"striping" poems
in the middle of a dark night
no moon or street light
and I could hardly see the road in front of me
but it was free
and so we settled
and thus we pedaled
more then 30 winding miles
into this wilderness of isles
or so it seemed
so very mean, just like a dream
he said "continue ,
for it is in you
and we can make it to the place
within an hour, at this pace."
his plan was brutal
I'm not a poodle
but I could truly smell the sweat
and feeling hot and sopping wet
it was no fun. at. all
and like the day y'all
so very done
again not fun
and it is true
that maybe you
would think ahead and plan the weekend
get a room and buy a map
none of this crap
(but I'm a sap
and went along with his idea
for I had hopes for us last year)
and so we learned
the hard way burned.
Well I could barely,
i say just barely
make out the single line white striping
while he's right behind me griping,
"can't you speed up?
we're gonna meet up
and the collision won't be pleasant"
not that pleasant was he were
so very DER!
it's so ironic, perhaps moronic
for there were headlights
coming up the hill in front
and to be blunt
they had to blind me
oh please don't mind me
for I quickly left the scene
right off the road
and with scream
into the blackness of a pitch
which sent me down into a ditch
a steep ravine
so very mean
and then the bike no longer able
to remain beneath my seat
after that drop
the roll to stop
landed on top
and not so sweet
so very beat
I said '"oh sheet"
I was not laughing,
nor was I crying
and but more like " could it be
dear Lord that I am dying?
Oh my God, excuse the curse
so freaking odd, though i've seen worse
and though my body's somewhat shaken
not a bone or tooth was breakin'
and I'm fully wide awake and
not a pain or any ache~
so very odd
it must be God.
and there I lie
perfectly high
my eyes wide open couldn't scope but
in the darkness I could *****
the rock beside my fallen hide
and in a moment not an omen
he said "Gee!"
"Is this your knee?"
I said: " Hey Mr. Moulder,
you've got my shoulder."
"I should have driven in the Bently"
and as he pulled the bike off gently
asking how these things do happen
"nevermind, just lets get snappin"
and we made it to the youth hostel that night.
Sep 14, 2013
Sep 14, 2013 at 10:41 PM UTC
Beauty keep chanting the ******
In a rhythm exorbitant to love
Pulling the strings of desire
While showing darkness to darkest
Apparently the appreciator
Wake up from the disgrace sleep
Start striping his own words
With a liberating humble smile
Let the universe go ****
And you too take off your clothes
Origin of the meaning of beauty
Worth all your eyes, heart and life
© shanikayrs
Nov 13, 2016
Nov 13, 2016 at 7:00 PM UTC
the world is flown
and i sleep beside you wed
our mossy appetite has become cleaved
a sleeve running between us on this bed
a warm hum the pores pipe open
intimacy issues forth traversing the gap
intelligence sliding slack and froth
like moist candy-floss icking and tearing
our shared dream
our powerful phantom
gussy travellers
ravelling in sheets of smoky sea
grey/green misting of the memory gland
gathering up dead celebrity
tuning structures to our jubilee
re-creation in a vibe theatre
we're partners conducting our behaviour
for a grand flotsam revelry
dizzed up and narcotic
no doubt ; we are unreal
it is the neon hour...
i flicker
feeling the rushing of your warm system
i feel weather speed over our bodies
striping and refreshing the energy
in the oil light blinking i see you
scar beauty over the berths' landscape
you turn the body over and illuminate the eyes
you are if to say "plug back in to our shared motion"
"we could be imperishable"
"i cannot return without my inconsiderate spouse"
you brush my hand which fizzes
and i clothe my eyes
re-enter our developing potion
within our great mouths feed alike
our dual nature is a shared gratification within
Feb 2, 2023
Feb 2, 2023 at 11:47 AM UTC
PSA: this is not a good poem, this is an explosion.
pacing
internal dialogue echoing within my fatty brain, overweight from months of stagnant vegetation.
