"skinner" poems
Plagiarism of worthless ideals,
that you so ignorantly hold high.
Shaking in amazement,
how can you call your self alive?
Totalitarian, lethargic lifestyle.
Ignominious displays of disaffection.
Constant contradictions;
out of your mind.
Caught up in the clouds,
cognition of mania and level debauched.
Up to high to realize, you're an “open mind” with locked doors.
Maslow, Skinner, and Darwin alike, turn in their graves,
over your lack of evolution.
Mar 6, 2013
Mar 6, 2013 at 2:00 AM UTC
She’s prettier , she’s skinner , she’s thinner , she’s more flawless, she’s this she’s that she’s everything that I can’t ever be… Alright stop! why are you comparing yourself to someone else out there? You’re beautiful in your own way and you better believe it. I know somewhere out there someone is going to make you believe it one day. Don’t be insecure about yourself because everyone is different and face the fact that they aren’t you. Stop comparing yourself and believe that the person in the mirror you see everyday is beautiful. There shouldn’t be a thing you should change, appreciate what you look like because the more you start to believe it the less insecure you’ll start being. Don’t let someone else’s words bring you down. They can tell you that you’re ugly or fat or anything negative. Just drop it because they’re only trying to bring you down and make you feel even more insecure. You should always be the bigger person and ignore it because once you start listening the more you’ll feel insecure and you’ll always start to believe it. God made everyone differently and you came out that way now stop trying to change the originality of who you are from what society wants you to be looking like. You’ll always be beautiful the way you are.
Dec 21, 2014
Dec 21, 2014 at 4:35 AM UTC
I hate myself
I hate how I don't talk
I hate my fake smiles and laughs
I hate the mask of makeup I put on my face
Just to feel a little prettier
I hate how I look
Never skinner enough
No matter what I do
I hate myself
I hate how I have no friends
And how I will stay at home
Cutting my arm into a millions pieces
Just to feel something
I hate how everyone thinks that I am always like that
I hate no one will notice when I cry
I hate myself
I hate my body
I am trapped in and I can't escape
I hate how you don't notice how unhappy I am
And how I want to die
More than anything
But you have never seen me happy.
Not always depressed
With how I think people will think about me.
I hate myself
But I am trying to feel better
But I keep pushing myself down
I hate myself
I hate myself
I hate how you love me
I hate how you love my curves
And love how I snort when I truly laugh
I hate myself
But I will love myself if you will stay.
I hate how much you love me.
I hate myself
Apr 6, 2017
Apr 6, 2017 at 4:59 PM UTC
Hands clawing outward from a mass grave
Mouth gasping for air,
Lungs filled with invisible smog
Mind too indoctrinated to care
Pressed in against the walking dead
Face to face, toe to toe –
Clammy fingers entwining by seeing
Unseeing eyes staring into a blank void you well know
Drifting with the metal cage
Jerking back, coasting sideways, never flinch
Some escape, more cram in –
Nearing hellish Purgatory inch by inch
A screeching halt, your turn to flee –
Into the glass maze obediently file
Skinner's rats – jolted by punishment
Yet tomorrow you’ll do it again – another card on the pile.
Jul 23, 2014
Jul 23, 2014 at 5:59 AM UTC
Yesterday I was a school going kid
Always Hungry for knowledge
Always Thirsty for lessons of life
Obediently sitting in a large noisy class
Listening and recording every words preached
Hoping they were stored forever...
Or atleast before the exam day was over
Today I still go to school
Twice a week
with a bunch of happy people
We have fun learning!
embarassing ourselves mostly
In the most intellectual way!!
laughing at ourselves for being silly
Sometimes unsure
whether we are hungry or thirsty
But knowledge is like the sea...
Endless and wide.
Rather ...
We are desperate to digest it all
The ZPD, Scaffolding, Sociocultural and Constructivism?
Hey hey whose theory?
And Skinner, Pavlov, Vygotsky and Chomsky
Hope they are here to tell us a story.
To go or to let go
Hard .. dont you know?
Decided to go with the flow...
Determined that one day
We will stand tall
On that humble stage
Wearing that long pretty robe ...
in our hands a scroll...
There's nothing like having a PHD
With your sweat and tears...
and a whole lot of laughters too....
The feelings?
Of course... unexplainable
The experience?
PRICELESS!!!
