"unsolicited" poems
zelle ma belle
(zelle is an interbank system for sending cash in an instant to someone else’s bank account)
sent her an unexpected $250,
at 4:00am, of course,
a check-plus for her life,
because she revel reviews her day at school,
as special person day, teaches them well, and
anointed, appointed unsolicited confirmation by them
“as part of our family”
how they crave her body, her touch, at scary movie parts,
her kitchens diner size menu,
her refusal to ever disappoint,
her candy drawer supreme,
her crayon color visions which they execute,
her zen sense of their moods,
and for me,
for calling them without hesitation
my grandchildren
indeed more here hers than mine
she asks me why the $$ and poet doesn’t lie
but thinks quick at 7:30 am while bed prone,
“you won Nana of the Day award”
the only (grandparent) on the floor with two kids in her lap,
for the magic show,
all the rest,
benched, chattingly adultry things
she thinks on it and says
“ok, I accept!”
p.s. also, I have yet to inform her of the (my) elimination of a
crystal champagne flute while doing my manly cleanup from Friday night lights dinner pink champagne celebrating
le weekend’s arrival
olp
Apr 21, 2018
Apr 21, 2018 at 8:33 AM UTC
"What are you up to?" his simple text said
"Just eating cereal and laying in bed."
"What if I was with you." He responded with ease, "I guess I'd get more cereal if i please" and that's when he said it, that simpering lad, that stupid response that makes us all mad.
My mind filled with dread,with a twist in my gut,
I picked up my phone then read "Haha,then what ;)"
"And then what?!" Shocked by his assumptious pleas,
"Leave me alone, I'm begging you please"
And just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, he muttered those three dreaded words. Yes, I kid you not. That little *****
I opened his message that read "pic 4 pic?"
The I retorted: "No do not send your unsolicited 'pics', I can surely see past your little tricks."
And that's when things took an alarming switch
The boy with the wounded ego replied, "You're just an ungrateful *****
The very next morning, the boy put on his fedora and let out with a sign, "Why does no one like me? I am such a nice guy"
Aug 21, 2015
Aug 21, 2015 at 12:09 PM UTC
I feel the warmth of the sun on my skin,
Every time I leave home,
I feel the gentle breeze caressing my hair,
Each time I leave for work,
Yet, the distant morning don’t feel the same anymore,
For things are no longer the way they used to be.
Family & friends are no longer faces I see every day,
Neighbours are no longer people I meet & greet,
And colleagues have now become occasional struggles,
What’s more?
The outbreak has truly destroyed our livelihoods,
Leaving us with nothing but hope.
Hope for all of this to end,
Hope for a miracle in these unsolicited times,
While we push ourselves to the core,
To stay alive in this uproar.
Jan 29, 2021
Jan 29, 2021 at 4:19 PM UTC
a birthday poem for S.
perhaps, this is the responsibility, the purposeful gentility,
that poetry engenders, that thwarts the impulse to anger,
guiding away, finding a way, to temper the temper, to out
and joust away our basest, our first, but never our foremost
nor finest, succinct instinct, yet terrible human nonetheless...
perhaps, this is where we hide, neath our carnival masque,
our-would-be better selves, and struggle in this, this intensity intentional,
the season's change is subtly blatant, not obvious 'cept to those
who have a front seat, a well worn Adirondack chair in the nook
where the airy breeze offers fruits of words so easy, pluck words
as easy as breathing, and the slight gradation change, in the light and
temperature, and yet, the suns cares not, for it still warms my body,
though lower and slower, nonetheless, when the heat invades my soul, confirming my, our, existence,
burning off the fog of our contradictory confusions,
and eliciting an unsolicited
"thank you god"
for my, our personal miracle of re~birthing
and better comprehending,
that other
miracle we can embrace
never enough
loving kindness
sun~mon
sep 14~15
twenty twenty five
Sep 15, 2025
Sep 15, 2025 at 8:33 AM UTC
Begot Intentions can impurify
Unsolicited Charity does attempt
Even much as a Pickled Song can try
Bites back at you; And bills you for Contempt
What now the Rage of Imperial Process
Punishes the Dreader to stock and refill?
