"tanner" poems
‘Tis your pennies that make me pound,
Like a shepherd mourning his fallen hound ,
Such is the death of my drunken pride ,
That makes winter , a poet’s bride .
‘Tis your comfort , I wish to skin,
And the game of chance , that scripted your win,
Such is the shine of a tanner’s hide,
That make’s winter , a poet’s bride .
‘Twas your charity that made me wait,
On the doorsteps of your divine’s hate ,
Such are the Churches I laid aside ,
To make winter, the Poet’s bride .
Realization Strikes
I can’t rhyme my way to the kingdom of warmth
But I can roam the streets ,
Like I always did ,
In search of warmth
And Roam I did
I roamed that Street ,
Where the City pretends to be what its not .
I roamed those Hearts who call that Street,
Home of their Christmas thought .
I roamed it all ,
Till the fairy lights were there to help me see ,
But Alas ,
I found no warmth where they promised it would always be ,
But Instead ,
Not Far away from the echoes of the city making merry .
I found an abandoned cemetery,
And in the Sea of unmarked graves,
I heard the voices of forgotten braves;
And So,
I learnt the art , Of braving the Chill,
Without a survivor’s iron will .
I learnt to sleep without a care ,
And immune I became to winter’s nightmare .
Dec 29, 2014
Dec 29, 2014 at 11:39 AM UTC
I am the **** in your pristine garden,
Hidden between the Hollyhocks and Petunias,
Unwanted, I lift my head high,
Invasive, pervasive, you hate me.
You spray me with emotional roundup.
You wish I would simply go away
Crushed under your foot yesterday,
I wilted under your hate.
Resurrected by the creators love,
In joy I dance to his music,
That floats on the wind.
I am a rose of Sharon,
Planted firmly in the dirt.
Hated by you for just being,
The one who made me loves me,
He loves me unconditionally.
Planted in the wilderness,
Where he walks in search
Of those who seek his name.
If you see me know that, he is near.
Yet you hate me for being the ****
Invasive that shows up in the cracks,
Of your frequent well-beaten paths of hatred.
You stomp on me, mangled I lie still.
Revived by my God who loves me.
Someday he will do justice,
Someday he will show them mercy,
Them that failed to love his creation.
He animates me an earthen vessel,
With emotions triggered by fluid actions,
His loving smile, His tender touch,
In his love and goodness, I find joy.
The joy that effuses and rises to my brain,
Like a flooding sea of contentment,
Knowing that in him I have rest, I am secure and calm.
From your bitterness, that floods my feet,
He produces exquisite flowers and sweetest fruits.
Freely I give the love I receive,
As fragrance it wafts on the breeze,
Used to the smell of death and dying,
The Tanner smelling the fragrance of Love and Life faints.
They revive him with curing leather from the tannery.
Someday the tanner will appreciate fragrance,
Someday the night shift miner appreciate the light,
Someday those that cry for war will love peace,
Someday those that hate others learn to love.
Someday those that clang pots and pans in raucous cacophony,
Will find peace and quiet in his sweet rhapsodies and quiet melodies.
And the promoters of the ugliest of ugliness,
Love the beauty of God's creation.
Some day will this enslaved and captive soul fly free?
Forever free in the plains of Eternity.
Sep 27, 2012
Sep 27, 2012 at 2:37 PM UTC
Cheesecake,
o’ Cheesecake.
I can still remember
the day you were born.
But how sad it was,
since your life only lasted for a couple of minutes
because
I ate you right away.
Your delicious fragrance,
arose
from your mom’s tummy, which was named
The Oven.
Your skin got tanner, and tanner
as your body grew;
luckily, you
were not overcooked.
I waited
for the moment you came out
and it was
magic.
Your stunning golden skin,
so tanned
and ****
I turned out being a beast
and you were the beauty
who caught my eyes
without a second delayed.
And the perfume you wore that day
smelled beautiful, too,
as if I would bite you
with hunger.
Mmm’ creamy flesh
with cheesy flavour,
spread in my mouth
every bit of yours.
You gave me a dilemma, since
I wanted you to live
for me
to embrace your beauty;
I wanted you to die
in my mouth
with satisfaction.
