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"ultimately" poems
Anna, the young lions won't want you forever. Eventually you are going to get tired of keeping it tight, of batting your eyes, of applying the gloss just right. Anna, what will you do when the invitation beds come to an end? Eventually the lions will settle, while you gather cobweb and callus, while you smoke cancer and wallow in cellulite. Anna, find a boy who makes you feel like the sun. Ultimately, he's the only one who can save your soul from all the crimes you've done.
0
Aug 29, 2010
Aug 29, 2010 at 10:14 PM UTC
when the gentlemen stop calling
Municipal Gum was written by Oodjeroo Noonecaal. Municipal Gum is about the changes in society and the tendency of people to want to control everything. Oodjeroo uses various techniques to convey this idea. At the beginning of the poem Oodjeroo is addressing the tree. This immediately creates empathy for both the tree and her people. By the last line she has emphasised this with the pronoun “us” to show that they suffer a similar fate. This poem expresses how life in Australia has changes especially for Aboriginal people. In the first half of the poem Oodjeroo is talking about how life was for her and others. It explores the changes in society and the displacement of the Aboriginal people from their land. “Whose head hung…Its hopelessness”, the author uses this as further re-iteration of the immorality of the situation and by the use of analogy comparing the tree to her people to further emphasise the shame and lack control of that the Europeans have inflicted upon her and the environment. Oodjeroo uses extended metaphor technique in the very first line of the poem ‘Hard bitumen around your feet’. This means that the gumtree has been placed in the city scape where it is suppressed and not allowed to spread out and be unique in its own way. This is clear and immanently direct link to the pain and suffering endured by the Aborigines post European settlement. Oodjeroo uses vivid language to present these ideas. For example the use of the word castrated is very effective. The connotation of the word is very demeaning. With castration often comes a sense of a loss of pride and power. The word castration is symbolic of how Oodjeroo feels the European have treated Aboriginal people and the environment. Castration also refers to the fact that what is done is done. Nothing can undo what they did and the damaged they have caused. Other symbolism includes the title “Municipal Gum”, municipal meaning community, implies that the gumtree belongs to the community. One of the vast differences between European and Aboriginal law is that Aboriginal people did not believe in the ownership of land or of animals and plants. Municipal Gum is a reference to the Europeans assumptions that everything is theirs to own and control. The rhetorical question, “O fellow citizen, What have they done to us?” is the conclusion of the implications that have been made throughout the poem. Oodjeroo, is advocating for her people and all things wronged by the controlling behaviour of the Europeans. Rhetorical questions are used to provoke thought and to stimulate a pre-determined response. “What have they done to us?” They have “castrated, broken… strapped and buckled” and ultimately changed things to a point that they cannot be fixed. In conclusion, Municipal Gum is a poem about the constrictions and change that the European invaders forced upon the Aboriginal community and the environment she believes that the Europeans have deemed themselves ever powerful and practice their power in a manner that is immoral.
0
Sep 11, 2013
Sep 11, 2013 at 7:47 AM UTC
Municipal Gum
Municipal Gum was written by Oodjeroo Noonecaal. Municipal Gum is about the changes in society and the tendency of people to want to control everything. Oodjeroo uses various techniques to convey this idea. At the beginning of the poem Oodjeroo is addressing the tree. This immediately creates empathy for both the tree and her people. By the last line she has emphasised this with the pronoun “us” to show that they suffer a similar fate. This poem expresses how life in Australia has changes especially for Aboriginal people. In the first half of the poem Oodjeroo is talking about how life was for her and others. It explores the changes in society and the displacement of the Aboriginal people from their land. “Whose head hung…Its hopelessness”, the author uses this as further re-iteration of the immorality of the situation and by the use of analogy comparing the tree to her people to further emphasise the shame and lack control of that the Europeans have inflicted upon her and the environment. Oodjeroo uses extended metaphor technique in the very first line of the poem ‘Hard bitumen around your feet’. This means that the gumtree has been placed in the city scape where it is suppressed and not allowed to spread out and be unique in its own way. This is clear and immanently direct link to the pain and suffering endured by the Aborigines post European settlement. Oodjeroo uses vivid language to present these