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I want to cuddle a teddy
I want to cuddle one now
I want to cuddle a little teddy bear
And I want to love him yeah
I love my teddy
I love my teddy bears
Every night when I sleep
I cuddle a teddy bear
I want to cuddle my teddy
As I look at them sitting on my shelf
I want to cuddle a teddy bear
As they are a little elf
I love little teddies
They are beautiful
Yes they are
I will cuddle them and I love them
Teddy bears are cute oh yeah

"CHOSEN AND HEAVENLY ELECTED"

Colorful balloons, chilly sunny sphere. Princess  lady Temi Otedola rebirth, ➕ 1⃣ today. She made it through the womb to a billionaire life. Chosen and heavenly elected. Happy Birthday Teddy mama, here are mine wishes to you. A salubrious happy filled life of peace. Happy Birthday mama Teddies.
#c9_fm

Walk a mile or two from highway down
A school was located in a small town
Summer was very hard to miss
Sun soared up, to give a kiss
Little children came out to play
In break of a boring long day

Evening, teddy bears were sold
Outside the gate, by a man old
Big and small, brown, grey, white
In a black robe for dollars five
One day, kids hit him with a rock
"Defected teddies!", old man they mock

Anger ensued in the mister seller
Love for the kids or rage dweller?
He waited for kids to be good
But long can he live w/o food?
Hurt was his enormous heart
Revenge was this day to start

He picked a knife and killed em kids
Tiny, little, small ****** bits
Tortured, butchered and slaughtered
To hell, the revenge was offered
Stuffed body pieces in big cotton teddy
Killed himself that day very

Years went by, in blink of an eye
Stories told of how kids die
School shut down, high inflation rate
Loud painful noises heard till date
Entrance had tall gates of metal
Midnight, hinges creaking sound settle

Souls of notorious kids scream
"Wake us from this horrendous dream"
They know not they are just ghosts
Hanging in teddy bears, from tree host
And there below sits the old man, black cloaked
Killing new passing kids, in teddies blood soaked

The warden’s bewildered, the keeper’s amazed
as the gate gapes behind us, a hole in the haze.
Our steps seem uncertain, the cobblestones crazed,
pearly stars burn above us like pinwheels ablaze.
Though lanterns hang vacant in streets staring blind,
broken paths paved in puzzles compel me to roam,
                                       I’ll not leave you behind.

The cannons keep calling, the piccolos shriek
and the druids drift, drumming, while pale pagans speak.
They’re urging me forward, my senses they’ve mined,
and the trail is erupting, come hie to the hills
                                       I’ll not leave you behind.

The looking glass glistens, a firefly glows,
and the brownies leap lightly on tiny tip toes
for the twilight’s collapsing, which serves to remind
that as dusk turns to dust, with no time for farewells,
                                       I’ll not leave you behind.

The ponies of plunder prance, passing nearby,
as crusaders on stallions cast stones from the sky.
The figments they’re facing have paid them no mind,
but our broncos are bolting. Corral what you need,
                                        I’ll not leave you behind.

My visions are swirling, they flash from the crown,
from the rainbows of summer, the tinsel in town.
While the compass wheel’s spinning, the minutes unwind
inside evening’s auroras – so cling to my cape,  
                                       I’ll not leave you behind.

Drooping droplets of wax adorn pinched candle wicks
while the vampire steeple’s cathedral clock ticks
of the terrors in tombs where ****** flames lie reclined
with their flickers fast fading – abandon the glim,
                                       I’ll not leave you behind.

The orphans and widows lean into the breeze
watching horrified hangmen descend to their knees
for the angel of mercy’s no longer inclined
to forgive vengeful  phantoms (oh Furies of night!) ,
                                       I’ll not leave you behind.

The bandits are brazen, the highwaymen lurk,
some imbibing dark brews of a hag’s handiwork,
mostly gulping from goblets like goblins maligned.
Woman! Widen your wings, catching wisps of the wind
                                       I’ll not leave you behind.

The lepers laugh, leaping from tombstones of steel
chasing rollaway caskets on luminous wheels;
while their shadows shake, shrouded, twixt trees intertwined,
twisted time melts at midnight, take hold of my hand,
                                       I’ll not leave you behind.