Your splendid funeral
in my stomach
was as great as many others’.
Don’t be sad
for leaving me soon
don’t regret
dying young.
I love you
and
I’m sure
one day soon you
will reincarnate
as another
Cheesecake baby.
Apr 18, 2016
Apr 18, 2016 at 12:21 PM UTC
The sheets were soft and crumpled underneath my back and my mind was wandering even though this wasn’t the time for that, and I thought about how much I always loved the feeling of bare skin against sheets, year round, even when it was far too cold for it to be a reasonable thing to do. There’s something **** about just being naked, as simplistic as it sounds. With only his skin, my hair, and the sheets touching my body, I felt exposed but I also felt strong, which was an interesting mix of emotions. I knew I should have been more fixated on what was going on (he certainly was) but I always feel somewhat disconnected from my body and having someone else touch it made it feel even more foreign. It wasn’t unpleasant to have his hands all over me, maybe just a little disappointing and I suddenly wanted to push him off me and go for a walk outside where the air could fill my lungs. Stuffy. It was stuffy in his room, I thought. The distinctly boyish smell of deodorant and sweat mingled with the fake perfume of the candle I remembered to bring and it was was suffocating me. Outside, I could hear his little brother playing loudly in the yard and I wanted to be a little kid again but instead I was inside in a darkened room doing things that seemed too adult for my body and things I used to tell myself I would never do. I liked his brother; he was a sweet kid and last spring I took him to the park a few times when the older boy on top of me had work at the bodega down the street. It felt ***** to hear his childish yells and I wanted more than ever to leave, but the strange more-than-friends relationship with this boy meant that he wanted this once in a while and I liked him more than I had admitted to anyone yet. The cracks in his ceiling were familiar to me by now and once, after we--fucked? made love? I still didn’t know what to call it-- he told me that the first night I came over, drunk and crying, he had to run to peel off the glow in the dark stars that had still been up, a remnant from his childhood, and I found this endearing and I had kissed him again for that. One of his hands was running through my hair now and I stroked his chest, which was leaner and tanner than my bluish-white hands. In the back of my mind I thought I might love him but it could have been his body between my thighs. I could never be sure.
Feb 22, 2014
Feb 22, 2014 at 7:13 PM UTC
a hug that smelled like last summer.
'you didn't have to drive all this way for me'
it took me two hours
on the backroads because the freeway is scary
lost in neighborhoods where everything looked the same,
rows of shiny white teeth. it never crossed my mind to miss it.
how do his eyes burn impossibly blue,
even under the awning?
'the thing is, i had to'
he understood,
he understood just then that i was the girl he loved second best
and a sore loser always eyes the trophy cravingly
before walking away small.
'i'll miss you'
whose to say? i'll take silver & wonder if he ever wrote to
the other redhead.
Feb 16, 2011
Feb 16, 2011 at 11:37 AM UTC
To a cat in a cul-de-sac,
she's a stone rose,
malaise with no remorse and a penchant for suicidal grammar.
Backsassing and backroom massaging
her way from Tanner, Illinois to Irving, Texas --
her interstate veins and her data plan brain
catered to the orifices of the weary,
and soothed the spidertongued and sleepy.
In the last postcard, she signed Evangeline,
the number of name changes: 23
in the Sunflower State alone.
A dive bar in Ulysses, Kansas
beamed as a brilliant model of
"Starved wives and stray dogs," Evangeline explained.
*"I found the dark side of beet farmers
and the redemption in callused hands."*
A letter came from Pryor, Oklahoma:
"Recognize the perfume?"
The only line.
Printer paper close, inhale --
my mind drifts to my former
high cheekbone'd bride, Skye.
Evangeline bedded her spindly body.
Spite, spite, spite.
Confused, I answered her call on the
first morning of December.
Tent living with a retired acrobat on
the growing shoreline of Lake Texoma,
she downed a mixed bag of his sleeping meds,
and sleeping by his side, she fantasized about me.
*"I think you drank too much in my dreams.
I woke up dissatisfied."*
Once she arrived in Irving, I mailed her
my edit of her suicide note.
A call to say it looked good,
and she'd let me know if she ever had
to use it.
I never heard from her again.