ideas. For example the use of the word castrated is very effective. The connotation of the word is very demeaning. With castration often comes a sense of a loss of pride and power. The word castration is symbolic of how Oodjeroo feels the European have treated Aboriginal people and the environment. Castration also refers to the fact that what is done is done. Nothing can undo what they did and the damaged they have caused. Other symbolism includes the title “Municipal Gum”, municipal meaning community, implies that the gumtree belongs to the community. One of the vast differences between European and Aboriginal law is that Aboriginal people did not believe in the ownership of land or of animals and plants. Municipal Gum is a reference to the Europeans assumptions that everything is theirs to own and control. The rhetorical question, “O fellow citizen, What have they done to us?” is the conclusion of the implications that have been made throughout the poem. Oodjeroo, is advocating for her people and all things wronged by the controlling behaviour of the Europeans. Rhetorical questions are used to provoke thought and to stimulate a pre-determined response. “What have they done to us?” They have “castrated, broken… strapped and buckled” and ultimately changed things to a point that they cannot be fixed. In conclusion, Municipal Gum is a poem about the constrictions and change that the European invaders forced upon the Aboriginal community and the environment she believes that the Europeans have deemed themselves ever powerful and practice their power in a manner that is immoral.
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9
Dear Ex-Best Friend, Remember all the times we spent together, everyday started with meeting before classes started because that was the only time we could talk until lunch, remember all the times we laughed so hard we cried? Do you remember all the times we had to hold one another in times of the need because we thought all we had was each other? Yeah.. Me too. We spent all the time in the world texting and calling each other. Things changed a little since I got a boyfriend, but I never replaced you. You always had a special place in my heart, and I think you always knew that. We drifted apart, like two boats at sea. You switched back to the school you came from, and it felt like my life had just sunk. Suddenly I was all alone in the hallways, Coming in to school was like hell, Seeing the spot we used to stand in, Occupied by another set of best friends, Or maybe two high school sweethearts- Making out like there's no one around. It was so lonely without you. You seemed happier where you were though, and at that time, that was all that mattered to me. I walked the hallways with a sad, sorrowful look. Teachers frequently asked if I was sick, or if I needed to lay down. Suddenly I was that one kid that everyone wanted to pick and beat on. (Again.) I was incredibly lonely at school, I couldn't even sit with anyone at lunch because I was so hated by so many people for reasons I didn't even know. Come upon my junior year I got a month and a half into the school year before I switched to the school that you went to. I was reunited with my best friend, Life seemed so good. I was with my boyfriend, and my bestfriend. It felt like nothing could stop me from gaining happiness. You began going through boyfriends, They would come, and they would go. I was put second to all of them. There were days I was so depressed I didn't function correctly, and all we would talk about is what you and your boyfriend did the previous night. I was so happy that you were happy, but I think I forgot the definition of "Happiness." Everyday was full of being ignored and having guys' push past me so they could hug you while I sat in the sideline just waiting there, tears filling in my eyes because I realized that I wasn't significant to my best friend any more. I couldn't help but wonder what I did wrong. I got tired of feeling this way, I grew up, and realized that highschool isn't meant for gaining the love and affection of people. I proceeded to end the friendship because it wasn't making me happy anymore. I understand that a true friend stays there through everything but in no way, shape, or form did I deserve to be kicked to the curb like a diseased puppy. It hurt, It hurt like a ***** But ultimately , I'm gonna be okay in the end. And I hope she ends up okay, too. But, just be okay without me.
0
May 25, 2017
May 25, 2017 at 8:30 AM UTC
Dear Ex-Best Friend.
