"singling" poems
JIMMY large nose natural hipster totally informed clever funny sincere yet aloof
JOEY tall tan lanky physique long thick brown hair in braid striking good looks yet self-unaware
SHANNON athletic build attractive brunette accomplished poet so good she doesn’t need to prove it emotional sensitive tough
ANNE Joni Mitchell good looks bohemian self-effacing impulsive submissive *****
ACT 1 scene 1
a deserted chic indie reception area somewhere present 8:30 PM
JIMMY (singling out Anne) you’re so beautiful i want you so bad
ANNE oh yeah you’re sweet to say that
JIMMY i mean it you symbolize hope inspiration in me
ANNE hope? oh god
Anne looks away runs fingers through her hair
JIMMY hear that song over the speakers?
ANNE yeah
JIMMY it’s “Home” Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeroes very cool check out rough trade east version on youtube
ANNE yeah right
Anne blows air out her nose looks away in Shannon’s direction
SHANNON (singling out Joey) do you read?
JOEY yeah some
SHANNON what are you currently reading?
JOEY uh a text about economic international relations
SHANNON hmmm interesting do you ever read literature or poetry?
JOEY nah not much
SHANNON like movies?
JOEY yeah sure some
SHANNON what’s you’re favorite movies?
JOEY “The Devil Wore Prada” “Eddie” “I’m Not There” i don’t know there are tons of movies i enjoy
SHANNON interesting
JOEY i need to ask Jimmy something excuse me
Joey walks across area to Jimmy
JOEY that western shirt looks so cool on you
JIMMY thanks yeah it’s a hip shirt what up dude?
JOEY oh god Shannon is hitting on me she’s way too full of herself way too available
JIMMY hmmm nice toned body bet she’s a tiger in the hay
JOEY not interested
JIMMY me neither but i could be persuaded honestly i’m blown away with Anne
Anne approaches Shannon
ANNE Jimmy is a conceited **** he thinks he’s so cool Shannon you look so beautiful this evening your hair complexion
SHANNON funny I felt so blah all day what did Jimmy say to you? he’s not my type but not so bad if only he had Joey’s looks Joey’s shy sweetness look at Joey over there his eyes lips he’s so **** I think I’m falling in love and yet i recognize falling in love requires a huge territory of untried tolerance
Anne’s fingers stealthily pocket Shannon’s tortoise-shell comb while Shannon observes Joey fawning over Jimmie across room
ACT 2
refer to ACT 1 scene 1
Jul 3, 2010
Jul 3, 2010 at 6:15 AM UTC
We played blackjack taco until the early mourning sun singed the obsidian sky into submission
singling the onslaught of dawn rising like ravishing wildfire over a horizon of jagged glacier crafted mountains peaked with diamonds coal and gold
We flipped stacks and stacked flips
Pushed coins and collected IOUs
Spilled ink and broke pens
Too many hours in the Night Jazzing about youth and the repercussions of aging in a time when aging was an agonizing sin we cured with creams and needles
The table was deliberately a mess with scattered tea leaves half smoked sticky icky sticks full of inspired inspirations, drained drank empty wine bottles and other alcoholic deviances, and incoherent ramblings cauterizing the senses
uncompleted poems full of scribbled and scratched out words poke out from anyplace not covered by crumpled origami cash resting like a weird paper green zoo of swans frogs and paper airplanes.
The suns rays manage to find that one area in between the window shades and curtains to shine brilliantly into our darkly kept stygian tomb
Illuminating a night of lexicon ****** broken handed betting, and passion only poets and writers aspire to conquer
We rubbed out our sleepless crusted eyes and gathered our ink stains and haunted dreams and left into the morning that we found in some skeletol low rent motel room on the side of this deserted desert highway...
Jul 11, 2012
Jul 11, 2012 at 7:54 AM UTC
*In the crowded platform
he sure was the dancing peacock
in his heart was blowing a storm
he feigned though looking at the station clock.*
Not the clock he was eying that one lovely girl
her face storm gatherer like her hair's black curl
he blushed every time she would catch his eyes
stealing her a look in indifference's disguise.
He was within enjoying this farcical foreplay
didn't know her train his was an hour away
imagined she too was singling him out
from the flock of men his contenders no doubt.
Did a wispy smile float on her cherry lip
few moments' encounter could it be that deep
still in his wondrous thought the girl he did own
on that absurd stage for her his love was grown.
One could not tell what was going within her
her eyes were they touched shone there a star
was she too mindful of him held him once in gaze
or her mind was too far away on a different page.