Jul 8, 2012
Jul 8, 2012 at 12:32 AM UTC
One of these days, I'll move out of this place.
The Greyness making saving throws at my shadow, but my resolve concrete, and my vision clear, each step away being a decision.
The television will dim, and the sun'll get hotter.
And my skin will be tanner.
And I'll smoke more of everything.
One day we'll be sitting in my backyard, laughing at ourselves, for ever thinking we were "far away from this."
We'll marvel at the greenness of the grass and the blueness of the sky and the anger of the heat and the deception of the trees.
We'll argue about whether thirty can be as big as five can be small.
We'll mix gin with our Newports and ash cigars into Dunkin Brand Styrofoam.
The memories will blur, but the lessons stand steadfast.
One day is often quite a few days away.
Quite a few rounds of poker, about a thousand movies, a couple billion YouTube clips, and at least three unfinished projects.
The slime gets thicker every day, and we're never given the assurance that our boots can take the inevitable torment.
But once in a while, I can think of the future.
I get stuck on tracing the outline you'll have two years from now, coloring it in with shades of pink and red paint, and writing your name over it in grease and alcohol.
Hoping to make the image as permanent as the ringing of someone perpetually calling out for you, reappropriating all the muted spaces in my head.
And hearing it shouted, again and again, and seeing it written in places unseen, can somehow make one day seem more like tomorrow.
Jun 27, 2014
Jun 27, 2014 at 8:25 PM UTC
I am the **** in your pristine garden,
Hidden between the Hollyhocks and Petunias,
Unwanted, I lift my head high,
Invasive, pervasive, you hate me.
You spray me with emotional roundup.
You wish I would simply go away
Crushed under your foot yesterday,
I wilted under your hate.
Resurrected by the creators love,
In joy I dance to his music,
That floats on the wind.
I am a rose of Sharon,
Planted firmly in the dirt.
Hated by you for just being,
I am loved by the one who made me,
Loved unconditionally.
Planted in the wilderness,
Where he walks in search
Of those who seek his name.
If you see me know that he is near.
Yet you hate me for being the ****
Invasive, that shows up in the cracks,
Of your well beaten paths.
You stomp on me, mangled I lie still.
Revived by God who loves me.
Someday he will do justice,
Someday he will show them mercy,
For failing to love his creation.
He animates me an earthen vessel,
With emotions triggered by fluid actions,
His loving smile, His tender touch,
In his love and goodness I find joy.
The joy that effuses and rises to my brain,
In its flooding sea of contentment,
Knowing that in him I have rest I am secure and calm.
From your bitterness that floods my feet,
He produces exquisite flowers and sweetest fruits.
Freely I give the love I receive,
As fragrance it wafts on the breeze,
Used to the smell of death and dying,
The Tanner smelling the fragrance of Love and Life faints.
They revive him with curing leather from the tannery.
Someday the tanner will appreciate fragrance,
Someday the night shift miner appreciate the light,
Someday those that cry for war will love peace,
Someday those that hate others learn to love.
Someday those that clang pots and pans in raucous cacophony,
Will find peace and quiet in his sweet rhapsodies and quiet melodies.
And the promoters of the ugliest of ugliness,
Love the beauty of God's creation.
Some day will the enslaved and captive soul fly free,
Forever free in the plains of Eternity.
Sep 27, 2012
Sep 27, 2012 at 2:07 PM UTC
I am the **** in your pristine garden,
Hidden between the Hollyhocks and Petunias,
Unwanted, I lift my head high,
Invasive, pervasive, you hate me.
You spray me with emotional roundup.
You wish I would simply go away
Crushed under your foot yesterday,
I wilted under your hate.
Resurrected by the creators love,
In joy I dance to his music,
That floats on the wind.
I am a rose of Sharon,
Planted firmly in the dirt.
Hated by you for just being,
I am loved by the one who made me,
Loved unconditionally.
Planted in the wilderness,
Where he walks in search
Of those who seek his name.
If you see me know that he is near.
Yet you hate me for being the ****
Invasive, that shows up in the cracks,
Of your well beaten paths.
You stomp on me, mangled I lie still.
Revived by God who loves me.