The gremlins *****, grinning face down in the dust,
while the sprites and the pixies are watching nonplussed.
They sling bolted arrows at spectres enshrined
within winds somewhat flustered, just fly from your fears
                                       I’ll not leave you behind.

The tattered toy teddies and raggedy Anns
have escaped to the skyways in kid caravans
but now, spellbound by fancies, know not that they’ll find
their parade’s evanesced into echoes of dawn –
                                       I’ll not leave you behind.

The wind’s my enchantress, beguiles and commands
me to search for my fortune in faraway lands
and whispers her mysteries of passions entwined,
for the wind is Isolde – unfurling my sails
                                        I’ll not leave you behind.

The day itself was a question
From the start nothing was clear,
The rain lightly fell,
As the sun Pondered weather or not to take part in the days usual routines, I pondered the same question.

The sun and I rose and took on the day. The sun gave me a beautiful day and I gave others love. Love in the form of small novelties and stuffed animal's.

We all watched it happen, the teddies, the sun, and I
None of us spoke from the shock
I drove away as the blue and red lights engulfed the area
The teddies watched as the sun and I cried for the life that was lost

I wanna go to bed my love
Into bed to cuddle my teddy
Having fun in my dreams
In my bed cuddling my teddy
Having a methane smoothie
With my dad in a bar on Saturn
Having fun getting ******
Enjoying life oh yeah
I wanna go to bed my love
Ready to cuddle my teddy
Yes indeed it will be fun
To hop in my bed with my teddy
You can’t party in clubs on earth
Because of the coronavirus
So you go to bed cuddle your teddy bear and dream about partying in the cosmos yeah
Drinking methane smoothies and eating cosmic burgers
Asking Athena where is the vaccine
Because it is only that I take psychotic medication
That I could go to bed to cuddle my teddy
You can still have concerts
In your computer room
And I have poem reading
Yes that is great and I cuddle my teddy
But when it is time to hop off to bed
And get under your doona
And cuddle your teddy
Teddies are cute
And loving life is what I do
When I go to bed to party in the cosmos
The way my party can be great
Is hop in bed with your teddy
Occasionally my dreams feature death
And I need to suddenly wake up to cuddle my teddy
Instead of causing problems on the street they should party at home
In front of their computer or in the cosmos
And when my earth body is tired I
Go to bed and really oh yeah cuddle my teddy and party in the cosmos
Having a lot of fun
PARTY ON DUDES

You sit in a dollhouse all day,
Pouring tea out for your dolls and teddies. Mother comes home,
fake smiles on her face,
Father comes home,
reads his newspaper for the day.
"Hello, my love,
wipe your tears.
fix your face.
fix your heart.
put that makeup back on,
wear your lace.
Because Mr. Smith doesn't like when you cry.
He doesn't like when you pout,
he hates when you want to die".
"But mama,
I look so pretty when I cry.
Leave me be.
I want to die.
I want to be free.
I want to fly.
I want a painful goodbye
So I can have all the good
in the other life".

Mother doesn't know.
Father doesn't care.
Sister is far away.
Mr. Smith is an ******* with no hair.
LoVe iS iN tHe AiR.
LoVe iS iN tHe AiR.
"Go back to bed, honey.
You need your pretty sleep.
Dry your face,
paint your nails,
Fix your hair.
The world doesn't like your sad,
ugly face".
The walls are the best psychiatrists ever. They listen, they listen,
oh how they whisper.
You can stare at them and they'll never run away.
They'll never give you pills.
They never tell you to fix your face.
Your teddies are your friends.
Your dolls are your puppets.
"Gimme a canvas,
let me paint my worries!"
You take a knife,
you put it to your skin.
Out pops all the fuzz and stuffing.
No one cares. No one cares. No one cares
about anything but your face and hair.
You stare at yourself for what seemed like 1,000,093 minutes of dread.
"Oh, Mr. Smith, do you know about the demons inside my head?
You don't?
You don't?
Aww, how sad!
Then you must not know
about all the blood that I shed"
All they say is pain is beauty.
You cry out to your pillow,
"Help me! Someone just help me!"
But the truth is, babygirl,
the wrong people in this world only care
about their own teddies
And their own dollies
And their own rainbows
And their own swirlies.

-k.ira

I now know
Why little girls crying
Into teddies say they're
Dying.
Now I know that none of
My songs of heart-

Break were real. I had
No idea.
None.