one repetitive sentence feebly attempts to remove the attackers
“go away go away go away go away”
running
linoleum floors squeaking as my slippered feet find their grip,
praying that these feet don’t lead me to a kitchen full of knives, hungry to meet the stretch marks striping my newly obese thighs.
i’d rather have scars than these purple proofs of my inadequacy
the familiar hair-band meets my forearm for the first time in an age,
my vegetated brain slowly recognises this pattern from once before and the skills from months of therapy begin to kick in
breathe in
breathe out
falling
wondering how on earth i will live for seven more weeks
desperate to make my voice heard
but stumbling into silence as my head slams the wall and bounces off the floor
leaving me stuck in my own harrowing mind,
one that is far too tired, lonely and ill to fight for much longer.
Jun 21, 2014
Jun 21, 2014 at 10:50 AM UTC
When I first met Skully,
I was an ingenue in a silly fragile plastic body--
a nursery flat, a starter bed,
not yet Anne Of Queer Gables
magnificently not giving a ****
Back then,
I believed that Skully was stuffed like a bell pepper,
jammed to bursting with thoughts, dreams and
wisdom on every subject;
I didn't know, as we lay together under the ceiling fan,
that he was as vacant and distant as outer space.
He PEZed me kisses, bought me roomsful of useless junk,
and twisted me silly like a bonsai tree.
I let him.
Daydream starlets and archery targets both have curves,
and sit still for the incoming--
I spent a decade with Skully that way,
as if I'd done it with a porcupine and was proud of the damage.
Now, he sits like an unfortunate date brought to dinner--
big-eyed as a girl, smiling too much,
and adding nothing to the conversation.
Still, I can't bear to throw him out,
and so the dogs lug him around like a trophy,
scoring and striping him with their joyful teeth marks
and losing his mandible under the fold-out sofa.
My girlfriends tolerate him.
After all, he's dead, and won't start any stupid crap about threesomes.
The next door kids ask for him sometimes,
and they bowl him at empty pop bottles in the driveway.
I confess, though,
that late at night, when it's stormy, and I'm alone,
I pause before bouncing him down the basement stairs, and I say,
"Thank you, Skully,
for keeping me from having to be alone
in the years before I bloomed into my need for heart, flesh, soul,
and not just solid bone."
Then I lay one on his grinning kisser
and even add a little tongue
just to tease him
for the lack that made me leave him like a southbound bird
Sep 28, 2025
Sep 28, 2025 at 12:07 PM UTC
Its called manic depression.
When im riding that beautiful and fierce high, it feels like nothing will ever stop me. As if nobody could drop me fore i was floating away in the stars where nobody can touch me.
But atlas, we must all abide by the law of phsyics, every humans greatest weakness. we all know the dreded saying, "Once something goes up, it must always come down."
I never know what causes me to fall, it could be a word; to a voice. A phrase; to a smile. A song; to laugh. Nothing; to a smell.
Its this free fall into a never ending abyuss of hopelessness. Things that made me happy just moments ago, push me farther down below.
There is no fighting it, its not as simple as reaching my hands out and asking for help. Im binded together by my hands and feet, with a thick layer of duck tape covering my lips. Striping me of my dignity.
Its a constant struggle, suicidal tendencies reep across the corner, ready to pounce.
But somehow I manage to keep myself alive.
Somehow im still here.