Someday he will do justice,
Someday he will show them mercy,
For failing to love his creation.
He animates me an earthen vessel,
With emotions triggered by fluid actions,
His loving smile, His tender touch,
In his love and goodness I find joy.
The joy that effuses and rises to my brain,
Like a flooding sea of contentment,
Knowing that in him I have rest, I am secure and calm.
From your bitterness that floods my feet,
He produces exquisite flowers and sweetest fruits.
Freely I give the love I receive,
As fragrance it wafts on the breeze,
Used to the smell of death and dying,
The Tanner smelling the fragrance of Love and Life faints.
They revive him with curing leather from the tannery.
Someday the tanner will appreciate fragrance,
Someday the night shift miner appreciate the light,
Someday those that cry for war will love peace,
Someday those that hate others learn to love.
Someday those that clang pots and pans in raucous cacophony,
Will find peace and quiet in his sweet rhapsodies and quiet melodies.
And the promoters of the ugliest of ugliness,
Love the beauty of God's creation.
Some day will the enslaved and captive soul fly free,
Forever free in the plains of Eternity.
Sep 27, 2012
Sep 27, 2012 at 2:17 PM UTC
Just stop trying to be someone who you're not,
Because evidently, it hurts a lot.
Stop the staring and wishing to be someone that's not you,
All the unwanted thoughts passing through.
A head filled with endless wants and needs,
Desire for illusions, my helpless heart bleeds.
Stop all the complaining and fuss,
With all the fights, who’s to trust?
You are not inferior to any of thee,
But through those faded pupils, can you see?
Do you notice the world around you?
Or are you too oblivious, so lost, so blue?
Just get over your interrogating feelings of doubt,
Strive beyond your abilities; go all out.
Know what to expect from your actions,
Superior or inferior, the omnipotent fraction.
Simply love yourself and only you,
Forget the haters with nothing better to do.
Handle life's challenges in a way a unified manner,
Instead of debating who is tanner.
Live for the moment and appreciate all the love,
You have always received near and above.
Stop fooling with your mind,
Sobbing away till clearly blind.
Let yourself know we all think differently through everything,
That without you, it'd be lifeless; all the personality you bring.
We all have the power to try,
maybe then our minds won't die.
Try something riveting and new,
Something you are proud to call you.
Stop trying to love thee,
A fool, a coward you would be.
Love yourself above all,
But care for others and proudly stand tall.
Yes, I said love and not hate,
break past the open gate.
Express yourself for what you want,
Easing of tensions, by detente.
Stop all the excuses and lying,
The unreal attitude you have, the fake crying.
Trapped in portieres,
All the feelings of distrust, how unfair!
So let’s close the portieres of guilt,
And cover up with a nice, warm quilt.
A good night’s rest will do the trick,
For a poor one, who's psychologically sick.
It will help alleviate the pain,
To feel some comfort, once again.
Stop hurting yourself and feeling down,
That ashamed, guilty, timid frown.
You will learn to love,
And give those unjust feelings a great shove.
Go have fun and smile wide,
Because no matter what, when, where, why...
Everybody is on your side.
Jul 20, 2013
Jul 20, 2013 at 3:46 PM UTC
I am the **** in your pristine garden,
Hidden between the Hollyhocks and Petunias,
Unwanted, I lift my head high,
Invasive, pervasive, you hate me.
You spray me with emotional roundup.
You wish I would simply go away
Crushed under your foot yesterday,
I wilted under your hate.
Resurrected by the creators love,
In joy I dance to his music,
That floats on the wind.
I am a rose of Sharon,
Planted firmly in the dirt.
Hated by you for just being,
The one who made me loves me,
He loves me unconditionally.
Planted in the wilderness,
Where he walks in search
Of those who seek his name.
If you see me know that, he is near.
Yet you hate me for being the ****
Invasive that shows up in the cracks,
Of the well-beaten paths of hatred, you frequent.
You stomp on me, mangled I lie still.
Revived by my God who loves me.
Someday he will do justice,
Someday he will show them mercy,
Them that failed to love his creation.
He animates me an earthen vessel,
With emotions triggered by fluid actions,
His loving smile, His tender touch,
In his love and goodness, I find joy.