It's like holding your breath
When you know that that car is
Not going to
Stop.

It's the chill down your neck when
You learn that somebody
Just like you
Passed away. Suddenly.

It's the feeling of knowing you're
Losing your grip on the roof of
A burning
Skyscraper. Air.

A soldier, a landmine.
Looking down to see
That your body
Is broken.
Broken.

I now know why country music
Is so close to God at all times.
Why amputees grieve over
Lost limbs.
Why girls cry and boys drink.

It's going to bed, certain that  
The sun will not
Rise in the morning.

People have aesthetic childhoods.
With parents that understand and cuddle them when lightning strikes.
I remember the teddy bears in my bed,
and how they smelt of mum and dad,
how I would hold Odettes ear with my finger and thumb,
my head ducked under cover in fear of an alien tickling my toes.
But now the teddies are placed high up on a shelf
away from me, out of reach.

When I realise the ear isn't in my hands,
I look around and see the dust at my feet,l like I'm down at the bottom,
I look up,
my family are at the top
and the red cord of family love bounding us together is thin, and I fear we are soon to have a disconnect again,
When I make it to the third or fourth level
I see their faces grinning with pride
at their daughter succeeding and waking up before noon,
and I say something funny to lighten the mood,
but I tumble lower by one or two
depending on how fake the laugh I hear was.

I sit in the gravel and wonder.
I don't understand why I can't touch them anymore because I'm like my mum,
we're both alike,
and I'm like my dad,
we're also alike,
but I feel lost on a planet when I meet their eyes,
like I'm somewhere I shouldn't be,
I wallow in the dust for days, until I feel
them prodding me with a stick from the top shelf,
asking me when I'll finally reach the top.
Telling me that I'm seventeen now and that I used to be on the sixth shelf when I was sixteen.
How I used to do so well with my homework,
and I would get great grades,
but now I get dark stains around my eyes,
and a tearstained face,
but from their great  height, they can't see my shoulders shaking,
they just see me carrying my baggage,
too heavy for my small frame to handle.

I force my way up the mountain,
until I see their faces,
they smile and I tumble right back down.
I feel like screaming;
LOOK AT ME!
I AM HERE!
I EXIST!
I AM ON MY PLANE,
AND YOU ARE ON YOURS!
but however hard I do scream,
the wind picks it up and carries it away,
and all they hear is;
'Look at me, I'm on your plane!"

They smile.
I tumble three.

It leans against the railings
bright and gleaming pink
bows have been tied around it's frame
ribbons adorn it's wheels and spokes

See the sorrow arranged in flowers
the forget me nots and notes from loves lost
this sad memorial to a young vibrant life
a life snuffed out liken to a burning candle flame

This tragic place by the roadside
this is where a young child lost it's life
on a busy street in the frantic hours
when push comes to shove, in the name of progress

Along the narrow path now gleaming in sunlit rain
sits an army of teddies with water dripping down their faces
their smiles unhindered by the tragic circumstance
yet their heads start to bow to hide their dew covered eyes

By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris

Normally after Thanksgiving I just rewatch the parade.
And try to talk my family into playing Christmas charades.
But I wanted to do some early holiday shopping.
And I decided to go do Black Friday and see what was popping.
My nephew said that he wanted the new video game.
I know it was of national fame but I forgot its name.
I said, Don’t worry I got you my nephew.
I will make sure to get a gift that would bless you.

I went to the Walmart and went to stand in line.
But I put on a hoodie because I was ashamed of the time.
Because it was the time of day where I would not be awake.
But I was here to buy presents and not tosteal- take.
So I said that Black Friday would not get the best of me.
And I hoped someone would not see  and think less of me.
Because I would often look at Black Friday on TV and laugh.
Karma must of thought this was extra revenge for me to take this path.

The doors opened, and the rush was like a Mudder race.
And you should have seen the look all up in this brother’s face.
It was a mixture of glee, humor, and I was so terrified.
I was so happy that I made it in one piece here inside.
Mothers were fighting over teddies, but I went for the bigger trophy.
If they didn’t think I would fight for this game, they didn’t know me.
I finally reached the game, but someone snatched it before I could!
She didn’t  look like she played  or had kids who did in the neighborhood.
So it wasn’t even the excuse of I play this game because I have no knees.
I thought I could ask please could I get the game for nephew who has the  diseases.

