Skined poems on Hello Poetry

K Cash-Staley Oct 2013

I have a gift for them.
I should wrap it first.
Blue and gold ribbon
wound tightly to keep contents from overflowing.

I have been preparing their gift
since my birth, gathering the pieces
year after year
trying to connect carefree summer days of youth
with the concern and worry of adults.

Many teachers are on this planet to impart some knowledge to the future generations.
Roy G BIV, Please excuse my dear aunt Sally,
Columbus sailed the ocean blue in .... Yeah, whatever.
Knowledge like this can help children attain their dreams, they say.

I want to give them something else
Inject splices of film from my life into their vision.
Let them see first hand
the memories
Let them see first hand
the mistakes, the recurring nightmares of shame and regret

Take this gift
I see them suffering from their lack of insight,
like death by dehydration
at the river’s edge
I try to make them drink.
Drink up, Drink up this gift.
But their tongues swell with the cotton mouth of youth.
Only mumblings of in-text citation and Shakespeare reach their ears.

They write love poems, sicky sweet lines about prom and how his eyes twinkled like the stars.
“We will be together forever.”
They write adorable break up poems.
I want to tell them to run.
Run because that part only gets worse.
When he pawns your heart for a new leather jacket you were going to sell to buy your childhood back,
Run.
They tell stories about bullies
on the playground.
Broken hearts and skined knees.

Please take this gift., Drink up.
I know how this goes.
None of it makes sense.
We spend 12 years trying to be cookie cutters of each other,
the rest of our lives we want to be snowflakes in January gust,
individuals dancing free in the wind

If they would just take my gift,
tip open the lid
peek inside.

This is not the end,
these four walls for four years.

I want to give this gift to you.
You need to know what I did not.
Pour your heart and soul into this.
Your life starts here.
Grab every opportunity that comes your way
Grab it like a life raft.
Love everyone,
that dorky guy in the corner, The mouth breather,
Love him the most.

I take it back,
Make your own mistakes. You are a clean slate.
Your life is that favorite coloring book,
create your masterpiece.
Go outside the lines.
Like the magic 8 ball, my answers are unclear, you fill in the details.

The bully doesn’t go away after high school,
It morphs into the bill collector, the tax assessor,
Your mother in law.
You will still be faced with deadlines, due dates.
You will still worry about how you look.
Trade your Proactive for Oil of Olay.
Your hair gel for Rogaine

The mirror reflects a new face back to you.
But you will still be you.

It is not the end, these four walls
for four years.
just the beginning.

tolo man Jul 2013

the dunmer

dark skined men brave yet hated
anger wound up beneath the skin
rightous and heroic
kindredly spireted

elfs related to these people
leaving their homeland for few more gold
frost they are not used to
summer there homeland holds.

Sara Jones Apr 2015

Never Tell Me of My Imperfections

Never tell me of my imperfections.
For it is my imperfections that make me who i am.

Dont make fun of the way i scratch my nose or wiggle my toes.
The idiosyncrasies i have make me what i am and what i will become.

Or rather who I will become.
Because I am not a what or will or whim or a dream.
I am a human just being in time and space.

Flittering around on a pinpoint of a globe I call home because I don't know what else to do with my existence.

I didnt come out of the womb knowing exactly what i would do one day.
Nor did I come knowing of all the lives I would impact upon.
I didnt come knowing who i am and how my personality would affect My lifespan.

I came out with sparkles in my eyes and a hunger to prove i belong in a society that doesn't want to approve of anyone in the first place.

They say that all little white girls like me are privileged.
Though they know everyone has a different struggle.
Society is a hypocrite.

One second it'll say that people like me are accepted.
The cracked, the gay, the rebel.
But then it's confused.
Because I'm pale white with blonde hair and blue eyes.
How could this mixture even be?

I dyed my hair when I was young because I was tired of being called ditzy.
I wore colored contacts because I thought my eyes were to bright for such a somber world.
It wasn't until I was older.

It wasn't until I was wiser.
That I realized that there is no such thing as society.
The brain is so complex and we are all so focused on fitting in that we created an invisible standard for ourselves.

