"stacy" poems
* *In love with Gwen Stacy
When in stasis* *
Cannot let go of the old neighborhood charm until?
*In love with Mary Jane
When the mind takes off* *
Now, I become the hero Spiderman yet a problem?
* *She leaves, no Mary Jane
And the symbiote, VENOM* *
Comes along in angry mind of the hero spurned?
* *Stuck in webs
anger as Man
Hero no words* *
Comes along in angry mind of the hero spurned?
* *I want to do something widcha'
something makes her mad
I want to do something widcha'
something makes him Mad.* *
* *I want to do something widcha'
some thing? ** *
Sep 22, 2018
Sep 22, 2018 at 2:28 AM UTC
Shannon, Mariah, Serena, Maria
Meridia, Midian, Sharon, Alliah
Rochelle, Camille, Rose, Halo
Trenna, Jessica, Ashley, Georgia
Marla, Olivia, Sofia, India
Daniella, Diana, Christina, Caroline
Isabella, Amelia, Amanda, Matilda
Nadine, Haley, Bailey, Francine
Eliza, Annabelle, Kathryn, Sandra
Melinda, Audrey, Aubrey, Emily
Tara, Emma, Ginny, Kathleen
Josephine, Helena, Charlotte, Laura
Chelsea, Arkady, Megan, Kelsey
Kayla, Karliah, Moana, Vivien
Kaysea, Macy, Stacy, Lorraine
Theresa, Felicia, Cecilia, Darlene
Holly, Brianna, Alexa, Ariel
Marianne, Miranda, Jennie, Coral
Korra, Daisy, Penelope, Rayne
Zoey, Cassandra, Grace, Stephanie
Jul 27, 2013
Jul 27, 2013 at 12:34 AM UTC
You're Gwen Stacy, I'm Spidey
Don't leave me, I'll make you happy
I don't need anybody or money
Just the two of us, you and me
To others, I'm cold as ice
To you, my heart always melts, Oh nice!
Now, I'm going to roll those dice
To unfold what the future lies
My love for you is absolute
You're my boss, I salute
If I love you means I am Groot
Then I am Groot, I am Groot
Nov 22, 2018
Nov 22, 2018 at 9:45 AM UTC
I wonder if they're happy.
They sure do seem so.
They're always talking about stealing their daddy's Jaguars and having beer blasts and getting in to fights and being bros and getting tan and buying new swimsuits and getting a call from different modeling agencies and crashing cars and smoking cigarillos and drinking fancy wine and going to their beach house and deciding between Harvard and Yale or Porsche and Mustang and did we win the football game and making new friends and oh my God Stacy actually said that and dude, I totally ****** her and my math teacher is such a ***** and my parents are putting me into boarding school and check out my new Jordans and did you watch the sunset last night?
I don't know if they're having fun, but it sure seems like it.
*I wonder if they're having fun. It sure seems like it.
They're always talking about hitch hiking to the next city over and going to shows and drinking PBR and sneaking out at night and yeah dude, that party was sick and my tumblr is so famous right now and check out my new denim jacket and smoking **** and getting in to fights and lifting cigarettes from stores and Austin and Katie slept together and Kyle broke edge and I'm still working at McDonalds and yeah I'm still driving my '93 Ford Ranger and smoking hookah and watching Mean Girls and yeah I love the ocean and check out my new Kicks and did you watch the sunset last night?
I don't know if they're having fun, but it sure seems like it.*
Sep 20, 2012
Sep 20, 2012 at 10:22 PM UTC
It takes alot
Loving you in these shoes.
It isn't horrible.
The way they fit.
The way they look.
Loving you in these shoes of mine.
It doesn't take much effort.
To slide my feet in.
Tie them, before a single step is taken.
Knowing all that goes unseen.
The padding & cushioning.
The flex of each step,
The urgency of how I long.
Revealing how much I've thought of you.
The many steps and puddles these shoes have walked.
They aren't waterproof.