Dear Ex-Best Friend, Remember all the times we spent together, everyday started with meeting before classes started because that was the only time we could talk until lunch, remember all the times we laughed so hard we cried? Do you remember all the times we had to hold one another in times of the need because we thought all we had was each other? Yeah.. Me too. We spent all the time in the world texting and calling each other. Things changed a little since I got a boyfriend, but I never replaced you. You always had a special place in my heart, and I think you always knew that. We drifted apart, like two boats at sea. You switched back to the school you came from, and it felt like my life had just sunk. Suddenly I was all alone in the hallways, Coming in to school was like hell, Seeing the spot we used to stand in, Occupied by another set of best friends, Or maybe two high school sweethearts- Making out like there's no one around. It was so lonely without you. You seemed happier where you were though, and at that time, that was all that mattered to me. I walked the hallways with a sad, sorrowful look. Teachers frequently asked if I was sick, or if I needed to lay down. Suddenly I was that one kid that everyone wanted to pick and beat on. (Again.) I was incredibly lonely at school, I couldn't even sit with anyone at lunch because I was so hated by so many people for reasons I didn't even know. Come upon my junior year I got a month and a half into the school year before I switched to the school that you went to. I was reunited with my best friend, Life seemed so good. I was with my boyfriend, and my bestfriend. It felt like nothing could stop me from gaining happiness. You began going through boyfriends, They would come, and they would go. I was put second to all of them. There were days I was so depressed I didn't function correctly, and all we would talk about is what you and your boyfriend did the previous night. I was so happy that you were happy, but I think I forgot the definition of "Happiness." Everyday was full of being ignored and having guys' push past me so they could hug you while I sat in the sideline just waiting there, tears filling in my eyes because I realized that I wasn't significant to my best friend any more. I couldn't help but wonder what I did wrong. I got tired of feeling this way, I grew up, and realized that highschool isn't meant for gaining the love and affection of people. I proceeded to end the friendship because it wasn't making me happy anymore. I understand that a true friend stays there through everything but in no way, shape, or form did I deserve to be kicked to the curb like a diseased puppy. It hurt, It hurt like a ***** But ultimately , I'm gonna be okay in the end. And I hope she ends up okay, too. But, just be okay without me.
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50
Darling, there are few facts that you must know as a student of science, And there are many more that you must know as a cute human being. There are three bearing mango trees & one guava tree outside our home, The guava tree is infested with the parasitic growth of a sacred fig tree. After many years' from today the "Bargad" tree will grow out, Ousting the guava tree it will finally be free but it won't forget guava tree. It will always feel having been parented by the guava tree, and so it might actually become a hybrid of both the trees and so a love child hybrid tree would ultimately give shade and fruits to people in the future generation. So should the ideal love of a human being be inspired towards everyone including the ones who they love and fellow human beings - selfless and pure.
0
Jun 11, 2014
Jun 11, 2014 at 1:09 AM UTC
Some Stuff About Biology & Love
*Wondering, if the universe flinched, when God took you away.* - dakota Will I grace your thoughts when the moment comes? Will your universe come to a complete standstill? Will you choke back your tears... Or by the buckets would they fill? This pain in my heart What is it? I know now it's love I know now I was bit... I clutch my chest and begin to think... Of the splintered shard I had failed to extract I feel subdued and ultimately shattered By the crushing bitter ripples of a broken pact I'm hurting much But strangely so... I'm beginning to savour it More than you know...
0
Jan 5, 2015
Jan 5, 2015 at 5:25 AM UTC
Bitter Ripples
I'm so ******* angry When I think of the drugs That took you away When I think of the first joint you innocently smoked Which led to the abuse of triple c's Which led to the abuse of alcohol Which led to the selling and abuse of ******* Which led to the abuse of ****** Which ultimately led to Your death What if I could have saved you What if I had said something Or done something Differently I was always there for you You were always there for me We were each other's constant I made you strong You made me strong Our love Made us weak A sweet weakness I was the queen of your heart Buzzed off our love Nirvana was our jam But then, just like that Bam You were gone And now my life is ****** My best friend, my true love Is away from me In the heavens I know he'll be Can't wait to see you again My Charlie
0
Sep 28, 2013
Sep 28, 2013 at 9:27 AM UTC
Gone Too Soon