The joy that effuses and rises to my brain,
Like a flooding sea of contentment,
Knowing that in him I have rest, I am secure and calm.
From your bitterness, that floods my feet,
He produces exquisite flowers and sweetest fruits.
Freely I give the love I receive,
As fragrance it wafts on the breeze,
Used to the smell of death and dying,
The Tanner smelling the fragrance of Love and Life faints.
They revive him with curing leather from the tannery.
Someday the tanner will appreciate fragrance,
Someday the night shift miner appreciate the light,
Someday those that cry for war will love peace,
Someday those that hate others learn to love.
Someday those that clang pots and pans in raucous cacophony,
Will find peace and quiet in his sweet rhapsodies and quiet melodies.
And the promoters of the ugliest of ugliness,
Love the beauty of God's creation.
Some day will this enslaved and captive soul fly free?
Forever free in the plains of Eternity.
Sep 27, 2012
Sep 27, 2012 at 2:35 PM UTC
I am the **** in your pristine garden,
Hidden between the Hollyhocks and Petunias,
Unwanted, I lift my head high,
Invasive, pervasive, you hate me.
You spray me with emotional roundup.
You wish I would simply go away
Crushed under your foot yesterday,
I wilted under your hate.
Resurrected by the creators love,
In joy I dance to his music,
That floats on the wind.
I am a rose of Sharon,
Planted firmly in the dirt.
Hated by you for just being,
The one who made me loves me,
He loves me unconditionally.
Planted in the wilderness,
Where he walks in search
Of those who seek his name.
If you see me know that, he is near.
Yet you hate me for being the ****
Invasive that shows up in the cracks,
Of the well-beaten paths of hatred, you frequent.
You stomp on me, mangled I lie still.
Revived by my God who loves me.
Someday he will do justice,
Someday he will show them mercy,
Them that failed to love his creation.
He animates me an earthen vessel,
With emotions triggered by fluid actions,
His loving smile, His tender touch,
In his love and goodness, I find joy.
The joy that effuses and rises to my brain,
Like a flooding sea of contentment,
Knowing that in him I have rest, I am secure and calm.
From your bitterness, that floods my feet,
He produces exquisite flowers and sweetest fruits.
Freely I give the love I receive,
As fragrance it wafts on the breeze,
Used to the smell of death and dying,
The Tanner smelling the fragrance of Love and Life faints.
They revive him with curing leather from the tannery.
Someday the tanner will appreciate fragrance,
Someday the night shift miner appreciate the light,
Someday those that cry for war will love peace,
Someday those that hate others learn to love.
Someday those that clang pots and pans in raucous cacophony,
Will find peace and quiet in his sweet rhapsodies and quiet melodies.
And the promoters of the ugliest of ugliness,
Love the beauty of God's creation.
Some day will this enslaved and captive soul fly free?
Forever free in the plains of Eternity.
Sep 27, 2012
Sep 27, 2012 at 2:33 PM UTC
I am the **** in your pristine garden,
Hidden between the Hollyhocks and Petunias,
Unwanted, I lift my head high,
Invasive, pervasive, you hate me.
You spray me with emotional roundup.
You wish I would simply go away
Crushed under your foot yesterday,
I wilted under your hate.
Resurrected by the creators love,
In joy I dance to his music,
That floats on the wind.
I am a rose of Sharon,
Planted firmly in the dirt.
Hated by you for just being,
The one who made me loves me,
He loves me unconditionally.
Planted in the wilderness,
Where he walks in search
Of those who seek his name.
If you see me know that, he is near.
Yet you hate me for being the ****
Invasive that shows up in the cracks,
Of your frequent well-beaten paths of hatred.
You stomp on me, mangled I lie still.
Revived by my God who loves me.
Someday he will do justice,
Someday he will show them mercy,
Them that failed to love his creation.
He animates me an earthen vessel,
With emotions triggered by fluid actions,
His loving smile, His tender touch,
In his love and goodness, I find joy.
The joy that effuses and rises to my brain,
Like a flooding sea of contentment,
Knowing that in him I have rest, I am secure and calm.
From your bitterness, that floods my feet,
He produces exquisite flowers and sweetest fruits.