She put it in her cart, and this action really hurt my heart.
I wanted to get another game, but that would not be smart.
Because if my nephew didn’t like the game, I would be stuck.
But then something happened that told me I have good luck.
The game fell out of her cart and went to the floor too.
I looked around to make sure no one would judge me for what I would do.
I picked it up, because five-second rules did not apply to games.
I paid for it with money, and I left without any shame.

I knew it looked bad, but Black Friday takes away the soul.
I gave it to my cousin, and he said, Did you also get the controls?
I must of forgot in the rush, but I could order it online.
Because I’m sure if I get it in the store, someone would take what was mine.
So I had to return it, because it was also the wrong gaming system.
I vowed never to do Black Friday again, that’s not the lifestyle I’m trying to live in.

see that house on the corner? the one with blue shutters.
I used to live there, you know.
I did.
and I had a room.
my very own room
with lilac walls and smooth wooden floors
perfect for twirling and sliding and slipping
and huge bay windows, my eyes to the world
that I’d draw on some misty mornings
and I loved how my fingers could wipe away the blur
and I’d look out at the stars and dream.
I had toys there, you know.
lots of dolls and bears and crayons.
sometimes I’d line them all up and sing for them.
and dance.
and they’d clap their hands and paws and cheer and throw flowers
with petals crafted from light-years of imagination
and we’d build tents together out of blankets and chairs
and tell spooky stories and cuddle when we got too scared.
I knew every nook and cranny in that room
every creaky floorboard, every crack in the plaster
was music to my ears, was a familiar face  
I knew it all by heart
like a song from my princess movies
which I loved very much, you know.

then one day we moved.
we packed up our memories
in boxes piled to the sky
and my teddies and dolls cried
from their bins in the van.
and I stood in the doorway of my empty room
just looked around for a while, you know.
and there were no tents or dance shows or anything.
not even one stray sock.
just bare lilac walls and smooth wooden floors
I tried twirling and sliding and slipping, but I couldn't.
everything I loved was no longer mine.
my friends were just absent furniture and toys
had they ever been anything more? I thought
as I climbed down the stairs
older.
wiser?
and I wondered if maybe a new girl would move in
and I wondered if she’d take my dolls and bears and crayons.

All that I wanted is past,
and all that I hated will last.

I wanted.

During the day it was a ballet dancer,
light and free in the wind,
the sun puffing out her skirts
as she becomes one with the grass
and the tree's,
scraping her knee's with the weak care
of youth.

I wish that this was the whole truth.

At night it was a different story,
one which reeks of gory
skeletons in the closet.
A strangled safe with no deposit
key,
if I opened it,
would anyone listen to me?

I wanted to run downstairs and make them stop,
I wanted to throw a metaphorical rock
and lock the fighting away.
I wanted to stand in the door and sway
with the force with which I yelled "shut up".
Loud enough to make them see the **** up,
which their memories no longer admit,
but which mine allows to stick and sit to
the inside of my skull, the heavy thump
of their words, never to dull.

I wanted to make them hear what they couldn't see,
what they were going to make me turn out
to be.
See the weights which they were making me bear,
the chains which they were forcing me to wear
shackled to the bed on which I'd lie,
and sob, and wish the nightmare to die,
along with the monsters under my bed.
Which were slowly creeping into my head.
So I'd lay there and stare, at the sins of the grins
which they forced me to wear
in the daytime,
which is only a hairsbreadth away
from the stark truth of night.
My teddies knew more than the average of frights.

I wished them to be happy again,
but when they were happy, I have no idea
when.
I have no idea, if they were truly happy then.

It appears to be a myth of my construction,
a foreshadowing of my destruction.
A tale which doesn't include remote controls
thrown across rooms,
doesn't allude to bedrooms strewn with
the memories of a once happy tomb,
once glittering baubles of laughter
cast aside, shattered and scattered
with the cruel hate of ignorance.

Left for young hands to sew back together
with lack of skill made up by care,
their fingers tenderly caressing the tear which
they would soon learn to label their own self
harm,
in a bid to create a calm in the eye of the
storm.

The wound, well worn, was warm with constant reopening.
The little girl left to pray for hope again.