They aren't well protected from wear & tear.
Loving you in these shoes of mine.
They are far from dress shoes,
Not even close to casual shoes.
They aren't the type of brand shoe everyone is in line to buy.
Stacy Adams, Adidas, Jordan.
Loving you in these shoes,
No one knows where to find them.
How many times they've come loose.
How many times the cushion has been replaced.
Loving you in these shoes of mine.
Knowing you've checked the tags of the name brand shoes.
The appeal of readily available colors
Jan 23, 2019
Jan 23, 2019 at 2:18 AM UTC
(Written in 8th Grade)
As I grew up along-side of memories, I realized that my name grew with me; shaping and morphing itself into who I am today. But wouldn’t it be fun to not be me for a single day? Not have the name, Alice? I could be someone smiling bright, maybe Melina. Or might I try on the name Jessie. Nah, too laid back and chill; so I take the name off and put it back on it’s hanger. I could be haughty and proud, with my nose in the air; I could be a Penelope. I window-shop for more names, browsing among all the different personalities. Fern seems fun, friendly and cordial. Or I might stick around and act as a Sam. Boyish? Aw yeah. Just maybe not for me. I’ll be Stella, all book-sharp for a day or I could be a Chloé, exotic and beautiful. Or switch my style into the retro girly Natalie. What would it be, to have the name Katie, just for a day? Zoey, Liana, Stacy, Diane. Isabelle, Marilyn, Delia, Hannah. Maybe give my name an exotic twist, Alyssa? After trying on names of all kind, some just weren’t for me. Too ‘krazy’? Shy? Ecstatic? Cool? Like a huge circus parade with different costumes, the loud gaudy colors blinding me. Like all the different shoes at Aldo’s; sky-high heels, wedges, sandals, boots. I slip out the shoes, I peel off the names. Because for now, I’d like to stay in my own skin; as a plain old Alice.
May 7, 2014
May 7, 2014 at 8:41 AM UTC
Child: hey ma my freinds said they asked about the honey
Mum: Are you drunk?
Child: no
Child: is not alchool its hinoney ma hon
“Misscall from Mum”
Mum: R U @ stacy’s house?
“Misscall from Mum”
Child: Im at a beach a lake or iidkthe car
Mum: Answer your phone!
Mum: who is with you?
Child: can you come pick em uip
Child: me up
Child: i wan go hoke now
Mum: Yes baby just answer your phone we can figure out where you are
“Child could not be reached”
“Child could not be reached”
“Child could not be reached”
Oct 30, 2020
Oct 30, 2020 at 8:53 AM UTC
Locker 36
Brought about much bliss
How you twisted my **** and made me free
You were locker 38
Just two spaces down from me
I'd stare at you from a far
In the lunch room
Just hoping one day you would see
The hair you had spiked to the t
With hands gentle
And a smile so soft
You said your name was Stacy
But that I could take to calling you Jack
You loved when I called you Jack
You also enjoyed football,wrestling and tickle fights
I adored things like that
I bet I could pin you down in three seconds flat
I was to weak to flip you over
Your head you'd rest on my breast
You said they fit better on my body anyways
Locker 38
Where we discussed our first date
You swallowed spit to say
"I know it might be weird...ya know being seen out with me"
I pulled you close and embraced you
Feel my love my dear?
Heaven knows I had my fears...but none of them had to do with being seen with you.
I whispered hummingbird in your ear
'Cause the nights I couldn't sleep you would hum the sweetest tune
I unraveled the moment the testosterone bloomed
Hearing depth in your voice for the first time
You asked how could I love someone like you, the day I called you mine.
Locker 38
You leaned against with eyes unsure
I knew the question was pure
So my answer would always be genuine
I explained that I had fallen
I was never to get up
Jack I said
Stacy is just your long forgotten twin...I except who you were and what you've become simply my dear because you are my love...
My only one...
Locker 38
Where my life begun.