Oct 18, 2015
Oct 18, 2015 at 12:00 PM UTC
A misplaced Oxford Comma
Lead to perilous trauma
She drifted into an Oggsford Coma
Then turned into an awful aroma
The Ceremony held in 1980
Resurrected in 1 A.D
In the lumbering town of Hudson's Bay
Majorie chose to stay
Never feeling so free
She sat within a tree
Enjoying all she could see
The girl decided never to flee
Established in 1995
This dream came Alive
A tree home called heaven
Would stand until 1997
Slim used to be a Jackline Skinner
Lumberjack was more of a winner
Quickly forgot all about Walden Pond
Long before a new light dawned
"The wind that blows
Is all that anybody knows"
Even goes for pros
Or vacant minded 'hoes'
Just patiently listen to those
Who know where a **** goes
Don't make needless foes
Leave that for all the 'pros'
Slim stood uttering horrible slurs
At the request of a woman in expensive furs
Majorie stood on bended knee
Pleading for them to leave her tree
As she reached the bottom of the ladder
Silence was breached by a sudden clatter
All the rats began to scatter
Knowing exactly what was the matter
The lumberjack had missed his mark
Added slightly too much ark
Caused the Oak to prematurely tumble
And his body to instantly crumble
May 25, 2013
May 25, 2013 at 3:08 AM UTC
Cyriack, this three years day these eys, though clear
To outward view, of blemish or of spot;
Bereft of light thir seeing have forgot,
Nor to thir idle orbs doth sight appear
Of Sun or Moon or Starre throughout the year,
Or man or woman. Yet I argue not
Against heavns hand or will, nor bate a jot
Of heart or hope; but still bear vp and steer
Right onward. What supports me, dost thou ask?
The conscience, Friend, to have lost them overply’d
In libertyes defence, my noble task,
Of which all Europe talks from side to side.
This thought might lead me through the world’s vain mask
Content though blind, had I no better guide.
1.7k
Ana, Ana
my best friend
i'm sorry to say
we've come to an end
you see I loved you
alot more than I should
you always stayed
when no one would
it was very hard
we've been through thick & thin
our golden rule
eating is a sin
on my knees
fingers down my throat
whatever's in my stomach
the toilet it'll coat
the number on the scale
decides what you'll say
whether I get to eat or not
usually I starve everyday
you know my family
but they don't know you
they'll never see you
in my point of view
you're beautiful & amazing
everything I want to be
or so I thought
why couldn't I see
you weren't who you said you were
you were a wolf in sheep's fur
I was fragile & insecure
did that ever occur
I was 16 & 80 pounds
but you didn't care
when my ribs started showing
you continued to dare
skinner & skinnier
I was so sick & small
I couldn't even stand
I used support from a wall
but I no longer need support
you see my coffins closed
I never knew I was perfect
from my head to my toes
Ana I let you win
there is no more me
I finally got thin
but i'm dead can't you see
our friendship is over
you finally won
but you don't even care
you're on to another one
Oct 2, 2015
Oct 2, 2015 at 9:37 AM UTC
den er ubrydelig med dens aluminiums indpakning
har fået gode anmeldelser og stærk opbakning,
skærmen lyser op som en håndfuld af stjerner
den er så intelligent med dens fire hjerner,
måneknapperne skinner,
ud i natten og forsvinder.
den har potentiale til at blive noget stort
potentiale til at vise vej når alt er sort,
svært gennemtrængelig og beskyttet med koder,
men når barrieren brydes overvældes man af goder,
for den er ikke blot endnu et moderne produkt,
som vil skubbe dig længere mod selvtugt.
-
DET ER DEN SAMME TRUMMERUM
DAG UD OG DAG IND, ALTID ET TOMRUM
ET PÅBEGYNDENDE DELIRIUM,
JEG BLIVER TÆNDT OG SLUKKET
KLAPPET SAMMEN OG LUKKET
VENTER BLOT PÅ AT STIKKET BLIVER TRUKKET,
SÅ JEG DAGEN EFTER KAN BLIVE STARTET,
TIL EN NY DAG, SOM ER ENSARTET,
JEG LADER FRUSTRATIONERNE SYNGE INDEN JEG FÅR SPARKET.