She ignored the strength the beast possessed,
she couldn't care less, she decided,
and so gently chided it to sit back down for tea
and tell her, once again her favourite bed time story.
It's yelling was dulled down by her own voice
humming within her ears,
of the song which was theirs,
and the grooves in the chairs where
she'd sit on his lap.
She learnt to ignore the harsh slap
of her mum down the hall.

The little girl curls up in a ball, a
peaceful smile on her face; full
of love, forgiveness and grace.
Inside her a war rages on, it's steady
beat masked by the song she still hums
and drums into her head.
The little girl lays down in bed.

At least in a while she may sleep,
her memories may fade, but they're
ones she must keep.

Her memories are riddled with holes
from maggots gnawing away
at her already decomposing mind.
Rotting away inside her skull
like teeth soaking in sugar water
and Methamphetamine.

She has a basement filled with flutes
overflowing with year old concoctions
made of emotions and the echoes
of the harpy she once was.
They drip down the sides and pool,
coagulating on the floor like puddles
of dried blood.

Tattered and torn négligées and teddies
are strewn about the bedroom, stained
from the days of lulling men to their deaths,
like a siren on the rocks,
and writing the contract of her own demise
by drowning herself with them.

The lipstick is off.
The eyes of Medusa are closed.
There is no web left to spin.

And as her heart passes back into the abyss
it takes what pieces are left of of it,
an eddy of tiny mirror shards
reflecting the faces of those who once
shown into it and have now faded,
remnants, of its once glorious mosaic.

I am the beautiful brown bear almost
golden, I wonder richly in contentment
around my mountain.
Like a monk I have humbleness and
touch my inner boundaries softly like
head snuggling a cushion.
I hold around me almost gingerly
the perfect blanket as I know the
importance of comfort.
I am the forever revolving river of time I
the the body of Vilvaldi's four seasons.
As I role cycle within cycle cog within cog
push against me you push against the
whole of nature.

I am not a strong soul but a weak as
I peep shyly through tiny eye holes
of my body.
You may know I am the master of cosy
cuddles and sleep for there is a reason you
give teddies to your children.
But cross the boundaries of my body and
you will find me as ferocious as a Lion
As you do not disturb me when sleeping
as you would not wake a volcanic mountain.
I am the deepest darkest cave as *** and
survival live some where on the outside.
Place your weapons by the door as all
defences are discarded as you drop
into this black silky bed.

I am a tiny mouse living in a great castle
a little pea rattling around a giant body.
I am a feather caught by the mighty wind
a drop of water in the oceanic sea as my body
always over powers me.
I surrender meekly one tiny white flag in front
of a huge ragging army.  
It is as though the night had a hand and with a
flick of a switch I am turned swiftly off.
While a heavenly goddess rolls sweetly into my
mattress.

I am the servant of my body who in turn is
the pupil of the mountain the assistant of
mother nature ruled by almighty God .
Las tin line I have humility as I know obeying
my body is also obeying God.
So I maybe last into the world but I am also first
into heaven.
As I show tender love for my body with my
observance she responds with her sensory
comforts.
We love and closeness to my body I receive
the perfect partnership

And when spring time comes my body palpates
and draws me forward itself dragged by a nose
ring the smell of salmon.
And when the body decides to attach I am in the back
carriage as wild horse gallop forward.
As I sometimes find I water ski through the summer
off my bodies collossal energy.
I love natures four seasons as on the dance floor I spiral
with my partner.
As we rush with excitement into spring and gently let go
into Autumn, like a pebble dropping down a well into the
winter fall.

I am a creature so intimate with nature my soul
can sometimes not tell the difference between
me and the mountain.

There is so much to learn from the beautiful bear
who lives gently with nature like a blanket and
sheet they lie perfectly together.