Aug 8, 2013
Aug 8, 2013 at 1:36 AM UTC
The sun dips over the horizon.
Beginning its' rise.
Alarm 1... Grudgingly greeted
With a fist.
Alarm 2... Mama waking me.
3... Me waking you.
Early morning songbirds whistling their tune.
Gospel dimly transient from the far let room.
Pancakes, eggs, bacon, and grits on the stove.
OJ and milk sits for the kids,
While coffee brews for the adults.
Early morning chatter.
Sounds like shoe laces and belt buckles.
Tooth brushes and hair brushes
Frantic in pace.
Traffic
Back and forth, up and down
While we,
Barely awake.
White Cadillacs, Lincoln's, and Oldsmobiles
With the beige and burgundy rag tops.
Reminds me of Granny's car.
4 in the back
3 in the front.
With room to spare.
Red lights and stop signs.
Peppermints and tootsie rolls.
Meijer.
So we're halfway there.
Slanted park job in the lot.
High heels and Stacy Adams
Clash the cement.
Like soldiers
We march in
Just in time for praise.
Cheerful smiles and warm greetings.
Some real.
Some fake.
We sit.
And now
We pray.
Thank you Lord
For this day.
The sun is up
Such as our faith.
Our health is good
Our love is strong
So thank you Lord
For this lasting bond.
We nap.
We chat.
We clap.
We praise.
We jump.
We shout.
We cry.
We raise
And benedict.
Home for dinner.
*** roast and corn.
Sweet potatoes and greens.
Kids playful in their youth
Adults lively in their jeans.
We sit.
Thank you for this food
We are about to receive
For the nourishment of our bodies
In Jesus' name
We pray.
Amen.
We eat and enjoy each others company
No conversation needed.
Just the sound of good food.
The feeling of love.
The sun
Setting in the window.
It's almost time for rest.
I can't wait until next Sunday.
The weekend might be over
But the love,
The memories
Are the best I've ever had.
Feb 24, 2013
Feb 24, 2013 at 11:06 PM UTC
I am from the outdoors
from Febreeze and smoked salmon
I am from the snow covered hills
and the ice covered lakes
I am from the crowded hockey rink
the cheers and jeers
and the season ticket seats
familiar and worn
I'm from hunting and fishing
from Stacy and Layne
I'm from the military
and bad eyesight
from " 'Merica!", "Let's get DOWN!"
and raps about vicious kitties
I'm from Def Leppard, George Strait
and the Beach Boys
I'm from Hacienda and Chili's
caribou sausage and moose jerky
From the fishing hook my dad
stuck in his finger
The collarbone my brother broke on the ice... twice
This is where I come from
These things are my past
and my present
But the future is in the distance
around the bend
beyond the horizon
And I am eager for it to come
Apr 19, 2013
Apr 19, 2013 at 10:31 PM UTC
so there they sit,
drawing like idiots,
without a care in the world.
drooling, coughing, smiling
laughing, shrieking.
like life is an all you can eat buffet.
the things they have to look forward to:
heartbreak, health insurance, taxes, rent, a tedious
job, a loveless marriage, the death of a loved one - and then their own.
so I walk up to them and break their crayons,
to warn them of the evils of this world,
and they cry.
now they know how the world works.
but then then the pretty blonde waitress brings them another crayon.
they stop wailing, get distracted,
move on.
and I'm bitter because a pretty blonde lady isn't handing me any crayons, or paying my rent, or laying in my bed.
and those kids
never worked at Denny's, got evicted, or got their car stolen.
- they have earned nothing.
and those kids
have never had *** drank beer, climbed a mountain, or carried their lives in a backpack
- they have lived nothing.
and the waitress hands me my receipt,
and I smirk,
because she scribbled a note on it:
"415-555-3827
call me,
Stacy
PS that was the last crayon."