The hour passed quick in the young man's trance
between changing trains with the peacock's dance
when chugged in her train flew away the butterfly
the whistles of his train drowned his rending sigh.
May 18, 2014
May 18, 2014 at 3:39 AM UTC
The roaring sea collides on the rocky shores
As we watch
From heights above
Inside the lighthouse
Between us stands a cool breeze of harmony
Wondering
To take this relationship further
Perfect are we
A bond so unbreakable
Eternity carrying
As hearts renew
Our words be timeless
Lifelines singling out
To someone not true
Deception
Is a honey bee sting
Flavoring a taste
So souring to be turned out
Enviable confinement
A query so embracing, I rather not
Who else
Can interchange a dominance of passion
Sep 8, 2009
Sep 8, 2009 at 9:03 AM UTC
Her excited nerves are tingling
He met her on the sanded pier
Their hungry hearts are mingling
His pocket keys are jingling
He carries good luck everywhere
Her excited nerves are tingling
While they sipped cups of singling
He said words she wanted to hear
Their hungry hearts are mingling
They danced and went swingling
Everyone saw both of them there
Her excited nerves are tingling
He bent low, whispering, ingling
Silencing all of her lingering fear
Their hungry hearts are mingling
Today, their lives are commingling
It's a truth they can't wait to share
Her excited nerves are tingling
Their hungry hearts are mingling.
Oct 28, 2015
Oct 28, 2015 at 1:51 PM UTC
When you are working on that really important history project, before you can even begin, there is always that one person who asks: "So how much is this worth? How much will this count towards our mark?"
Ugh. Welcome to the Bauer state of mind everybody!
All that matters in life is how successful you are. And as long as your average is a constant 100%, you do not need to worry about anything else.
What a life huh?
These people are the perfect people for office job life. Nothing but numbers, no life, no soul.
Nothing else matters to them.
And singling these people out in high school is the saddest thing, and the most hilarious thing I've done.
Because these people brag at 100% and cry at 99%.
Wait, what?!
How can you not be satisfied with anything less than overdoing it?
I mean, you go on and live your life.
But I'll stay here with a more than satisfactory 85%.
I can work with that.
Apr 20, 2017
Apr 20, 2017 at 8:43 PM UTC
What distinct dysfunction
Braided with wet, sickly kisses
It's amazing how they betray
Every sense of apprehension
Like a cracked, over baked
Homemade cookie
Inviting on the surface
With burnt underbelly
So the noon hour finds me
Seeking sweetness from establishments
Particularly named to suggest
A better reality lies in their arms
The rain can't let up now
It's fallen too strong, too long
Perhaps my tale follows suit
Let me contemplate over coffee, twelve sugars
My greed comes through the back
I recognize the sleight!
Singling it out without mercy
Generosity dressed in trickery
On this day, and those to come
I might stop to hold my tongue
To let the reminder settle & sink
Sing never for the sake of rewards
Oct 8, 2013
Oct 8, 2013 at 8:54 PM UTC
I walk the blackened cobbled street
The click and clack of uncertain feet
Stroll under yellowed lights over head
Singling me in a spotlight.
Ancient boughs strain under weight
Of springtime blooms in middle-may
The scent wafts down on every leaf
They color the ground with white and green.
White and green against grim tones
A contrast laid to set rebellion
A beauty, bowing down with beast
To waltz around life’s center stage.
Oct 21, 2010
Oct 21, 2010 at 11:05 AM UTC
Unimaginable torture and sorrow engulfs our minds,
We lead ourselves astray from the road less taken,
Afraid of what can happen,
This is how you make your fate,
Singling out the wise and murdering the ignorant,
Those in power abuse,
Those who are weak lose,
Darwin called this 'Survival of the Fittest',
I call this hell,
Men on TV in suits talk about obstacles they have never endured,
pain they've never felt.
For they commute back to therir no worry paradise while we struggle,
STRUGGLE- hmmm almost sounds amusing,
We are conceived, we learn, and we fade.
No one remembers us on days of no importance.
This is America, land of the free, home of the brave,
Home.
Four letter word meaning place of comfort,
But is it truly?
We live, laugh, and love.
We fight for our lives,
Stand up for liberty,
And pursue happiness,
yet that happiness comes with a final price.
Death.
Aug 25, 2010
Aug 25, 2010 at 4:59 PM UTC
I departed.
After singling out necessities and throwing out electronic extremities that tied me down like a social slave, I took two feet to the mountains of the world. Here I eat fresh food and observe the cities and the backdrop clouds that hold the sky. Philosophies of the mind run rampant here and this is where all my ideas stem from, as far as I have convinced myself. Sometimes, in the long months alone, I awake in the midst of expanding darkness and notice the silence. This is what I wanted to write about. The silence that exists in the solitude of being. Where no yearning is experienced, just a full, keen awareness. What is the importance of this time, I wish I knew. What I've wanted to communicate might have been plain to see.
Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 2:29 AM UTC
you tossed
your answer
at me
cool
and casually.
even the
way you
tell me
no
invokes images
of god
blessing me.
singling
me out
among the rats nashing
their teeth.
I adore
your voice
It is
a song
for my
soul.
Sep 26, 2013
Sep 26, 2013 at 5:19 PM UTC
Calm and pleasant,
drifts on
the misty glow,
of our
hands holding
rocking
chairs squeaking a melody
together.
It was a long day ago
singling each other out,
when we sought, together,
this crimson sunset,
this inner
calm, this pleasant
plan.
Hand in hand,
believing in our
determination to be here this day,
this night together,
so long ago. Remember,
with me, as
we sit in these
old squeaking rockers
in night glows.
Oct 1, 2014
Oct 1, 2014 at 1:38 AM UTC
Sadness has always been a legacy of the past, but isn't that because we dwell on it too much?
Over trivial matters, our minds will become restless, we'll lose sleep - only to find ourselves in a worse case than what we were in before. We rewind those fragments of conversations and utter them, singling out every little detail, recalling our emotions and feelings, recreating that scene once more...over a million times we'll try but that's never how the real conversation will go, is it? It will be an example of your yet to come worst case scenario. Anticipation will sink in and you'll find yourself contorted with a dilemma, segregating your brain from your heart. This is where the logic doesn't kick in. For the brain knows what's best, yet the heart knows how it will content you. In the end, whatever twisted decision you have to make, you have to live with it. For regrets are simply the pains of the memory. It's intriguing how certain memories have the ability to control your emotions, your life today as you know it. They force you to feel sadness, worthlessness, hatred, resentment, anger - yet can be thwarted to make you feel content, proud, happy, special and can lift your mood in an instant. See, that's why these 'memories' make us smile in the middle of troubled times to provide us with hope that everything happens for a reason. Which it does, which is why dwelling on the past isn't giving us the ability to face our tomorrow, it's merely steering us away from it. For instance, if you tell a joke, people will laugh; as you continue telling this joke again and again, few people will continue to laugh, until everyone stops. If we can't laugh at the same thing over and over again, why do we spend our nights crying over the same things over and over again? Leave behind the dwellings and live life with no regrets. ✌
Jan 25, 2014
Jan 25, 2014 at 4:35 AM UTC
Fatso
You are and you aren’t
Whale
You are more than the labels they give you
Cow
It’s over now
Their insults cannot hurt you
Giant
You are not in middle school anymore
Ugly
They cannot hurt you anymore
Lard
You are a grown-ass woman
almost thirty,
unapologetically queer, hairy,
with curves and ******* and wide hips and pretty dips and
They cannot cypher their words,
syphon their insults by
relating you to a beautiful big creature
Cow, Whale, Lard, Fatso
What is a Lard but a singling
A bright beige soft nosed creature
with brownie eyes and long lashes
like a taper with a hooked nose
soft and long like an elephants
Flappy points of ears
that hear well
with tiny sharp teeth
like a land-locked manatee
or a furry caramel Beluga whale
Their insults only refer you to necessary creatures who give their life to feed you and their intellect to empower you
A Fatso is a bright blue animal that has shimmering rainbow wings (like a dragon) and thin curly white horns and milky grey eyes with a fabulous feathers and a fanned tail of royal purple that soars through the skit at light-speed and can bring the rain with its melodious cries
When they or you or they or you or
They are you you know
Insult you they are not insulting you
because a Lard and a Fatso are both such intelligent creatures
mystical and fervent
glorious and gargantuan
Large, yes
But beautiful all the same
They have sharp teeth and move through the earth or skies whenever and wherever they like
These animals have freedom
Just like how you have freedom
in how you think about yourself
which is
to think of yourself as
the sexist, prettiest, cutest
person alive
now isn’t that great?
now isn’t that grand?
You are gold plated and steel incorporated and glass blown and light shadows thrown and haggling heights and shaved delights and a hairy symphony and a harrowing city of sparkles that twinkle in the night.
You are beautiful
and might
just
save the world one day.
You are a mystical creature of the highest creed
and no one
can tell you
otherwise.