you ‘why’ her. While she is thrilled & happily beside you, Telling you when she’s up to something new. Your pre-existing notion of setting a “ya” for her limits, Persistent "no" to her wishes, She grows up to know that, if she got to do something new She got to fight over the, 5 Ws & 1 H! Ow! & you convince it’s out of distress not mistrust! And by the Indian parenting manual, questionnaire weighs heavier at a girl. ultimately, “This time”, “That day”, " This place", “Those people” Would impregnate her! Sons of yours - Son of nights! freely hatching eggs past curfew. Not foreseeing the evenings his sister would come crying. Parents when you talk on equality & empowerment, Let broad mind not hit the very ceiling of your house Let rest mindset that proclaims gender roles, The differential idea you set on them, From who uses broom to who chooses groom. If misogyny is permeated in the roots of society Cleansing and changing begins in the family, Before there in your minds, first.
0
May 16, 2017
May 16, 2017 at 12:39 AM UTC
When you 'Why' her
The Years have passed by, In the blink of an eye, Moments of sadness, And joy have flown by. People I loved, Have come and have gone, But the world never stopped, And we all carried on. Life wasn't easy, And the struggles were there, Filled with times that it mattered, Times I just didn't care. And now as I grow older, It's become very clear, Things I once found important, Were not why I was here. And how many things, That I managed to buy, Were never what made me, Feel better inside. And the worries and fears, That plagued me each day, In the end of it all, Would just fade away. But how much I reached out, To others when needed, Would be the true measure, Of how I succeeded. And how much I shared, Of my soul and my heart, Would ultimately be, What set me apart. And what's really important, Is my opinion of me, And whether or not, I'm the best I can be. And how much more kindness, And love I can show, Before the Lord tells me, It's my time to go. © Pat A. Fleming
0
Nov 24, 2018
Nov 24, 2018 at 2:02 AM UTC
What is the true Meaning of Life?
He tried to spit out the truth; Dry-mouthed at first, He drooled and slobbered in the end; Truth dribbling his chin.
0
11.4k
Ultimately
Most days, you're not a woman developer, you're a developer. You work just as hard, You (try to) talk just as fast You keep your feelings under the surface (barely) Actually, scratch that You're always a woman developer. you're just so used to internalizing these habits Trying to have confidence in your skills despite the impostor syndrome pulling you down each time slowly, like quicksand Trying to make up for the confidence you never had compared to someone who always had it all Trying to not cry in the kitchen because god who is allowed to have feelings Trying not to talk about men who made you uncomfortable because oh my god for the fact that people call women overreacting most men seem to make every little statement about them, have you noticed? oh wow, isn't this just reverse sexism? oh wow, can I even talk to women? Being so vocal about being queer and Indian but if you make one noise one sound one phrase about your experience as a woman because in such welcoming company you subconsciously thought why not You let down your guard But There goes the shattered glass as the topic of gender-based discrimination is finally broached There goes the thing nobody ever talks about There starts the debate you did not want to participate in "Oh wow you're so harsh to these guys" "We were just slamming what they were doing, you slammed their actual personality wow" "I just said they sounded like a brogrammer" "sure if you say so" "Isn't that just an arbitrary description" How do you explain How do you describe every nuanced experience about Every male in your life who have been exactly like this to you How do you explain the light discrimination The harsh discrimination The systemic problem as a whole How can you condense all this into a workplace environment talk Where you don't usually talk about this? Where you don't know if you can actually talk about this Where you know that you ultimately don't want to talk about this cuz how can you explain these feelings that they can never understand You shut up and move on with coding. But inside, you're conflicted with ideas of presentations to express the fact, or never speak about this again Because in the end, You're just a developer, not a woman developer to them.
0
Jul 28, 2018
Jul 28, 2018 at 10:42 AM UTC
An Arbitrary Description (not really)
Most days, you're not a woman developer, you're a developer. You work just as hard, You (try to) talk just as fast You keep your feelings under the surface (barely) Actually, scratch that You're always a woman developer. you're just so used to internalizing these habits Trying to have confidence in your skills despite the impostor syndrome pulling you down each time slowly, like quicksand Trying to make up for the confidence you never had compared to someone who always had it all Trying to not cry in the kitchen because god who is allowed to have feelings Trying not to talk about men who made you uncomfortable because oh my god for the fact that people call women overreacting most men seem to make every little statement about them, have you noticed? oh wow, isn't this just reverse sexism? oh wow, can I even talk to women? Being so vocal about being queer and Indian but if you make one noise one sound one phrase about your experience as a woman because in such welcoming company you subconsciously thought why not You let down your