Apr 17, 2018
Apr 17, 2018 at 3:03 AM UTC
8:25 am
“all i wanted was a little love”
says the voice in my head
and the black cord that connects my mind
to somebody else’s words
tugs at my heartstrings too
bright copper sunshine on fast-moving waves
dull glitter of ice over snow
spindly shadows of trees bent this way and that
striping grey concrete and faded yellow lines
slow clouds covering the last of the night
as it sinks into the roots of the day
“keep your hands to yourself”
says the voice in my head
it’s been one song
since i last heard those words
and i keep my hands to myself
and my mind outside
and my thoughts on the objects and values and colour
and not on the things i can’t see
i see a spreading warmth beyond the window
i feel the same thing in my bones
and i am unable to move now, unable
to turn my eyes away
outside, the cars pass by
and the water keeps flowing
and the sun keeps glowing
and it all looks the same, yet the longer i look
the more it changes
each day i look the same, and yet
i know i have changed
like a river slowly warming after winter
like the sun dissolving clouds around it, not with anger
but with something else
like the concrete of the road supporting those who cross it
this morning, sitting by the window
i had the urge to reach my hand out
and i don’t know why, or what for
but it seemed like the right thing to do
but i kept my hands to myself
i know
i am not ready yet
Mar 26, 2014
Mar 26, 2014 at 8:34 AM UTC
I held the rope tightly
Twisting it around my knuckles
Breathing softly whispering
This I what I want
This is what I need
This is what is right
Yes it is I shouted
Finally a way out
Standing up on my mother comforting bed
I tied the rope tightly around my mothers chandelier
Making sure it was secure
I tugged at the rope
Yes it's perfect
Jumping off the bed
I sprinted to my room at the end of the house
Quickly striping down to nothing
I quietly changed into my school uniform
I want to look my best for this
After I had laced up my shoes
I walked silently away back to my mothers room
She will be home soon and I knew it
Quickly jumping up onto the bed
Stumbling a little
I reached out to the waiting rope
Looking into the mirror I tied it firmly around my neck
One
Two
Three
I flew though the air
Stopping suddenly not to fall to the ground
The rope instantly cut off the air
I went limp
I was dead
Gone forever
Oct 9, 2013
Oct 9, 2013 at 12:34 AM UTC
Sky.
She is falling.
Crashing down upon me.
Crushing me beneath her overwhelmingly heavy weightlessness
While Beauty,
Striping herself from me.
Constantly escapes my needy grasp.
Then Pain
She singes me
Burning deep into my flesh
As she holds fast onto my heart.
Squeezing its rhythmic thumping in her tight grasp.
Killing me.
All while waiting on Death,
And searching for Perfection.
Dying for Joy,
And crying for my savior.
Who never showed up...
© 2013 Kendra Bowman
Oct 8, 2013
Oct 8, 2013 at 1:36 AM UTC
Baby something has to be done here,
or I might as well just burn.
'Cause everytime I think about you,
my stomach completely turns.
I'm falling into a twisted dream,
where your love is filled with pain.
Making tears roll down my cheeks,
as if it were pouring rain.
You take me in your arms,
and sqeeze me very tight.
You tell me you'll never leave me,
and that everything will be alright.
But we both know what happens next,
even though this came unplanned.
We can get through this together,
taking life in with an extra hand.
To show each other there's more to us,
that the little bit of lust.
That's getting us further into time,
slowly striping our unsolved trust.
But this is more than just a fatal mark,
that doesn't last through life.
We can make it through an eternity,
if we learn how to make a sacrafice.
Baby I'm hanging on to you with all,
and I'm never letting go.
You can break my heart a million times,
but our love will still fatally grow.
It's never gonna be enough,
to take me away from the truth.
'Cause everything I'm looking for,
is held deep inside of you.
I can see the pain in your eyes,
that pulls us apart more and more.
But we'll get through this horrid day,
by finding another open door.
I know thongs don't always turn out right,
but todays just another day.
So look back at what happend,
and remember you were the one to say.
"Baby I know things like this happen,
and all you want to do is die.
But when it comes to thinking like that,
just look up at the sky.
I'm the star that shines upon your heart,
making sure you're doing alright.
And I let the moonlight take its toll,
as I kiss your lips for a final goodnight."