Freely I give the love I receive,
As fragrance it wafts on the breeze,
Used to the smell of death and dying,
The Tanner smelling the fragrance of Love and Life faints.
They revive him with curing leather from the tannery.
Someday the tanner will appreciate fragrance,
Someday the night shift miner appreciate the light,
Someday those that cry for war will love peace,
Someday those that hate others learn to love.
Someday those that clang pots and pans in raucous cacophony,
Will find peace and quiet in his sweet rhapsodies and quiet melodies.
And the promoters of the ugliest of ugliness,
Love the beauty of God's creation.
Some day will this enslaved and captive soul fly free?
Forever free in the plains of Eternity.
Sep 27, 2012
Sep 27, 2012 at 2:37 PM UTC
Teresa!?!
~Tanner!
Terribly
Tardy?
Ticktock ;)
~Time?
T-minus
10
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
2
-
12:00am!
~2020!!!
2020!!!
Tequila
Toast!
~Tequilla
Toast—
To
2020!!!
To
2020!!!
~Terviseks!
Terviseks!
~Tasty :)
Tequilla
Tesoro
~Tesoro?
Translated
"Treasure"
~Tasty
Treasure ;)
Top-notch!
~Tip-top!
(tender
touch...)
~Terrific
Timing :)
Terrific
Time...
~Totally
Thoughts?
~Tired
Terrible
Timing :(
~Terribly
Tuckered.
Together
Tonight?
~Together
Tomorrow?
Together
Today!
12:00pm :)
~That's
True!
Today,
12:00pm :)
Terrific!
~Till
Then—
Tootles!
© 2020 by Mark Toney. All rights reserved.
Jan 18, 2020
Jan 18, 2020 at 12:58 PM UTC
******* me so I cannot follow
Your hopscotch stumble. Tie my laces
Around the oak by Allbrook Elementary, handcuff
My wrists to the swing set of mauve plastic
And chipped cedar. Tether me in youth.
Leave me at the fudge shop on 73rd
Across from Sunday school and St. Joseph’s
Candy Land windows. Hide me beneath
Tanner Bridge as you shuffle away like some star-struck Cupid
After a ginger-haired mademoiselle in old-fashioned Mary Jane’s
And a mustard petticoat. Forget
Our first clumsy kiss, feet naked in cool creek water,
Toes nibbled by baby rainbow trout.
Bury our history of 18 years
Beside the grave of your granddaddy and
Put on your mask. You've lost me
To ambitions set high above Stanford red.
You don’t see the colors of home anymore.
Sep 21, 2014
Sep 21, 2014 at 11:32 AM UTC
Just stop trying to be someone who you're not,
Because evidently, it hurts a lot.
Stop the staring and wishing to be someone that's not you,
All the unwanted thoughts passing through.
A head filled with endless wants and needs,
Desire for illusions, my helpless heart bleeds.
Stop all the complaining and fuss,
With all the fights, who’s to trust?
You are not inferior to any of thee,
But through those faded pupils, can you see?
Do you notice the world around you?
Or are you too oblivious, so lost, so blue?
Just get over your interrogating feelings of doubt,
Strive beyond your abilities; go all out.
Know what to expect from your actions,
Superior or inferior, the omnipotent fraction.
Simply love yourself and only you,
Forget the haters with nothing better to do.
Handle life's challenges in a way a unified manner,
Instead of debating who is tanner.
Live for the moment and appreciate all the love,
You have always received near and above.
Stop fooling with your mind,
Sobbing away till clearly blind.
Let yourself know we all think differently through everything,
That without you, it'd be lifeless; all the personality you bring.
We all have the power to try,
maybe then our minds won't die.
Try something riveting and new,
Something you are proud to call you.
Stop trying to love thee,
A fool, a coward you would be.
Love yourself above all,
But care for others and proudly stand tall.
Yes, I said love and not hate,
break past the open gate.
Express yourself for what you want,
Easing of tensions, by detente.
Stop all the excuses and lying,
The unreal attitude you have, the fake crying.
Trapped in portieres,
All the feelings of distrust, how unfair!
So let’s close the portieres of guilt,
And cover up with a nice, warm quilt.