guard But There goes the shattered glass as the topic of gender-based discrimination is finally broached There goes the thing nobody ever talks about There starts the debate you did not want to participate in "Oh wow you're so harsh to these guys" "We were just slamming what they were doing, you slammed their actual personality wow" "I just said they sounded like a brogrammer" "sure if you say so" "Isn't that just an arbitrary description" How do you explain How do you describe every nuanced experience about Every male in your life who have been exactly like this to you How do you explain the light discrimination The harsh discrimination The systemic problem as a whole How can you condense all this into a workplace environment talk Where you don't usually talk about this? Where you don't know if you can actually talk about this Where you know that you ultimately don't want to talk about this cuz how can you explain these feelings that they can never understand You shut up and move on with coding. But inside, you're conflicted with ideas of presentations to express the fact, or never speak about this again Because in the end, You're just a developer, not a woman developer to them.
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51
**he promised her things that only God could give yet with all of her whole, she believed: because love was their (arcane) goal** to them love was the roses, chocolates and the ever so cute 'goodnight' texts. it was the tiny 'XO's at the end of every love letter and the irresistible kisses on a bad day. it was them hiding under the sheets, ardently sharing every secret ever known to the world because the world that they knew was in their robust palms. little did they know that love was also the screams on a terrible day, the tears of a tortuous heartbreak and the piercing 'goodbye's after repeated arguments. it was the shredding of past love letters, the tearing of photographs and the burning of every remembered moment that was reminiscently shared in the creases of their hands (or their clenched fists). soon, the little lovebirds turned into fiery ravens because love was inexorable -- it was the wings that made them fly (in which direction it did not matter).  the "lovers" chose to fly anyway because ultimately, love reminded them of the misplaced souls that they possessed. (( though love only taught them of the ubiquity of hatred within them ))
0
Sep 19, 2014
Sep 19, 2014 at 12:31 PM UTC
the lovebirds
We may all seem different, but at the end of the day, we’re all the same in lots of ways. No matter where we’ve been, or who we’ve seen The consequences of our actions ultimately add up. It’s not just a dream. We must not fear, And if we stand up, the goodness within will overpower. This is enough. We may have different beliefs, labels and signs, But if we are true to ourselves it will all be just fine. And when we reach a point in our lives when it’s time to say, stop crying, I knew it would happen anyway. Accepting and loving, this is my virtue. Open and honest, I hope I have taught you. Overcome your prejudice and make ends meet. You know I always say, don’t do it in your home if you won't do it on the streets.
0
Apr 28, 2013
Apr 28, 2013 at 8:06 PM UTC
Atticus Finch
Recovery, Initially, is about knowing;  Knowing that change is necessary, Accepting that your life is not where you want it to be,  About facing up to your fears and anxiety Then taking the first step eventually… When you, and you alone, feel you are ready. Recovery, Critically, demands pure honesty, requires the utmost integrity Most Especially, when confronting your past traumas, your history Though it may make you feel angry, sad and often times guilty This process is key if you really want to move on, to change truly.     Recovery, Truthfully, is far from easy,  It can be fraught with challenges, setbacks, difficulty. It can hurt physically and even worse emotionally, Testing your will power to the extremity. It takes great Strength, Courage and Bravery; Determination, Resilience, in the face of adversity Recovery, Thankfully, need not be a lonely journey, Though you alone must take ultimate responsibility. There are lots of supports out there happily; from good friends, family and in your community Though it can be hard to ask for help, understandably…Let not pride undermine your recovery. Recovery, Ultimately, is about getting where it is you want to be, about starting anew daily About achieving realistic goals you have set regularly, Learning from the process; what worked successfully Starting to believe in yourself gradually, Gaining an insight into what you are capable of ...potentially Finally, Recovery is for all, a lifelong journey, Guarding against ambivalence, relapse, constantly. Knowing that every day will, in reality,  pose real threats for you in your recovery But every day also presents an opportunity… to engage with, enjoy, your life more fully.
0
May 19, 2023
May 19, 2023 at 12:59 PM UTC
Recovery....