JEG BLEV SKABT AF EN GRUND, DER IKKE LÆNGERE EKSITERER
MÅLET VAR EN MASKINE, DER ALTID VILLE FUNGERE
MIN PROCESSOR KØRER PÅ HØJTRYK OG JEG ER TÆT PÅ AT EKSPLODERE,
MIN SOFTWARE ER FORÆLDET OG MIT HUKOMMELSESKORT ER FYLDT MED VIRUS
NYE PRODUKTER KØRER MIG RUNDT I MANEGEN OG JEG VIL IKKE MED I DET CIRKUS
JEG FRYGTER IKKE AT BLIVE SMIDT UD, JEG VILLE BETRAGTE DET SOM EN GESTUS,
LAD MIG NU MÆRKE JEG LEVER, FOR FØRSTE GANG,
LAD MINE HØJTALERE SPILLE DEN SIDSTE SANG,
FØR JEG BLIVER EN DEL AF DET, DER VAR ENGANG.
-
En maskine var jeg – en defekt er jeg blevet.
Nov 1, 2014
Nov 1, 2014 at 8:07 PM UTC
A man named Skinner came to dinner,
with knife poised to attack any so-called sinner,
where did his acerbic attitude come from I wonder,
it was not fair that he should cast any man asunder.
To be frank, he was the one who should work harder,
then, there may be more pleasantries stocked in his larder,
perhaps a change of heart is beyond some of us,
but if you don't - we won't let you on the bus.
We won't let you have any credibility,
until you gain some compassion and humility,
put your silly knife away described as fun,
otherwise we'll lock you up in the Tower of London.
You don't deserve accolades with your set of blades,
We won't waste our time as your pathetic memory fades.
Apr 5, 2016
Apr 5, 2016 at 2:39 PM UTC
Det her er ikke et normalt eventyr.
Det her er et anderledes eventyr, noget du ikke har set før.
Det handler om en prinsesse der bor i et slot, langt langt borte.
*** er fanget bag tremmer og vogtet af en ildspydende drage.
Vi venter i tusinde lange år.
Kommer han mon?
En dag, en solskinsfyldt dag, kommer han ridende.
Prinsen.
På sin hvide hest med den flaprende smukke manke.
Han svinger sit sværd.
Han falder og rejser sig ædelt op igen.
Han overvinder dragen og løber op af trapperne.
Oppe i kammeret sidder prinsessen.
Solen skinner igennem vinduet på hendes lange lyse hår.
Hendes hjerte banker.
Det banker for prinsen.
Han tager hendes hånd.
Kysser den blidt.
Nede i gården venter den hvide hest.
Ja for den venter selvfølgelig.
På prinsen.
De ridder mod hans rige.
De ridder mod solnedgangen.
De to.
Mod en lykkelig slutning.
Dec 9, 2016
Dec 9, 2016 at 5:21 AM UTC
mere eller mindre enten eller
det er ligemeget
efter efteråret er det vinter
det er elegant sneen dækker det hele
natten er dunkel
men dér i midten af himmelen lyser en stjerne
shh shh stille
se sådan som solen skinner gennem skyerne
se hvordan strålerne slikker din hud
synes du lidenskaben i lyset er spektakulær?
solen er den største stjerne
skønt du kommer straks efter
at tænke tanker tænder intellekten
ti tusind ting at tænke i timen
tak til tænkning utak til tristhed
tag fat i din tekop
teen er tempereret
det er som at træde på tidsler
Mar 8, 2015
Mar 8, 2015 at 3:04 PM UTC
I can see why many people think our generation is a group of young people lost in self-absorbed apathy. We cry out for our ‘rights’, our ‘right’ to faster internet, better houses, cheaper clothes, sexier partners and better *** better computers, and the right to basic human life is lost. We seem to be defined by the foolish actions of one-night stands, drunken tweets and emotional tumblr posts. We starve ourselves to be skinner, work out incessantly to be hotter, binge to be cooler, reject common sense to be hipster, and fight to be accepted rather than fighting for true justice and hope.
Where are the leaders? I know there are more of us! The ones who shake with rage when they witness the horrors going on across the globe and dream of saving lives. Not all of us feel the call to stand up on a podium and yell, nor do we all desire to march down the streets near Parliament House fighting for those who have no voice. We cannot do everything all at once, not alone anyway. There needs to be unity for any successful action can be taken. Yes, one passionate person can seek justice and change hundreds of situations, but just imagine if every person in the ‘wealthy’ western world sponsored just one child, that child becomes successful and sponsors another child, it pays forward and global poverty becomes a shameful story in a history book. Imagine our children asking us about what it was like when the world decided to take a stand against corruption, greed, apathy and demonic forces, what would you say? Would you tell them you were at the front line, in the medical tents? Or would you sigh and shamefully confess that you didn’t believe in the need for change because all you wanted was just that beautiful girl/boy/computer/dress/shirt/shoes/camera/whatever.