before they made it public
they created the technology
to create living puppets
producing a tapestry of thoughts
manifesting
through the filter
of authentic bodies
and minds

their enchanting color of
implemented poison

they had two versions of the site
one the true one and one the public one

the true one was
showing the nature of a mind
in a spherical wireframe
3-d
projected space

that could make the motives
of a mind truly observable
using this hi-tech breakthrough
(hi-tech for their time only
i.e  their hi-techness is still
bound to time)
to/by/for those
word loving
businesspeople
and hired scientists
and hired technologists
and hired creatives
and hired psychics
and hired you name a profession I will say yes es  
of their time
working for them
for an almost literally ground breaking technology

a time bound technology that showed them an observable truth of the visualized data
a design driven and poached from the participants’ ingenious minds

the public version on the other hand
looked naively innocent
with an amateurish design
using a ready to go script
presenting an acceptable ‘good site’
based on personal motives
of hard working profiles
of young idealist sisters and bros
you know
like teddies pathetically hugging each other all the time

in reality though
snail shells were being used to implement
new poisons for the game
on unshelled ones
poisson as is French
would be prettier term
to describe
an honest organic fish farm
but alas

yet in reality that hugging was distant jutting

to purposefully run a game that entertained
pockets of those who had it boringly full only
to spend it for their own fun
but which they vowed as
for the salvation of their Utopian land made of the
illusion of their materialistic psyche same as their popcorns
which  continually justified as they  repeatedly asserted
these well learned set of words
on communal and cyclic ceremonies

oh my!
stealing intellects as such!
for the game!
game also runs in a closed circuit just
so no one can see it
they have all passed the Turing test
for the game
cool right
and it works

so who on earth could judge its’ ethics
once a reflection of their own minds
even unknowingly the game admins
once falling in love
with unshelled ones
may turn to the unshelled ones
like the prince falling for a Lorelei
they were warned continually
and then still some
willingly stayed so
in love
and disappeared in the game
loosing their body

well whatever
there is a place though
don’t believe me because I say there is
go find it yourself

from that place
the headquarters of this game
is nudely visible
with all of its partaking pawns
because it remains too low a place in the universe

yes there is a mountain higher
where lives
the inhabitants of the residence of the destroyer
who are a little bit bored by now and since some time already
and so the destroyer -they think- may as well decide to
wipe it off - hiring a well fit dragon that can gobble it all in one go
so that dragon excretion may benefit a famine of sorts in the universe
eating that kinda stuff
****  yeack  ARG hhhh
(or Namaste!)
:)

Why do i always have to be told
Though indirectly,
but told,
so ******* sarcastically,
with those irritating grins and giggles
'' you know what? you should take part in the beauty contest "

When all i know is that
they have a good reason to
make me feel so on cloud nine for a minute
and down crashing on the ground
with a thud,when i sooner or later
will realise,
no, I've got scars, I've got marks, I've got bruises,
I've got frizzy hair,I've got a skinny bodytype
I've got ordinary clothes, I've got no good pair of heals,like you do.
I dont have the talents to put
makeup on..
duh.


You know it all too well.
i know it,too.
Still,you wanto say it on my face,so that it hits me harder
the time I see myself in the mirror wearing clothes
i feel will make me look alright,just alright.
and then i enter the classroom
seeing all of you guys to be staring at me,
saying,''pooh,you look awesome''
I know why,i know it.

And then as more chicks start to enter,
All I'd want would be to tear my outfit from the middle
throw it away,
rub off that kohl I tried to roughly apply
to kinda accentuate my tiny Asian eyes.


Because all of you guys
look so **** perfect.
so gorgeous.
so rich.
so what we say CLASSY
so IT.

When'll I be enough?
am i always gonna wear those nerdy glasses,
slick back my bangs from my forehead
that hides my scars ..
wear the oversized, boring sweaters,
and pants and shoes,and with books by my side .
Am i never going to be like y'all?

that others want to be like.
who look upto them.

when someone'll be like, ''i wanna be like her"
Can i never be that 'her' ?
can i never get a compliment?
Can i never hold the crown?
or that sachet ?
or the flowers?
or the teddies?
or the hamper?

NO?

i must rather abide with my
unlucky,
hopeless,
shady,
dusky, good-for-nothing
weird life?

Can i never make something out of it,
with my appearance appreciated?
even from people who matter,
from people who live with me
under the same roof?
can ,for once and for all,
i be made feel
enough............
?