Feb 12, 2011
Feb 12, 2011 at 9:00 PM UTC
you’ve got it all wrong, momma.
flaunting your grief,
striping that poor sycamore down to a ghost off tree.
we revel in skeletons,
and find the clean lines
that divide
what is right and what is wrong.
sensous and economical,
the dead sing us songs i am learning to answer.
you would never understand the appeal
of power.
am i a hypothetical to you?
bow to me, forgotten godesss.
broken girls find solace in persephone.
i’m learning new words like pomegranate,
a word you can **** on.
pom- thick, round, bittersweet bulge.
e- the one you slide over to get to gran,
a slow swelling, cancer or the rose.
finally granate, stones stopping your heart cold.
pomegranate, a word you spit out, seeds sticking to your teeth,. don’t you see i never could have stayed?
you only want gods who water your crops, who let you bow beneath their thrones, if you do so quietly.
i want my own throne, and i want to be loud. i want to disscus the fulitlity of existence, the burden of immortality.
i want a life like my dearest pomegranates,
bittersweet and complex.
in short, i left for a reason.
i am not your daughter anymore.
Jan 6, 2019
Jan 6, 2019 at 4:47 PM UTC
As we talked the tension kept rising.
Both of us removing the fog from our mirror,
Striping each other of our disguises.
You blame me for the things that you have done.
Throwing your body upon me getting an arise out of me,
Yet you say I sang the song you have sung.
You hate surprises this is no surprise to me,
Funny because every time I let you back in,
You surprise me!
Now you say I flirt?
That you worry about my connections?
Odd. My feelings are inert.
You give a hug to every guy you see, I wave casually.
You talk to them on and on, I give a quick hi and then so long.
You talk **** about me, when I am standing right there!
I don't dare but clearly you don't care.
You say it's over...
I don't know what you mean.
You say the conversation,
I disagree.
You shout a "No!" and say your sorry at once.
Another "I love you" thrown at me.
I repeat it back, as if I've been doing it for months...
Dec 19, 2011
Dec 19, 2011 at 9:01 PM UTC
i would wake
singing your mind
painting myself
purple and blue
Striping myself of my usual camouflage
you painted to match
but then you added pink
and now there's no more purple left
so i scrub
and paint myself yellow
to Alex
Jun 28, 2012
Jun 28, 2012 at 11:29 AM UTC
It was a warm sunny morning
so I went for a stroll in the park
and blow me if I did not spy
an elephant by a tree striping bark
Suddenly it turned and with a cry
it did trot slowly up to me
how sweet was the little animal
I picked up my pace and it did follow me
So I took the lost creature home
just about fitted through my front door
I took it into my kitchen
lucky I did as it relieved itself all over the floor
So as I went to get a bucket and mop
and then I did hear a tremendous crash
rushing back to see what had happened
the creature had crashed through my back door
and was eating the flowers in my garden
I pushed the fellow with all my might
to get him out of the neighbours sight
after cleaning up his watery mess
I left him there and went to bed
and when I did awake he was laying by my head
Next day I did know what to do
I picked the phone up and called the zoo
they came with a truck at midday
and I waved goodbye as they took him away
By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
By NeonSolaris
© 2013 NeonSolaris (All rights reserved)
Aug 12, 2013
Aug 12, 2013 at 9:28 PM UTC
You are the morning light
Streaming through the gauzy curtains that dress my window
Striping my skin in ribbons of sunshine
I am the canvas of your dawn.
You are the cool flame that shoots across the sky
Every night that my thoughts settle upon your sweet face
Brilliantly throwing itself through the darkness of late evening
I am the one who wishes for you.
You are the craters in the moon
Imperfect and untouched
Leaving identical impactions on my heart
I search for your face in the glow of her own.
You are the fervent blazing of the sun
Radiating love that scorches the flesh
Shining down on me like beams of genuine joy
I am infinitely grateful for your eternal reverberation of tenderness.
