puddles our tears make we're not always gonna be together we are always gonna be real together
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Mar 24, 2015
Mar 24, 2015 at 1:30 PM UTC
why are tennis shoes called tennis shoes even when we aren't playing tennis
On some days, the sky is greyier as if it is shaded in by a 6B pencil. Black as charcoal with a very shaky weak wrist. Everything that passes through chapped & soured bitten-back lips tastes like weak tea. (I think sugar cubes were all eaten.) Oh, your head hurts, aches, like bad bruises from hitting the sharp edge of the table. Cotton bandages and one light kiss above the left eyebrow helps. And your chest is too tight, the kind of feeling from shoelaces knotted hard against your ankles. Use safety scissors.
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Mar 26, 2015
Mar 26, 2015 at 12:37 AM UTC
Pins & Needles
*it is true when we give our blood too much we aid in disempowerment* 1. constant giving in love and providing can set unhealthy-precedent and when it falters in its expected-rhythm ugly-tantrums get thrown, bordering on disrespect 2. demands kick in hard upon trod-floor of insidious-hooks there's always a rider for the other party on tightrope-theatre             some or other condition to feed the monster of excitement             while health straddles some jarring regions             in hostile-spitting strong enough to lance startling-injury shoelaces dripped in hazard-oil over a generational-canyon provides unwanted-fodder for establishing long-term slippage **(no! you weren't raised this way.. where does this stem from?) there has been no failure to show how humans act and speak this is unacceptable)** oh............you want / you want / you want..... all.. the.. time then kick up unholy-storms when there's a break in rhyme *get ye, lad.. go practise your ire on a field                    go throw a stick on the prairie                    go find your path, you're old enough yer insolence plain ***** (I could tell you .. you're rude.. go home, but you already are!) S T - 10 dec 13
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Dec 10, 2013
Dec 10, 2013 at 12:00 PM UTC
disempowerment