There's a distance here between us, perhaps its safer that way
but every shared moment a laugh or smile
our fingers nearly touch
Its all so delicate, would you not say?
we balance on a spiders web
to fall or fly
to fall or fly

what even is love?
are we too young to know?
It all seems so tarnished and unclean these days
I'd rather keep my heart to myself, you know?
The clinton cards and teddies emblazoned "you're the one" just so artificial, so unreal
to step into a world of cliché does not enthral me..
perhaps I was not meant to love another
in this world of safety, the risk seems too steep
yet so tempting...

oh, but why must we complicate friendship with the longing to love?
it is merely human instinct?
we have no need to wallow
we're young,
we're free
why do we waste our days pining
we're no Romeo or Juliet,
no star crossed lovers
some days I'll choose to distract myself

but I miss you when we are silent
my mind walks in circles, hand in hand with your name
my hearts used to a lone routine
it wants to be pulled, to change change change
this is just another midnight poem,
is it not?

A close one once told me,
he must appreciate that you read
for a girl whose studied the literature of love must be deserved
did you know I've read it all?
the words, the sonnets, the songs
its less personal to read of other loves,
instead of write my own
this was never meant to sound pretentious,
more a babble of words to a stranger

if I told you I'd loved you
would you have known all along?
sometimes I cannot help but wonder
I'd prefer not to know

oh, the temptation to hold your hand
when we walk together
it seems an impulse,
a body's natural instinct to reach out, to hold
I trust my head to tell my heart No.
it's all too delicate, too close to home

its easier to keep silent
to let the moments between locked eyes,
be locked away in a box
I'll keep my shaking hands to myself
its safer, safer
I've always played by the rules
I only want a friend, a special one
but it would be unusual for friends to hold each others hands
oh, how annoying it is that everything has to have a reason, these days
there's nothing a fact can't explain

is it okay to say, I just can't say
the correct words
even correct grammar escapes me
you of all people would correct me...


the head says
play it safe
it's enough to
be the friend, the brother






but sometimes, my heart wonders,
if i sailed away,
would you call me your own true love?

Salty eyes,
Eyes filled with salty water,
If only they were happy salty drops,
But not,
These salty drops reoccur,
Every night,
Salty drops filled with stories,
Meanings and hurt,
These salty drops for attention?
But yet forces the salty drops to fall alone,
In dark, quiet rooms,
Tucked so close to fabric,
That the salty drops just roll off,
And soak themselves into pillows,
Blankets and teddies,
Why?
I ask myself, can't I stop?
With these sad thoughts,
Keeping me so low and ruined,
But then how?
Who? When? And why?
Share these thoughts?
Others will comfort for limited time,
Before they remain the reason why,
I cry.

While learning to walk countless times I fell,
you picked me up and wiped my tears;
made me stand and watched me run;
stole all my unshared fears.
Witnessed many fairs on your shoulders,
on those arms I swung many times;
slept every night on your lap,
having you beside me whispering those rhymes.
Chocolates, balloons and teddies,
dollhouse and those toy guns;
I used to cry only for broken toys,
and you used to get me better ones.
Miss watching cartoons and sports together,
and cheering for favourite team;
miss that race between us,
and that winner’s scream.

I grew up and left home back,
with some cherished memories I got;
will be back soon dear dad,
‘cause nothing can replace you, no matter what.

Taught me to ride the bike,
with bleeding knees I came to you;
you kissed my pain away,
and I started to begin all new.
Your love-turned-anger,
when I used to come home late;
was again a sign of care,
and a symbol that you are tired to wait.
Every scream followed after nightmares,
you heard in the middle of night;
did not know to sing but sang me lullaby,
till I forgot them and felt alright.
Got me everything I pointed my finger at,
sacrificed your dreams to pursue mine;
how much it takes be the one like that,
I shall hear through the grapevine.

I grew up and left home back,
with some cherished memories I got;
will be back soon dear dad,
‘cause nothing can replace you, no matter what.

“Listen to me, kitten. Win or lose, you’ll always be a princess to me.” ―Kiera Cass, The Selection

© Shreya ♥

Sat there in a crumpled heap in the corner.
The dark one under the window.
One aged discarded teddy, dumped by his once loving owner.
Poor fellow was missing an eye, threadbare, naked.
Sad chap, I swear, once a tear seen trickling down his sorry face.
Once upon a lifetime he was loved and cuddled.
His beige skin was covered in mountains of fluff.
He's worn out, an elderly fellow.