A good night’s rest will do the trick,
For a poor one, who's psychologically sick.
It will help alleviate the pain,
To feel some comfort, once again.
Stop hurting yourself and feeling down,
That ashamed, guilty, timid frown.
You will learn to love,
And give those unjust feelings a great shove.
Go have fun and smile wide,
Because no matter what, when, where, why...
Everybody is on your side.
Apr 9, 2013
Apr 9, 2013 at 8:50 PM UTC
Just stop trying to be someone who you’re not,
Because evidently, it hurts a lot.
Stop the staring and wishing to be someone that’s not you,
All the unwanted thoughts passing through.
A head filled with endless wants and needs,
Desire for illusions; my helpless heart bleeds.
Stop all the complaining and fuss,
With all the fights, who’s to trust?
You are not inferior to any of thee,
But through those faded pupils, can you see?
Do you notice the world around you?
Or are you too oblivious, so lost, so blue?
Just get over your interrogating feelings of doubt,
Strive beyond your abilities; go all out.
Know what to expect from your actions,
Superior or inferior; the omnipotent fraction.
Simply love yourself and only you,
Forget the haters with nothing better to do.
Handle life’s challenges in a way; a unified manner,
Instead of debating who is tanner.
Live for the moment and appreciate all the love,
You have always received near and above.
Stop fooling with your mind,
Sobbing away till clearly blind.
Let yourself know we all think differently through everything,
That without you it’d be lifeless; all the personality you bring.
We all have the power to try,
Maybe then our minds won’t die.
Try something riveting and new,
Something you are proud to call you.
Stop trying to love thee,
A fool, a coward you would be.
Love yourself above all,
But care for others, and proudly stand tall.
Yes, I said love and not hate,
Break past the open gate.
Express yourself for what you want,
Easing of tensions by détente.
Stop all the excuses and lying,
The unreal attitude you have; the fake crying.
Trapped in portieres,
All the feelings of distrust, how unfair!
So let’s close the portieres of guilt,
And cover up with a nice, warm quilt.
A good night’s rest will do the trick,
For a poor one who’s psychologically sick.
It will help alleviate the pain,
To feel some comfort once again.
Stop hurting yourself and feeling down,
That ashamed, guilty timid frown.
You will learn to love,
And give those unjust feelings a great shove.
So go have fun and smile wide,
Because no matter what, when, where, or why…
Everybody is on your side.
May 11, 2014
May 11, 2014 at 3:21 PM UTC
Seven Scythed Fathers split this Growing Bond
Yet befriended by Common Dives respect
For Growth the Appled Fortunates abscond
And reap your Good Harvest in circumspect
Such Loyalty though Honest in its brew
Hoping for his time may notice and drink
I in my Honour base mixtures in stew
Never up-polled to what he may re-think
Bless, specially, the Welsh in Cat's Charm
And slap my Donkey to walk-up and run
I found the Barter; Whose tweet's harness farm
Smiles of the Tanner and revive his fun.
Although, it would be nice to just confess
And sharpen your Profile to know at best.
Mar 20, 2013
Mar 20, 2013 at 2:15 AM UTC
yesterday me and Tanner got so blazed
At first I was like 'I don't fell anything man"
But then it hit me and I saw stuff
There was a unicorn
And also there was a pegasus
Aug 27, 2014
Aug 27, 2014 at 9:07 PM UTC
My first kiss tasted of soy sauce.
Not literally tasted! We didn’t go that far,
but the bitter saltiness of it
only enhanced the sweetness of the moment.
He had never had Chinese food,
And I had never been kissed.
That’s right! At the age of 17
My lips had never met another boy’s
And for the first time, in my car
Outside the band room, I swear I could
have heard music floating in the air
in the small space between my face
and his as he leaned In for a second peck.
We dated for a while, but eventually
We broke up because we were too similar, I guess.
I liked men, and, uh, so did he…
I began to think I missed my chance I that kiss
And the validity of it was brought into question.
Maybe I had missed my chance
Way back on the playground
Because I never stole kisses behind the slide
Or teased the boys with my third grade girlish charm
Like all my other friends.
Maybe, deep down, I knew I could only settle
On true love.