Oct 21, 2024
Oct 21, 2024 at 8:21 PM UTC
MY OWN MISERY
Oh, how you love to see me weep
in so much pain;
you tell me you love the rain
it gives you so much strength
by living off my misery.
when my life is going right
you would do whatever it takes
to see my heart break,
you said the day will come
when someone will put my heart on the run
you call that fun;
I never thought it would be
my own child that would cut me deep,
now look at me I can no longer sleep
or eat because all I do is weep,
soon comes the fear
that hangs near;
Oh, how I truly feel the emptiness
of all those years, I gave my whole life
to the child, I hold dear;
left me in tears,
forgiveness will always be in my heart
even while I’m bleed out like ink
for the whole world to see me broken
but again, this would be my haters token,
where is the respect?
I am home alone
asking myself what is it I was doing wrong
why am I losing everything I love?
my child is now so grown up,
I had never lived a life for myself
all those negative feelings of loneliness
came rushing in like a wildfire of true
agony of bleeding pains
the cuts are so deep
I felt I could no longer breath
I even thought for a moment
my heart stop beating,
all those memories of my life
beat upon my me until I was broken
deeper than life ever could hand me,
this pain is stripping, taking everything
from me;
drain ever part of goodness from me
leaving me powerless
while I hear the evil ones
laughing at my pains
hoping for rain to come my way to stay,
I have no strength left in me,
this pain of letting go of what I truly love
Is really bringing me down to my knees
begging God to help me,
because this pain I feel
is striping me from all that I had ever live for.
Within the hours my child
walked back in the door
and that was the end of the war.
Poetic Judy Emery © 2017
The Queen of Darken Dreams Poetic Lilly Emery
Mar 29, 2017
Mar 29, 2017 at 2:38 PM UTC
i hear your screams
and unsung songs
above the flying tide
and in the foam
frothing free
you'll feel my earthly touch
dont push away
from the shore
with hands of grassy sand
reach out to me
with shades of blue
and striping dissonance
and when they mix
to form anew
place alone in time
you'll wonder where
the colors went and
how we learned to fly
Feb 21, 2017
Feb 21, 2017 at 11:47 AM UTC
MY OWN MISERY
Oh, how you love to see me weep
in so much pain;
you tell me you love the rain
it gives you so much strength
by living off my misery.
when my life is going right
you would do whatever it takes
to see my heart break,
you said the day will come
when someone will put my heart on the run
you call that fun;
I never thought it would be
my own child that would cut me deep,
now look at me I can no longer sleep
or eat because all I do is weep,
soon comes the fear
that hangs near;
Oh, how I truly feel the emptiness
of all those years, I gave my whole life
to the child, I hold dear;
left me in tears,
forgiveness will always be in my heart
even while I’m bleed out like ink
for the whole world to see me broken
but again, this would be my haters token,
where is the respect?
I am home alone
asking myself what is it I was doing wrong
why am I losing everything I love?
my child is now so grown up,
I had never lived a life for myself
all those negative feelings of loneliness
came rushing in like a wildfire of true
agony of bleeding pains
the cuts are so deep
I felt I could no longer breath
I even thought for a moment
my heart stop beating,
all those memories of my life
beat upon my me until I was broken
deeper than life ever could hand me,
this pain is stripping, taking everything
from me;
drain ever part of goodness from me
leaving me powerless
while I hear the evil ones
laughing at my pains
hoping for rain to come my way to stay,
I have no strength left in me,
this pain of letting go of what I truly love
Is really bringing me down to my knees
begging God to help me,
because this pain I feel
is striping me from all that I had ever live for.
Within the hours my child
walked back in the door
and that was the end of the war.
Poetic Judy Emery © 2017
The Queen of Darken Dreams Poetic Lilly Emery
Mar 29, 2017
Mar 29, 2017 at 2:02 PM UTC
The things you seem tethered to... that connection will be lost
In the best way, itll be natural in the way it was always meant to be
Seasons will tangle and untangle into eachother like the loves that come and go in peace
Youll stop hitting that unforgiving brick wall
Cause you will no longer turn your back to change
Youll run to it, understand it accommodate it, let it do what it must do to you-
root you further into yourself
See, you'd been seeing it all wrong, its not a colonialist, striping you, leaving you bare.