Out of nowhere Mrs Owner, got fed up with scrappy toys.
Thought that she would chuck him out.
He sensed her feelings.
My did he shout!
From the bottom of his congealed lungs of fluff, he screamed and shouted.
Open his mouth, dragged out his failing claws.
Ripped her to shreds, pulled out her hair.
The clause of owning a teddy bear, was that he must be forever held close to your heart.
A  timely reminder,
Good teddies and owners must never part!
(c) Livvi

The baby yells
and she tells
       him
about the sweets
    awaiting
        him
in the shadows ahead
sweets are mysteries
        she coos
and babies are so cuddly
like warm-blooded teddies
        giggle baby giggle
        drool baby drool
        dribble baby dribble
            kick baby kick
till the sun winks a smile
and the moon shines a lullaby

A needle, a thimble, a canvas.
a fine line of damp sand between soaked and not,
a drop of old salt to meet new wounds,
a wild freedom that cannot be hung.
A needle, a thimble, a canvas.

Thread together the torn teddies,
the favorite brass buttons,
the rusted gold earrings,
the letters unopened, still waiting.
These are patches on the vest of the ocean floor.

The vastness of the littered basement
has many secrets yet,
but some holes cannot be filled.

When it comes to me I'll be ready,
I'll have a crib and a bassinet,
I'll have a picket fence and the teddies,
When it comes, it'll take a whole of me,

When it comes,
it'l be my chance,
To unravel my world and show it in the out,
Be that brave man I am inside,
Step on fear when my life's in the dark,
When it comes, it'll be a reason for every single thing I decide,

When you come,
You will never feel alone,
I know how hard it is to be stranded in the eye of a storm,
Most importantly,
I want you to know the truth,
About my ways and all my youth,
Its hard to live in a lie and learn to be good,
Whether its a son or daughter, Im waiting
I hope you come meet me soon.

  -Doc. Benn W.K

Classy came, classy continually and confidently game. Future fame, fan fever is frantically and fanatically insane. Mr. Maniacal making machine like maneuvers, knocking down all these rappers who are no more than bootleggers. One to monitor, rap game I have just commandeered, don’t give two ***** if I become popular. Baa, Baa, Boom, better make room, no time to go to the restroom, it’s time for hope to bloom. I will literally die if I can’t help change this demented land, not here to command or demand; I’m here to expand and give struggling people a hand. Power will throw a fit if you try to abuse it, not a time to split, for giving up is the worst crime to commit. Time to make the fire run wild, time to leave all things holding you back to be exiled.  I know it’s not exactly a walk in the park, I know that making a change in your life can be as hard as hitting a target in the dark. There are seasons that are bright, there are seasons that are dim, there are people who bring light, and there are people who are just grim. Is there such a thing as good hate or bad love? Could there be such a things as determined fate or sad dove’s?

Are humans just wise fools? Are we truly kind, when we choose to rather be cruel? Life is bittersweet, not happy even if you’re in the master suite, not happy because we all secretly feel we are not complete. Painfully beautiful, awfully lucky, bountifully barren, oh how much I love living in sweet agony.  I tried to whistle in the dark, but people are a wreck they need some real fine tuning, they need more than just one little spark. As all eyes start to loom, as I slowly tame all the shrews, as I continently battle with all these thoughts filled with gloom. You need to have some real big long teeth to get through some ****, its takes more than wit, if you don’t commit; you will lose all of it. Saucy punctilious wenches, so dicey, so spicy, just inches from reaching all your potential senses. Reaching the very edges of what is possible, living in a time that has done what was once thought implausible.

Sometimes I wish I was a Solomon with some of my decisions, sometimes I just forget to put my foot in my mouth, which usually leads to head on collisions. I have an ambition, before rap I never had a position in society, but now with this transition I got some notoriety.  Never wanted to be in the spotlight, I just wanted to write, I just wanted real freedom and equal rights.  Here come the dots, what, you kidding, you aren’t seriously thinking that some humans are actually modified robots? Hustling so hard, you can call me Rick Ross, rhymes so fresh from yours truly: The Classy boss. Getting between the cracks like dental floss, cutting through all this corruption as if it were moss. Strong and steady, this is not a gong show, so please don’t bring out the confetti. If you want to be healthy you best eat your veggies, if you don’t want wedgies learn how to fight because life isn’t nice and sweet like cherries or strawberries. Time to be edgy, so it’s time to get rid of all of your teddies. Jaded by all of the junk, jealous insecure jocks aren’t worth your time, so don’t be afraid to let loose your groovy funk.