Recovery, Initially, is about knowing;  Knowing that change is necessary, Accepting that your life is not where you want it to be,  About facing up to your fears and anxiety Then taking the first step eventually… When you, and you alone, feel you are ready. Recovery, Critically, demands pure honesty, requires the utmost integrity Most Especially, when confronting your past traumas, your history Though it may make you feel angry, sad and often times guilty This process is key if you really want to move on, to change truly.     Recovery, Truthfully, is far from easy,  It can be fraught with challenges, setbacks, difficulty. It can hurt physically and even worse emotionally, Testing your will power to the extremity. It takes great Strength, Courage and Bravery; Determination, Resilience, in the face of adversity Recovery, Thankfully, need not be a lonely journey, Though you alone must take ultimate responsibility. There are lots of supports out there happily; from good friends, family and in your community Though it can be hard to ask for help, understandably…Let not pride undermine your recovery. Recovery, Ultimately, is about getting where it is you want to be, about starting anew daily About achieving realistic goals you have set regularly, Learning from the process; what worked successfully Starting to believe in yourself gradually, Gaining an insight into what you are capable of ...potentially Finally, Recovery is for all, a lifelong journey, Guarding against ambivalence, relapse, constantly. Knowing that every day will, in reality,  pose real threats for you in your recovery But every day also presents an opportunity… to engage with, enjoy, your life more fully.
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19
I can't compute and become mute When you walk by My circuitry is fried Because your program is an encryption And your pulse is electromagnetic My car dies, so does my phone, so does my home I'm immobilized And demoralized By immoral ties To temporary generators They're validating veneraters Ultimately unsatisfying When you're still not buying I'm attracted to your charge Until there's a battery Yet you're the cure to your lure The EMT for your EMP Your negative charge casts a cloud around my nucleus But if you could be positive for a change We could meet in the middle And feel energy in our synergy But as soon as I feel electricity between us You shut me down With your EMP I can't get free
0
Oct 7, 2017
Oct 7, 2017 at 6:14 AM UTC
EMP
In fair Verona where Will set the scene Belle Fortune moves the markers up and down. Two households both alike in dignity Fiercely compete for fear of losing ground. When Juliet saw Romeo at the dance Events were set in motion that, perchance, Would see fair Juliet as our Romeo’s bride but ultimately result in her suicide. With Tybalt and Mercutio both dead, And Capulet and Montague estranged. Young Paris sought fair Juliet to wed not knowing of her loss of maiden-head. Romeo was banished for his crime, a sin for which a peasant would have died Their two households, joined because they wed, remained divided by their foolish pride. Summer’s fierce heat shimmered in the air, oppressive in the absence of a breeze. With Friar Lawrence’s help, Romeo’s girl played dead, as if struck down by some unknown disease Romeo , in Mantua, heard that his Juliet Lay dead amongst the sleeping Capulets. A draught of deadly poison he obtained So they might sleep together once again. When Romeo met Paris at her tomb, Words led to swordplay, leaving Paris dead. Would not the world have been a better place if Romeo had kept it sheathed instead? Unshriven, Romeo drank the poison down- the only son of Montague now dead. Perchance just then fair Juliet revives Bereaved, she took his Dirk to bed instead. Authorities, arriving at the scene, could only mourn a brace of kinsmen lost. Capulet and Montague were reconciled Their amity bought at a fearful cost.
0
May 22, 2013
May 22, 2013 at 7:47 AM UTC
Juliet and Romeo
I contemplate I buy it on aromatic instinct The fight emerges Don't eat it! You're not even hungry! I sit in my head While the words debate The palate ultimately wins My hands follow orders The sweet melting chew Savory icing Made for my mouth I close my eyes Taste buds dance Pure enjoyment A moment has escaped me In my candy land Until it's gone A guilty pleasure Plagued stomach Churning to Disappointed intestines An alien They don't quite understand As it has no nutrients or vitamins to absorb Sending the lipids and sugars Away to live as fat Surrounding areas I dislike most I look in the mirror And I imagine where that regretful donut went. © Jl 2016
0
Feb 19, 2016
Feb 19, 2016 at 6:16 AM UTC
Delicious Donut
Belief is never sweeter than to those who can't believe. Reconciliation is for those without relief. Forgiveness comes in times and places farthest from our expectations. But ultimately, we're the ones who must forgive ourselves.
0
Oct 8, 2012
Oct 8, 2012 at 7:15 PM UTC
forgive
I wear the letters NYU sprawled across my chest as my individuality is asphyxiated. Lungs choke under the weight of the added pressure. 
 The thought of college plus my complexion, Equals complexed looks that ponder my intellectually-heightened direction. 