Stand in the rain, and say amen, its beautiful its happening. so it is.
Post rain, when all the creatures sniff the air, Youll smell love coming in, go slow, stick your hand outside that window and let the sun make love to your skin, call it what it is this time. And perhaps they are the sun. Drawing you out of the shadows, reminding you that its never too late to live the lives you always wanted to, you can go back and forth and you will remain constant. Anchored.
Post-rain, with you the grass is greener, you are enough for everything that surrounds you, and You take no credit.
Its like. Its like. Its like
I wrote you to life
Apr 29, 2016
Apr 29, 2016 at 6:31 PM UTC
"Hmmm..."
A snipe of thought that sigh my heart
Breaking the cartilage in pieces
Letting the blood drip in torns
Striping me of my smile
Yet I force out one
That stray off in miles
The loose of her suckling child
Throw a hard blow
Right beneath the belt of labor
The look on her face
The ravishing hope
Her smile that lit up hers
All went out dark
Taste of pain saddles
At the right wreath of her teeth
She mourn in silence
Yet,in distress
When she lay to rest
Ewatomi agonizing scream
Tears her bleeding heart
Her dreams took a mare shape
Either night or day
She would yell out of sleep
Searching all corners and nooks
For the dead bear
Her sanity seems flashing out of her
The pain of labor stung too often
Once she murmurs to herself
Twice she gives out a loud sigh
"Ewatomi".. An inscription
That often ends each sigh
And as for me
Who watched her glow away in pain
And fed from her hurt
My heart filled with mournings
I could only repress mine
To help heal ours
For what indeed could be compared
To the agony of labor
And the wrecking pain attached
To not been able to withhold the bear you gave life
Cos the sailing of death's ship
Had visit with a loud bang...
May 17, 2015
May 17, 2015 at 2:20 PM UTC
Red stimulates my world
More than just my pants
The sound of its music
Makes me crazed and dangerous
I can hear it scream my name
My heart becomes suicidal
Do I say what l feel
No feelings are for the doc
I anit got time for this
No I would rather watch golf
Suddenly blue enters the picture
Consuming my whole
Knocking on my door
I run to answer it
It takes me in its arms
Gives me a good night
Turns around and ***** on my face
Tells me I’m pretty
And then lives me to die
Yellow passes by and shows me a good time
Gives me what I wanted
In exchange for its heart
I know I should care
But I care for it like ****** cares for Jews
I crushed it
But it feel good beneath my heel
Especially when Blue reared its handsome head
Green came in my hour of need
Blue broke my heart and left me barren
In the lights of the city
Green nursed me back to health
Illumining what was dead within
Out of rage I found it
Put in pleasure I praised the moment
Green was gone never to be seen again
Purple was violent with my soul
Striping me of innocence
Leaving me wounded and bleeding
God condemned me there
Or at least his idea did
When I think of purple
Armies of rage erupt in fire
No matter the hue Blue will return
Courting me to ecstasy
Robbing me of pride
The cursing my name
Yet red doesn’t not do this
It brings me to euphoria
Blue fights for my body
Red longs for my heart
Hear I stand a stagnate white
Caught in the spectrum
That Colors my world
Oct 21, 2014
Oct 21, 2014 at 11:41 AM UTC
I was calling you today
on the middle of a bridge
that lit up colors
striping through the
night skies
i like looking at
and i thought of all the times i had spent
chasing dreams, chasing chasing chasing
fat stacks of money a sense of accomplishment a life worth living
and i thought
thought about my life and its trajectory
through the streets of broken stones
spent staring at cracks on pavement
there is this hollow feeling in my chest
i feel a conscious space there
there is this empty feeling in my brain
it feels disconnected from my body
they do not respond to my emotions
i reach for a smile but my lips do not respond right
i am walking but my legs feel so light
but my arms feel heavy
my head remains bowed
but friend,
where are you
i have forgotten what you look like
Mar 21, 2017
Mar 21, 2017 at 1:14 PM UTC