Not just a fling that was only a thing
For a week of “pure bliss”
Because when I find love, I want Full House perfection.
I want a Tanner family connection.
Something that when I go grocery shopping
I can proudly say, “Those kids climbing the walls
And that man knocking on all the watermelons.
Yeah, I’m with them.”
And people will have no other choice
But to understand the perfection I am in.
I hold onto the hope that someday
The strings connecting all the living things
Will tie me together with someone I can love
And who will love me
And one day I will find a man who
Doesn’t have the dreaded cootie disease.
Because for every Adam,
there must be an Eve or where else would we be?
Someday and one day can seem so far way
If you get anxious,
But I will let things fall in place
For me to fall in love.
I just have to remember
Not to be afraid to taste the soy sauce.
May 31, 2013
May 31, 2013 at 10:45 PM UTC
My #2
Consistently
Even two years ago before I ever started flirting and you wouldn't take a ******* hint
I will forever be grateful to you for staying up with me on a call until I passed out to make sure I wouldn't hurt myself in the middle of the night
And always dropping other things to play **** games with me because they made me happy
And listening to me rant about animal (especially bug) mating habits
And how everything ******
And gaming
And halo reach
I swear to god the stars haven't looked the same
I enjoy everything so much more (given I do have more freedom now that I moved in with mom)
I named at least four different animals after you but this last one, ale eggs, lost his family and I'm just hoping you don't succumb to the same fate
I know you got jealous about tanner and angry about Eric since he threatened me with the thing I'm most afraid of after needles and you know it and he knows it
If you took a ******* hint both of us would have been happier sooner
And now thanks to my selfish ***** needs it might all fall apart just when I'm close enough to meet you and it's killing me
I have been waiting years to hug you it would **** me if you decided you didn't want me now
I'll never love anyone so much I remember so much about them
I'm sorry I was a selfish ***** ****** please forgive
Mar 6, 2016
Mar 6, 2016 at 8:44 AM UTC
Day unto Day, I track my prey
Night unto Night, I stalk my victim
My hunt is not one for satisfaction
It is not pleasure or fun
It is out of necessity.
I hunt because I must,
I live in the wilds because I must,
I bring home my finds because I must.
My hunt is what keeps my family fed,
My hunt is what keeps the tanner busy,
My hunt is what keeps the leather-worker stocked,
My hunt is what keeps the saddles fresh,
My hunt is what keeps the people warm,
My hunt is what keeps the trade flowing.
My tools are crafted by my friends;
Not necessarily friends by choice but by necessity.
Fellow townsfolk keep me content because they must,
Not because I am friendly to them.
Fellow townsfolk keep my family safe because they must,
Not because they are joyed by their presence.
If not for my skills,
I would be as distanced as the wild animals,
As shunned as the insanities of men,
As estranged as the drunks,
As feared and hated as the beasts that stalk in the night.
I am not like the others.
I may be an outsider here,
But without me, they would all be outsiders to the world beyond.
How can one man judge another when the other keeps the man alive?
Mar 19, 2013
Mar 19, 2013 at 11:16 PM UTC
“do you love yourself?”
they say as you
pluck hair from your face
cover your pores with who knows what
apply blush when you are already shimmering
dye your hair the opposite of what it should be
skip dinner every week day
then throw up what you do eat
sit under the hot water until your skin aches
glue lashes to your eyelids
heat your hair until you can see right through your self esteem
**** in the gut you never had
rub self-tanner into your skin in hopes of evening not only your tan lines but your life
pierce your cartilage with metal bars
pierce your life with distractions
pierce your skin with blades you took from your little sisters pencil sharpener
pierce a hole in the things that really matter
when you let the poison run free in your blood
eating you away until you are dying from the inside out
but you keep your wounds well hidden
“yes, I love myself.”
Dec 14, 2014
Dec 14, 2014 at 11:46 PM UTC
when my fingers brush your skin
my heart explodes
stars roaming my soul
my cracked happiness fused together
with your golden melodies
breathe life and hope into me
give me your hands
so that I may feel my world changing colors
my sweet, dearest, Tanner
never leave me
May 2, 2015
May 2, 2015 at 12:51 PM UTC