 Will you think a little bit more of me, with my conformity?

 Attempts to better myself meet enough ignorance to even cloud the vision of God. Segregation and alienation cause mental spasms the strength of lightening rods. 


 I guess you're just a product of the environment to which you were exposed. 

 But I'm always trying to fight the stereotype that black people are ultimately foes.

 I am the ant and the kids of rich parents are magnifying glasses. 
 Cremating me with the solar power of son's who were taught that their existence was worth more than mine. 

 I lay motionless, in bottomless quick sand pits, itching to alleviate my stomach stitch, engulfed by set standards that could not be met. 

 I am tired of trying to be what you'd like to see. Astute, respectable, young black man-just so you can approve of me and hopefully think that we are not all "up to no good."

 Say it loud,
I'm black 
 And I'm, Not going to lie, The proud part is kinda hard to say. 
 Because I walk down the street and see my face in the homeless everyday. 

 I fill the prisons and I'm famous when the news reports crime. 
 And when I show up early to interviews, they look confused to see that I, Don’t run on Colored People's Time.

 I don't hate black but I hate the fact that black means that sometimes I have to find alternate routes to success. 

 While other people's roads are already paved, I suffer from all the stress. 


 I try my best but I'm always categorized as less, then a man. 

 And I'm trying to change perceptions but I still feel like a visitor on American land


 And the poor are physically trapped so I relate mentally.
 We both suffer from the oppression and accept the hatred like it was meant to be.


 Society has led you to believe that blacks are not worthy of equality


 But take a long, hard look into my eyes and tell me that you don’t see my humanity.
0
May 17, 2013
May 17, 2013 at 1:42 PM UTC
College + Complexion
I wear the letters NYU sprawled across my chest as my individuality is asphyxiated. Lungs choke under the weight of the added pressure. 
 The thought of college plus my complexion, Equals complexed looks that ponder my intellectually-heightened direction. 

 Will you think a little bit more of me, with my conformity?

 Attempts to better myself meet enough ignorance to even cloud the vision of God. Segregation and alienation cause mental spasms the strength of lightening rods. 


 I guess you're just a product of the environment to which you were exposed. 

 But I'm always trying to fight the stereotype that black people are ultimately foes.

 I am the ant and the kids of rich parents are magnifying glasses. 
 Cremating me with the solar power of son's who were taught that their existence was worth more than mine. 

 I lay motionless, in bottomless quick sand pits, itching to alleviate my stomach stitch, engulfed by set standards that could not be met. 

 I am tired of trying to be what you'd like to see. Astute, respectable, young black man-just so you can approve of me and hopefully think that we are not all "up to no good."

 Say it loud,
I'm black 
 And I'm, Not going to lie, The proud part is kinda hard to say. 
 Because I walk down the street and see my face in the homeless everyday. 

 I fill the prisons and I'm famous when the news reports crime. 
 And when I show up early to interviews, they look confused to see that I, Don’t run on Colored People's Time.

 I don't hate black but I hate the fact that black means that sometimes I have to find alternate routes to success. 

 While other people's roads are already paved, I suffer from all the stress. 


 I try my best but I'm always categorized as less, then a man. 

 And I'm trying to change perceptions but I still feel like a visitor on American land


 And the poor are physically trapped so I relate mentally.
 We both suffer from the oppression and accept the hatred like it was meant to be.