Apr 12, 2019
Apr 12, 2019 at 3:42 PM UTC
By Arcassin Burnham
As beautiful as an inspirational speech,
About life and what there is to teach,
Might of had a dream for the millions of stars you could reach,
You get to be with your father now,
you should have stayed away from Pete,
And when you fell from the clock tower,
He could have saved you,
I hate 12 o clock now,
Cause thats the time you died,
I don't know why someone like you,
Could ever be rescued,
As strong as you were,
Insecure,
Somebody lied,
But your forever missed,
You're in all our hearts,
Now you can meet the pearly gates,
And have a brand new start.
Jan 14, 2015
Jan 14, 2015 at 11:40 PM UTC
She squirmed and wriggled in absolute anticipation, just loving it, eagerly ready for what would come, love making in the most special and intimate way. Slowly Nigel moved his fingers up and down Stacy’s pussyanthamicatrical, enjoying the tightness of the plastic
though she was moist in her nose. The material of her ******* was soaked by dryness, science reversal. Part of her skirt would be but that didn’t matter. Soon she would be naked, not needing any
second skin to hide her beauty; that was left to her third. They had no secrets or inhibitions. Except skin.
Jul 8, 2020
Jul 8, 2020 at 10:22 PM UTC
"And he created out of one man every nation of men, to dwell upon the entire surface of the earth, and he decreed the appointed times and set limits of the dwelling of man." (Acts 17: 26) (New World Translation Study Edition)
When I look in the mirror, a doughty warrior, an oracle, an Olympian gazes back at me. The caramel-tinge of my skin tells of the colored pedigree from whence I came. Every ebony-tendril that bursts from my epidermis is as impregnable as the Sacred Lotus.
The history of my Mind's Sky has been tried by the Ancient African Sun of my ancestors. It is my hope, that I have passed the trials decreed by the ordinances of the Moon & Sun. Moreover, the Arbiter of Fates, Jah, dawns upon our fleshly vessel at each twilight, assaying our entities. (Isaiah 60: 19, 20) (New World Translation Study Edition)
So many intrepid souls have compassed me about. The Chalice of my Heart burgeons with esprit d' amour. The meaning of life is ne' er about intellect, is ne' er about achievement, is in part, about creativity; wholly, about Love. (John 13: 34, 35) (New World Translation Study Edition) For this reason, strength cascades upon me every moment as I witness the brilliance, the resilience of my beneficent matriarch, Stacy Amanda Foulke.
In life, I have learned that being a person of color in America is not only a wonderful privilege, but a responsibility. Why? The afflictions brought upon this skin only make it glisten brighter after convalescence. Our people have suffered inordinately so, but this is conducive to cultivating surpassing empathy. Therefore, I believe that history, as begotten through the colored legacy, shall be one of ultimate victory.
If and only if, we unfetter ourselves from the onerous burdens of the past, then Monarchical Wings shall burgeon from our Astral Chrysalis. "For though the tribulation is momentary and light, it works out for us a glory that is of more and more surpassing weight and is everlasting." (1st Corinthians 4: 17) (New World Translation Study Edition) Se' lah.
Feb 12, 2021
Feb 12, 2021 at 6:54 PM UTC
A game of lies
Spoken between the lines
And it all boils down to
Who knows who
Who knows you?
You know Sue?
She's real new
I heard from Stacy
She's got a man or two
***** **** for *****
But sits on a pew
Every Sunday
And confesses her sins
With her slate wiped clean
She does it all again
Wearing a grin
What nerve to think
Life's a free for all
As long as you pray
On your knees everyday
Six days show the truth
Unholy, and without shame
But on the seventh
Your god takes his claim
Who knows
Maybe he likes this game
Maybe god's sick in the head
Who are we to say
Why the games?
Why this life?
Nobody knows
That's just how it goes
It's a game of thrones
And a kingdom of lies
Daddy's caught up in the throes
Of a coke head fantasy
Mommy's all alone
Seeking comfort in the Hennessy
And children are born
As a result of the adultery
We call those game pieces
Pawns from an old game
Old flames and new tricks
Come back to haunt you
And your new fix
Girls to moms
Baby food and fresh kicks
For Christmas
Grown women
Or old girls?