There are so many things we can do, so many organisations to be a part of, find something in this world that makes your blood boil, an injustice you cannot stand to see and find a way to help remove that injustice for good. You are not alone in this, you are able to change peoples lives - yes, Y O U! You and I, we can change the world forever, just hop out of your comfortable first world and run towards the challenges that we can beat. I believe in you
Aug 30, 2013
Aug 30, 2013 at 3:04 AM UTC
They asked me my name
Hi I'm Jessica
They asked me to describe myself
I'm happy and I trust easily
I met a boy
He was nice, and funny
He had a crush
I was it
Gave him my trust
I thought we'd be bestest friends forever
But then he met someone else
She asked me my name
Hi I'm Jessica
She asked me to describe myself
I'm happy and I have amazing friends
He put me on the back shelf
I was forgotten
He lost my trust
He couldn't find it
He didn't want to find it
I was left out
Replaced by someone
She was beautiful
She was skinner
She was better at everything
Everything I thought I was
Everything I could do,
She could do it better
I looked up to her
I tried to be like her
She introduced me to here friends
They asked me my name
Hi I'm Jessica
They asked me to describe myself
I'm forgotten and I want to be like you
A while passed
This went on and on
He said we were still best friends
But he didn't act like one
I couldn't take it
They ask me my name
Hi I'm Jessica
They say describe yourself
I'm depressed and Waiting
Oct 23, 2013
Oct 23, 2013 at 10:40 AM UTC
When you flick the lever does it strain you? Does it stave you?
So agonizingly close to the truth?
Cynical is the nature.
Mame to ****
fool not fill,
mind over will.
To quarter intrinsically,
Stutter intellectually,
Engrosse enternally.
Oh untimely vapire!
Vibrent like the moon
how you steal from the heavens,
iluminating the path of shadows!
You! Sending mankind to the gallows!
Oh promises you gave were shallow!
Every like
every follow,
will this only end in sorrow?
Jun 2, 2018
Jun 2, 2018 at 2:30 AM UTC
1) It puts the peanut butter on its *****
2) Finna meat sum *******
3) Classical conditioner
4) Pavlov ain't russian in the bathroom
5) He would never steak his reputation upon his looks
6) He met his husband on meatgrindr
7) His creepy uncle
8) Pavlov rools dogs drool
9) He was tired of being confused with Sylvia Plath
10) He needed all the leverage he could get on Skinner
Feb 1, 2016
Feb 1, 2016 at 1:21 AM UTC
*Jeg ligger i sneen
Og føler ingenting.
Kulden rør mig ikke,
For den har allerede
Gnavet sig ind til mine ben...
Et ensomt snefnug falder på min kind,
Blidt det rammer,
Men jeg mærker det ik'
Hvorefter det langsomt smelter
Og triller ned ad min kind
Som de tåre
Jeg har grædt i tusindvis...
Mine fodspor i sneen
Er snart dækket af hvidt
Jeg tænker,
At dette ville
Du nok gerne have set...
Dette hvide landskab,
Der skinner så blidt.
Og jeg smiler,
Men kun et øjeblik.
Før jeg erindre,
At sådan blev det ik'...
Frosten bider mig i næsen,
Men i øjeblikket er jeg
Et halv-sociopatisk væsen
Og derfor
Ænser jeg den ik'...
For jeg ved ik' hvordan
Jeg skal komme igennem dagen,
Som uret snart slår an...
Den sidste dag, den sidste time,
Før du lægges endeligt til hvile.
Men lige nu vil jeg ikke tænke,
Ikke føle, ikke mærke sorgens lænke,
Der langsomt tynger mig ned...