Blacks are "ghetto"
Whites are "privlaged"
And every other racial color is bled from the picture.
Society,
This invisible standard,
Started hounding me from a young age, telling me my thighs and arms were always to big.

Or that I was less because I didn't wear makeup everyday like every other 15 year old trying to fit in.
The invisible standard would cut me down until I cut myself open at the seams.
Bleeding onto the pages of textbooks and papers that I need to "get somewhere" in life.

Bleeding onto those job applications that say that you need experience to earn the experience to get experience for the job that you need to pay for the student loans you had to get in order to earn that degree to get the job.

The invisible standard tells me that little pale skined, blonde haired, blue eyed girls like me who can't handle their ***** need to always look over their shoulder otherwise I'll be taken or drugged or *****.

That all little girls fathers have to stand at the door holding a shotgun telling a boy that he's not good enough for her.

But why
Isn't that the question.
Why does the father have to hold the shotgun?
Can't he raise her well enough that she knows a healthy relationship from a harmful one?

Or can he raise her well enough to know if a boy is treating her right or wrong?

The invisible standard we have set for ourselves is telling each of us we don't belong in the world.
That all of these pale white girls with blonde hair and blue eyes are fragile

But at the same time they are the dumb ones.

Obviously if I was dumb I wouldn't be here.
If I was what society has called me out to be I wouldn't be over a piece of paper pouring words from my psyche onto it with such a force that shook the foundation of society itself.

Because that's the thing about this invisible standard.

There's nothing that you actually have to prove to it because it doesn't even exisit.

#life #society #thinking #black #white #girls #invisible #drinking #standard

Caroline Lee Jun 2016

Keep trying to Lose

Bruised ribs I'm sleepless walking down this dusty road
Lost in thought over my dead weight but I just can't shoulder the load
And I tried to run it over my tight tongue in the bathroom
Singing quiet hymns to consol myself praying to god that now isn't too soon
And I see it in my eyes head on in the mirror
I can hear it in my constant questioning trying to understand why the path isn't clearer
But I'm no nearer to understanding than I am to touching my elbow with my tongue
I'm no closer to letting someone in than to embracing who I've become
And my need to run
And I'd like to see the light behind your bright eyes dancing on my skin
I'd like to risk the burn just to try and let you in
Warm arms and broad smile
Sit down and tell me to stay a while
I think I could pause for you
I think I could stop worrying about what I should do
Just staring into your kind eyes
Trying to figure out why that flame never dies
But here I am thin skined thing trying to protect my arteries
Laying alone broken in bed over how others seem to have responded to me
Like I've been sent out to sea on this twin bed in my sleep
Awakened in waves too caught off guard and timid to make that leap
So I'll sink my tired skeleton into the frame work of this mattress
And try to decompress my heavy head and restless mind
They say if you seek you'll find
And I'd like to find that light that lives behind your eyes inside my own skin
I'd like to risk the bruising and breaking just to try and let you in
Warm arms and broad smile
Sit down and tell me to stay a while
I think I could pause for you
I think I could stop worrying about what I should do
Just staring into your kind eyes
Trying to figure out why that flame never dies
But here I stand, Fire eyed girl that I am
spitting venom declaring I belong to no man
I am not who I used be and it's plain to see when I look at you
And think of all the damage I could do
Hoping that maybe some things aren't too good to be true
So if that's true,
And I'd like to see the light behind your bright eyes dancing on my skin
I'd like to risk the bruising just to try and let you in
Warm arms and broad smile
Sit down and tell me to stay a while
I think I could pause for you
I think I could stop worrying about what I should do
Just staring into your kind eyes
Trying to figure out why that flame never dies.

Wrote this song in 20 mins awake alone in a bunk bed at a camp Im anxious about

#love #lyrics #you #me #song #us

Jerry Howarth Jan 2022

Untitled

TWO SELFISH BROTHERS
This is a story bout two brothers; the older one an outdoors hunter,
the younger a buiness man. Their Father's favorite son was the hunter, their Mother's favorite son was the businss man. These two brothers didn't get along too well with each other, and were always
competing against each other for the love of their Mom and Dad.
Now listen to a onversation between the Father and his hunter son.

"My son, as you know, I am very old and have not been feeling
too good these past few weeks. I could die any day now, but before
I do, I'd like to have some more of that tasty venison that you make, one more time before I die and I will make you number one in my will."