**** if I know
But it’s the kids that suffer
Growing up
With tears for supper
Until they became cold
****** around and got old
At the age of sixteen
Old souls
Or so it seems
This is the world we live in
Not even the worst
Third world tragedies
Fronting like
First world prodigies
With only songs of sorrow to sing
We are the American dream
Jun 6, 2013
Jun 6, 2013 at 12:30 AM UTC
You said you would never hurt me
Promises I took to heart
and I framed us that day.
While you were cheating on me
I was making us dinner
Your favorite.
It was tasty,
even if I ate it alone.
You accidentally left your phone at home.
We were supposed to be forever,
Unfortunately Stacy doesn't think so
By the way she texted "I love you"
I didn't want to pry but
it was tempting.
I found out while I was having a meal for one
You were having it for two.
You came home
pretending you weren't
a *****
Good news;
I finally found a use
for our wedding knife.
I didn't want you to die
but it was tempting.
I couldn't stand the site
of lipstick on your collar.
I framed the other woman that night.
And The stain on your shirt grows
until your clothes are red.
To think you can be handsome
even though you're dead.
A laugh blisters up my throat
as I text you "I love you."
Jun 26, 2010
Jun 26, 2010 at 9:32 PM UTC
and when you said
someone like stacy
was your cup of tea
with a glistening look
like you longed for her embrace
with the brightest grin
etched broadly on your face
i wondered what it would've been like
to be brewed to your taste
Dec 25, 2020
Dec 25, 2020 at 4:56 AM UTC
If you're wondering how long it took for a man to die after crashing a car, five days was how long it took.
The car crash killed him and his ex-wife who was named Stacy Brooks.
He was driving over a hundred miles per hour at midnight, that was really fast.
Stacy died instantly but her ex-husband died about 120 hours after the crash.
Stacy has been dead for the same amount of time that she lived, twenty-five years.
She was a very special lady and her death brought about misery, suffering and tears.
Stacy wasn't stuck up like some other girls who I went to school with, she would talk to me.
It wasn't fair when she died so young, my friend has been dead for a quarter of a century.
Her life ended in 1997 on the seventh of September.
She was a unique person who I will always remember.
Sep 7, 2022
Sep 7, 2022 at 1:38 PM UTC
I have been in love since the moment I was born.
My mother was first and for a long time she held my heart.
At five she still had my love but so did Clint Eastwood.
That poncho wearing, cigarette smoking cowboy was the dad I never had.
In the sixth grade it was Stacy Smith.
She was my Wendy Peppercorn,
my Messiah,
my World Series Ring.
my love.
I made it to high school after
a few brief people put stars in my eyes.
In high school I met a girl
who took all the stars that had ever been in my eyes
multiplied them by all the stars in the sky
and put them back in my eyes, only for her.
Now, three years later,
a ******
excommunicated addict
I am in love again.
He is an author and he writes novels.
He is a novelist.
He is a genius.
He told me:
There is but one truly serious philosophical problem, and that is suicide. Judging whether life is or is not worth living amounts to answering the fundamental question of philosophy.
And I have figured that one out.
Until I have devoured him,
until I understand every single one of his literary pieces
I may not die.
I may not.
Until then,
I may love no other.
I may not die.
Oct 22, 2013
Oct 22, 2013 at 12:57 AM UTC
Tonight
I know for **** sure
That I won't sleep well.
I'll be too busy,
Wrapped within my inhibitions,
Pondering the psycho-social ramifications
Of telling you
To **** off.
Because in the end,
I know we're all just cosmic play things to God,
But why the **** did you get to be Legos to Him
While I got stuck
Being some Barbie,
Some Malibu Stacy doll?
Why did you get so many possibilities,
So many complicated pieces
While I got a primitive set of dainty high heels
To run the world from?