 Society has led you to believe that blacks are not worthy of equality


 But take a long, hard look into my eyes and tell me that you don’t see my humanity.
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31
two days before we loaded the car with what seemed like the entirety of my heart and belongings to move me across the state to attend college, my baby brother found me on the kitchen floor, crying about the microwave. well, not just the microwave. he found me in a crumpled up heap, sobbing that this day would be the last i had to microwave things in this particular microwave. i couldn’t justify my lament then. my dad chalked it up to *** my brother called me a drama queen, and my mom told me i needed to eat less microwaveable things. but i think i might’ve figured it out now. five months later. y’see, i grew up an ARMY brat. attended five different elementary schools, two separate middle schools, one high school, and two colleges. i was never good at saying goodbye, but i’m a pro at walking away. i found out quickly that while the faces and names of my friends and classmates change from state to state, the character tropes stay basically the same. people and places become such replaceable things. i worry, a lot, about being a replaceable thing. there are talented people in this world. people that can divine the past and future from coffee grounds and tea leaves. but can anyone here tell me what kinds of awful things my footsteps say about me? there are boot marks, with my name on them, in places i know i should never have been. and clumps of dirt stuck to my heels that have been with me longer than some friends have. i sat on the floor last night while my love explained physics to me. he told me that gravity is a constant force, and of course, the earth’s gravity affects each and every one of us. but our individual gravity affects the earth as well. according to newton’s third law, the earth pulls of me with the same force that i pull on the earth. my mass disrupts space time. carl sagan once told me through the clarifying prism of the television screen, that we are all stardust, collapsed suns and black matter. we belong to no place. i belong to no place. i belong to no place. i don’t cry about the microwave anymore, i don’t waste my tears on saying goodbye. i know that every thing and every one has their time, and sometimes that time is brief. it’s a hard pill to swallow, ultimately my favorite self descriptor is ‘infallible’. but somedays, i fall just to stand up and see: the sun still rises, the earth still turns, the microwave still makes bomb-ass chicken nuggets, and i am still here.
0
Nov 16, 2016
Nov 16, 2016 at 11:28 AM UTC
chicken nuggets
two days before we loaded the car with what seemed like the entirety of my heart and belongings to move me across the state to attend college, my baby brother found me on the kitchen floor, crying about the microwave. well, not just the microwave. he found me in a crumpled up heap, sobbing that this day would be the last i had to microwave things in this particular microwave. i couldn’t justify my lament then. my dad chalked it up to *** my brother called me a drama queen, and my mom told me i needed to eat less microwaveable things. but i think i might’ve figured it out now. five months later. y’see, i grew up an ARMY brat. attended five different elementary schools, two separate middle schools, one high school, and two colleges. i was never good at saying goodbye, but i’m a pro at walking away. i found out quickly that while the faces and names of my friends and classmates change from state to state, the character tropes stay basically the same. people and places become such replaceable things. i worry, a lot, about being a replaceable thing. there are talented people in this world. people that can divine the past and future from coffee grounds and tea leaves. but can anyone here tell me what kinds of awful things my footsteps say about me? there are boot marks, with my name on them, in places i know i should never have been. and clumps of dirt stuck to my heels that have been with me longer than some friends have. i sat on the floor last night while my love explained physics to me. he told me that gravity is a constant force, and of course, the earth’s gravity affects each and every one of us. but our individual gravity affects the earth as well. according to newton’s third law, the earth pulls of me with the same force that i pull on the earth. my mass disrupts space time. carl sagan once told me through the clarifying prism of the television screen, that we are all stardust, collapsed suns and black matter. we belong to no place. i belong to no place. i belong to no place. i don’t cry about the microwave anymore, i don’t waste my tears on saying goodbye. i know that every thing and every one has their time, and sometimes that time is brief. it’s a hard pill to swallow, ultimately my favorite self descriptor is ‘infallible’. but somedays, i fall just to stand up and see: the sun still rises, the earth still turns, the microwave still makes bomb-ass chicken nuggets, and i am still here.
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81
yes, you can kiss my rose petal eyelids my stained cheeks my humming neck my willing waist my burning skin anywhere on my restless body but kiss my lips, and I'll spend the rest of my life aching grieving searching for your stinging tongue   fate assured me    we'd burn violently     but ultimately suns die      every flame grows tired       every bulb will break       every wick will drown        charred and regretful     weary and worn out    drained of energy   choking for air i'm not ready to ignite just yet
0
Dec 31, 2017
Dec 31, 2017 at 8:02 AM UTC
safety precautions
*i was looking at an old and tattered black and white photo of my grandfather a man i never knew and wondered about his existence like a horizon of dissolution his soul enshrined in my own and like him and all creatures ultimately i remain defenseless against realities magnitude while my father loved me as a child he grew unkind over the years and we where set bitterly against one another other his tyranny and my disobedience as i gathered strategies craft by machinery of thought and festering gall he, the bully got bullied back by me and old age as we in tandem set fire to his sadistic golden age of disillusionment and here we are now the living and the dead still locked in a grudge a recurring spirit of revenge in a valley of tears before i myself join the ephemeral legions in a pile of stones and ashed corpses are we not a procession of long struggles and short pleasures a history of terrors and creatureness stooges bound by the wheel creation crucified by desire and the apathy of obliterations aftermath an archeology of death ruin upon ruins has God sinned against man or bestowed his grace mystified perfect and beautiful beyond measure yet to be discovered in an alternate reality?
0
Nov 4, 2017
Nov 4, 2017 at 10:26 AM UTC
HORIZON OF DISSOLUTION
Kissing upside-down. At first it seems like a fun idea. (If spiderman can, we can, right?) But ultimately, it's clumsy And awkward. They say opposites attract But when my top lip And your bottom lip Try to match up together, There's no denying, It doesn't quite fit. A crash-collision. With him it was like kissing upside-down: Cool for a while But the top and bottom just don't match Quite like they do right-side up, And it lost its novelty at a steady pace. Two different halves don't always make a whole. Sometimes it's two of the same. Kissing her is like kissing regular. I don't mean regular-regular. I mean over the moon, Past the stars, Around the universe and back again regular. I mean running so fast you think your legs Might fall out from under you And you might learn to fly regular. I mean spinning in circles On an old tire swing Until you reach that moment when you forget where you are And feel the rotation of your organs So you stop to watch the world swirl before you Putting everything out of perspective regular. As unique as 'normal' could possibly exist. I guess For me, Him and her Just didn't seem to fit The same way She and her Does. And I don't think I'll be kissing anyone Upside-down again For a while.
0
Sep 29, 2014
Sep 29, 2014 at 4:09 PM UTC
Metaphor