"Ok Dad" he replied "I'll go get my bow and **** a young deer and be honored to fix you a batch of venison meat."

"Oh and uh, son keep it to yourself about the will. I don't even want
your Mother to know about it and of course your big brother."

But some how his wife overheard the conversation and secretly told
the youngr son about her husbands plans, and so contrived a scheme to reverse the plans.

"Now that big brother of yours may know how to hunt, but he doesn't know a ten dollor bill from  a hundred dollor bill. You are the buisness man in our family, and would know how to invest and trade and increase the wealth of our family. So here is my idea. Go out to the goat pen and **** two of them; I know how to fix them to taste like that garbage that your Dad likes so well, and that way he will put you first in his will."

"Gee Mom, I don't know about that plan. For one thing Dad will not be able to see who he is talking to, because he is blind, but his smell is still real keen, and that would give it away that I'm not him. No, Mom I don't think your plan will work."

Mom: "Son, just do what I tell you to do. Ive got this all figured out. Now go out to the goat pen and ****, butchure and skin out two young goats. I know how to cook them so thy taste like that venison your brother makes for your Father; he will never know know difference."

So that's what the younger brother did, exactly as his Mother instructed him to do.

Son: "But Mom, Dad will know the difference between me and  my brother, by smell and touch. For ne big difference, I am of a smoth skind man wheras my brother is a hairy skined man, and in addition, dad will know by the smell between us. He smells like the outdoors and I smell like,  well not the outside, so what's your plans for those two things?

Mom: " I've already thought about those problems, son  and I am way ahead of you. As for the smell problem, you're going to be wearing his shirt and jeans and jacket, and for the touch problem
I'll just put some of the goat skin on your hands and arms and on your neck. He will never know the dfference between you and your
brother. So let's get going on this, before your brother gets back from hunting a deer and preparing the venison meal.

This next scene takes place with young brother feeding his Father the venison meal that his Mother made from the young goats.

Father: "Well you sure made good time, son; you were not gone long this time at all."

Son: "Well" (lied the  son) Dad, I prayed to your god for a quick ****,
and he answered my prayer and sent a deer right under me, and you know how acurate I am with my bow, so I pinned him right in it's heart. Because your god blessed me wth a quick **** I had more time to dress it and prepare my venison stew. Go on Father, dig in to it. I set it right in front of you."

The father had some doubts about which skn he was daing ith, and so he did a few proof checks befor e he sarted eating.

Father: "I sure appreciate your doing all this again for me. Step ovr to me and let me give you a big fatherly hug. Excuse me son, now don't take what I'm going to say to you wrong or take offence by it, but your voice doesn't sound your elder brother's, but you have his smell about you and are hairy.

Father began to eat and commented about the delisciouse stue, saying how good it was, but noted a slight difference in the taste and mentioned his fact to is son.

Son: "Oh well, I put a slight diffrent seasoning in it, I thought you might like it". He lied again to him "What do you think? Do you like it?"
Son: "Uh Father, now uh, you said somethimg about making me the first son to inhrerit your uh, you know all or the largest...."

Father: "Oh yes, I did and I will. If you you go into my office, in he roll top desk, in the right hand little pull out drawer is a key that unlocks the safe, which is actually that large photo of me standing in a field of barley. Take that photo down and behind it is the safe. To open it you need to turn the spin lock all around to the left then....."

After  father completed explaining the safe lock numbrs, his son brought him the legal papers among which, one was the Birth Rite of the oldest son.

Father: "Son, as you know I am almost blind, so you will need to bng yor Mother in to write your name in the designated line."

Mother is more then willing to come into the office, and sign her youngest son's name to the legal papers, making him the sole owner of the entiyer family estate.....
AND THE ***** LITLE SCHEME WAS FNSHED.

You have just read the true story in modern conversationof Jacob stealing his older brother, Esau's Birth Rite, as recorded in
Genesis 27:1-29.

Now let's see what spiritual applications we can gleen from this account.

I. I see Spiritual Self Will
A. Both parants waned the sgame thing for their sons. Actually God's will was for Jacob to have the leadership n the family from the *** go

— The End —