A nihilist will tell you
That suicidal thoughts
Are not bad,
More of a comfort actually.
Because as long as deep down,
You know you don't have the ***** for it,
You can use those thoughts
As a plan to run.
It's easy to deal with what's in front of you
When you have a ******* escape route.
Always have that escape route ready,
But never use it.
I promise
That your heart will feel lighter
And your soul
Just a smidgen freer.
Nov 28, 2014
Nov 28, 2014 at 2:12 AM UTC
Single at 40
Welcome to the lurid world
Monica
Kay
Lecia
‘It’s pronounced Leesha’
She says
FWB
Pictures
Texts
‘Can you come over now?’
Veronica
Ginny
Stacy
38
32
35
41
29
All ages
Who’s number is that?
‘What are you doing right now?’
NSA
‘You want to go to a movie sometime?’ I ask.
She looks at me funny
‘I don’t have time for a movie. Same time tomorrow?’
I have just one question for all:
Where were you when I was 17?!
Feb 1, 2018
Feb 1, 2018 at 1:01 PM UTC
Etched Mirror
He was a giant with wavy hair wearing a pair of Stacy Adams
He tried to teach me, his non-conformist son
He was never on the run, he was ever having fun
I was locked up in me, envy maybe?
Wanting to be him one day, not likely.
But in spite of me I was, I fought the genetic inevitability
I watched him shave, I watched him lather his face
The blade scraped and made this sound
Tiny black hairs on porcelain abound
That laughter and that smile
I watched his habits good and bad
He was the Father some young men never have
I miss him now, love him still
Some see me and get chills
He tried to teach me, his non-conformist son
He was never on the run, he was ever having fun
I was locked up in me, envy maybe?
Wanting to be him one day, not likely.
But in spite of me I was, I fought the genetic inevitability
I watched him drink, I knew his pockets would be like brinks
I capitalized on the stink from his pores
He drank till there was no more
There he was passed out on the floor
Mom was a little sore, but she helped him up
and man could he snore
He took me out on tours of his favorite haunts
Sides of his family with cousins and Aunt’s
Down in the country folk , with a **** well and some goats
He tried to teach me, his non-conformist son
He was never on the run, he was ever having fun
I was locked up in me, envy maybe?
Wanting to be him one day, not likely.
But in spite of me I was, I fought the genetic inevitability
They poured and he drank, then I heard boy that’s your cousin
Here I’m thinking I’m bout to get some country lovin
This non-conformist was genetically rearranging
Little by little I was becoming more engaging
I heard him say this one time
“Boy don’t tell your Mama” and he walked upstairs but I was quiet
Maybe I was more like him than I should
I was only five but understood
The mirror etched was more than a reflection
It was a connection to his soul, my sons like me I’m told
He’s a non-conformist and it shows
He’ll have his own tales to weave
And though I no longer grieve
That day I saw my father shave
Will forever be a part of me
Nov 3, 2015
Nov 3, 2015 at 11:02 AM UTC
I have this recurring dream
Of the greatest love I’ve ever known
I must have spent a lifetime
Never ever letting go
I made so many mistakes
But losing you was the worst
No other god-sent angel
Could ever lift this curse
The void that you left
Was my world come undone
You were the center of my universe
My bright and early sun
Unfortunately jealousy ruled
My very existence
My naivete never failed
My foolishness persisted
It was my way of keeping
My immature heart safe
I felt no need to grow up
And that sealed my fate
And you, you’re just a dream
I wish would never end
I’d give up all I have
To be with you again
Aug 21, 2014
Aug 21, 2014 at 7:47 AM UTC
a monster,
a monster,
you've created a monster
whiskey seems to be my holy water
I'll lead them on just to know I can
I'll make them love me, but it's only a scam
I want to say I'm sorry
but they should know they'll never scar me
a monster
a monster
you've created a monster
whiskey seems to be my holy water
I now see why you never bothered
Feb 8, 2013
Feb 8, 2013 at 7:28 PM UTC