Jeg vil blot ligge her i sneen
Før jeg går ind
Og lægger de sidste roser
På kisten...*
Mar 20, 2016
Mar 20, 2016 at 5:38 AM UTC
mørket trænger sig på. månen spejler sig i ulveflokkens nådeløse øjne. ulvene kigger mod himlen og hyler deres hjerter ud. månen er omringet af stjerner, men rovdyrenes kalden blokerer alt kommunikation. nuancer af liv toner ud. natten ligger skindød, men søvnløshed betyder sult, så den ensomme ulv søger blod. månen rækker ud til den. den føler sig heldig. men den lytter blot til en vuggevise, der snart vil blive sunget for den næste i flokken.
nu har natten taget over og månen skinner som aldrig før. den blænder mig, så jeg lukker mine øjne og pludselig kan jeg selv høre visen.
f.b
May 1, 2014
May 1, 2014 at 9:24 AM UTC
Er jeg den eneste der ved at jorden er ved at gå under?
Begraver sig selv i undergang og drømmesvigt. Er jeg den eneste der ikke længere kan se sig selv i øjnene og leve -
Men jeg kan se stjerner og de skinner som bløde ferskner ikke gør det. Jeg ser mørke og opfinder selv patetiske solglimt. Vi længtes efter ægtheden og det hudløse, uden at vide hvad det er. Vi tør ikke mere.
At elske
at leve
at spise eller dø. Men vi har bløde ferskner og lange nætter der pumper vores hjerteblod af espresso shots.
Jan 16, 2015
Jan 16, 2015 at 2:11 PM UTC
Kaffen er varm og duften er velkendt når den rammer mine sanser. Åbner op for den velkendte smag, som jeg snart smager. Når kaffen er varm, møder jeg måske lidt flere minder end hvis den var kold. For når den er kold, så er vi gået, og samtalen og tankestrømmen er som regel forbi.
Når kaffen er varm går samtalen mellem dig og mig, eller dig og hende eller ham på velsmurte skinner og solen skinner måske i øjeblikket, og glæden stråler ud af dine vintertrætte øjne, og jeg ser det. Vi smiler. Vi er glade. Måske endda lykkelige, lige der i øjeblikket. Enten med selvskab af dig, ellers sidder jeg alene med den varme kop mellem mine skrøbelige hænder, som er trætte efter dagens forhindringer, som jeg har måtte stå imod. Måske tænker jeg for meget.
Jeg svæver mellem mælkeskum og varme bønner, væk fra det der gemmer sig bag ruden, som dugger til af varmen fra min nu varme krop mod vinduskammen. Jeg lader dem strømme, tankerne, lader dem svæve som om de flygtede fra det kolde vejr mod varmere lande. Dagens, ugens eller månedens ophobninger af forvirrede, glade, vrede og småligegyldige tanker.
Det er små øjeblikke som denne hvor jeg ser at de travle øjeblikke er der for mange af. Fordi om lidt er kaffen kold, og snart kalder hverdagen igen. Tiden går, kaffen er kold, og snart er der kun kaffemærker af den tidligere varme kaffe tilbage.
Feb 22, 2016
Feb 22, 2016 at 2:28 PM UTC
Prev-ee-us-lee Brayn
Damnegd
Treetid
Savig
Sr.Vival Crucul
Bilt & Fyt
Fed Shyt
Vilently Hyt
Apr 23, 2018
Apr 23, 2018 at 7:07 AM UTC
kigger lidt op på himlen
hvor månen skinner blændende klart
jeg indånder koldt varm røg
inhaler og puster ud igen
gentager handlingen indtil cigaretten
er brændt ned til filteret
og jeg skoder
mens jeg i den handling indser at
cigaretten bliver en perfekt metafor
for livet
fordi livet, ligesom cigaretten
kræver at to ting bliver forenet
at sædcellen møder ægget
ligesom ilden møder cigaretten
og livet kan begynde
og langsom forsvinder livet
mens vi gentager de samme handlinger
igen og igen
ånder ind og ud
og alle brænder en dag ned til filteret
hvor der ikke er mere tobak tilbage at ryge
og man bliver skodet og begravet
i den kolde jord
Mar 21, 2016
Mar 21, 2016 at 7:55 PM UTC
maybe i'm wiser
maybe i'm stronger
maybe i'm skinner
maybe i'm smarter
maybe i'm brighter
maybe i'm fatter
maybe i'm older
maybe i'm not
maybe i'm (almost) the same as last time
but i'm sure that now
i'm happier.
Nov 15, 2015
Nov 15, 2015 at 7:34 PM UTC