Feb 10, 2021
Feb 10, 2021 at 9:30 PM UTC
How long must we travel
Down this troubled road
Singling out people
That we should forebode
Because they’re dangerous
Or so that’s what we’re told
Cuz they have different beliefs
That the rest of us don’t hold
I’ve always been told
That we’re a melting ***
But if I might be so bold
The truth is that we’re not
And we’re not all equal
The way that we’ve been taught
When everybody doesn’t
Get an equal shot
There are those promoting
Separation and hate
And it’s well worth noting
The masses who relate
So few move the pieces
To bring about checkmate
So acrimony increases
And the hour's getting late
Those who have the need
To feel superior
By watching others bleed
In fact feel inferior
Although they might succeed
In ripping at our interior
Because they do indeed
Create such mass hysteria
Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2016. All rights reserved.
Jan 12, 2016
Jan 12, 2016 at 4:13 PM UTC
As is my usual practice prior to the beginning of the holidays season from about Thanksgiving and up through Christmas and all other holiday's of everyone's politically correct choice. Now I am not singling out, just the fact, that I respect them all and to old to know all there names.
So to get to the point of my banter. I watch a selection of holiday movies over a number of weeks. The time came round where the selection of the day, was the original, “Miracle On 34th Street”, with little Natalie Wood.
I tipped back my chair as the show started to play. As the credits rolled I was like thinking, I love this movie. But after a bit my mind kicked in and the softness began to firm. The thought that came to the front of my thoughts, I actually slept through the show and entire plot.
My thoughts were filled with beautiful Christmas thoughts of bells ringing and an angel gets it's wings. I heard the show as it played away in my sleep and my mind recalled all the previous views of the show over the years. I considered watching it again, but surprisingly I feel quite content.
Dec 18, 2015
Dec 18, 2015 at 11:08 PM UTC
It's cold and it's damp
I
need a key to unlock the cramp in my knees,
my fingers are tingling.
I think that God is
singling me out
for
punishment.
Nov 26, 2014
Nov 26, 2014 at 6:09 AM UTC
I let go of train of thought when I notice a person getting caught, and abused by another person in the form of cursing or some sort to have that person feel distort....and after that person is abused...and used to amuse...suicide becomes their last resort....word weapons are such a discretion...
Stop the Word Weapons...Stop the Word Weapons...Stop the words weapons that are being used more than machinery...it gives people a reason to start swinging in a violent matter...after that word weapon's egged on chit chatter....
I let go of train of thought when i notice a group of people circling another person...laughing...and giggling...pointing...and singling out one after another...while he or she is crying...like a bullet hit deep...signs of that person's pride dieing...now rendered weak...unable to speak...misjudgement of character...like a book chapter missing....someone should say something but they act like they're not listening...
Stop the Word Weapons...Stop the Word Weapons....Stop the Word Weapons....stop the reason for violent discretion...stop the judging...stop the pushing...and shoving...stop saying nothing...let the abused's pride be rebuilt inside...let the weak speak....let the shamed look up to the sky...let the quite unable to speak stop being shy...be strong instead of weak...laugh instead of cry....we all are people...we have feelings that are equal...no matter the color...let us listen to our mother when they have said...to treat others like we want to be treated...smile when being greeted...cool off when you are heated...look with a smile instead of a frown...cause our father who art in heaven is looking down...wondering if we are lost...and can't be found...
United We Stand...Divided We Fall
-Peter T. DeSpirito
Nov 21, 2019
Nov 21, 2019 at 10:50 AM UTC
as the frames wound down,
singling and singling out...
becoming uncomfortable
with our dance--you began
to forget how to move with me.
losing your commitment to the
necessary motions.
~Thus~
i offer you a volatile twirl, readily
volunteering to be a bad dancer.
so our leave may be taken of one
another.
Dec 20, 2019
Dec 20, 2019 at 12:55 PM UTC
Black and White
I am white
or am I Black?
what really confines that?
should I vote for Donald Trump, or Hillary Clinton
but the question is what really am I missing?
Should we build a wall and kick all the Mexicans out?
or what about isis? tell me, Do you think its right for them to **** the Americans?
We are home of the free, the land that will be
fighting for our safety and the right to flee
if I cannot walk outside without getting shot
then I might as well not walk up the block
African Americans say black lifes matter
but dont all lifes matter?
You complain about the KKK but what about the black panthers? are these really answers?
cant we all just get along? before we all die alone? This isn't about racism this is about fact
you cant delete history but you try that
you vandalize national monuments in hope to spread the word but all your doing is looking absurd.
Im not singling out anyone
even what the whites have done
with their tiki torches held up high
thinking that can get by
chanting chanting chanting words of disgust
one day they will all give up
Aug 27, 2017
Aug 27, 2017 at 11:06 PM UTC