Nowadays you stick to perform your Best
Later on you sit by the Window-Sill
Still, check this Stubborn Loyalty in me
Then decide if Ignorance you forgot
My Words mean Truth; Even if Force-Believe
Just to show your Radio, the Model-Lot.
Still Deaf, eh? Even when the Snake has cast,
Flashing films on such scales you know will pass.
Mar 12, 2013
Mar 12, 2013 at 2:59 AM UTC
All gone now
and you're nothing
but a wound
cracking open
at 3 am- unsolicited
-Farewell, my beloved! Is there a farewell at all?
Every kiss you blew me
was a kiss goodbye
Every inch of skin
that caressed yours
was a vow
I bestowed
to love you
forever and ever more.
And the wine in my veins
says shut up! He's gone
And the cigarette smoke
takes you away from me
And all these men I toy with
they are nothing like you.
I've missed the train
of my thoughts
I sit back
and gaze at them
from afar
taking you away
I call out your name
but there are no words
I am stuck in nirvana
or else-
in sheer garrulous void
without you.
Who opened this wound anyway?
I'm sure it was open
from the scratch
I just couldn't feel it
bleeding me away.
Only a caress away
but I'm a *****
in your eyes
a ******* ***** *****
with no feelings
I can defend
my dignity only
before the strike
of midnight
that breaks my heart
spills my ***** feelings
all over my face
I love you
but it's dark at this hour
and you're too ******* blind.
Jul 11, 2021
Jul 11, 2021 at 4:06 AM UTC
you may call it
critiquing
but you're just an *******
May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 1:32 PM UTC
You will probably always
be savage
as a drop of pond water.
The unnecessary magnification
of this wee orb
always reveals monsters -
animalcules -
relax.
The background
is shit-green.
All of life
flows from
our scumminess.
Dec 2, 2014
Dec 2, 2014 at 12:29 AM UTC
I pleaded with him
For his disposition
To help me out of
My plight and position
He for sure heard me
But perhaps didn’t listen
Wasn’t apparently ready
To help my condition
The pep talk that he gave
And unsolicited suggestion
Made clear that he wanted
Wriggle out of situation
We often have to fight out
Our battles in isolation
Nov 21, 2011
Nov 21, 2011 at 1:44 PM UTC
when you are twenty something and haven't
grown out of what your family called “baby
fat” don't worry, because you are still loved
by your body. everyday it wakes you up and
nourishes you, and when it fails to do that, it's
only a malfunction, a button hit wrong. when
you get shamed into wearing a one piece by
your friends in eighth grade, don't panic, because
that swimsuit is killer and everyone you are
with is working it. when your friends talk about
skinny shaming since they have never experienced
fat shaming, listen. when you see fat shaming,
talk about it. when your mother starts shopping
in the plus size area for you, don't feel ashamed.
your body is meant for what it is meant to do.
when you have a panic attack in the dressing
room of the local american eagle for not fitting
into size sixes, calm yourself down, no one will
ever see that size. black it out with a sharpie, cut
it out with scissors, let the tag fly. when you
get ****** into pro-ana sites, shut off your phone.
when you are on your knees with two fingers in
your mouth, close the toilet. when you use ice
cubes as a snack, eat something else. don't
let your brain become a calculator before it’s
too late. when you come into school the next
day, your friends complaining about a not flat
stomach, tell them that the sack needed to hold
parts of your body is not flat for a reason. when
they complain about size four jeans, show them
how you wear eights like a badge of honor, like
your lipstick or your hair. show your stretch marks
as tattoos, show your cellulite as gold, your hips
as the gates to your mansion, and your thighs are
thunder thighs, let them boom down and let them
be free.
Aug 22, 2016
Aug 22, 2016 at 6:28 PM UTC
If it wasn't almost 2016, I would call you on your house phone from my corded phone in my kitchen, we'd chat quickly as to not rack up my phone bill, we would make dinner plans and call it good.
But it is almost 2016 and I'm actually looking at your Facebook and your girlfriends Instagram and I'm laughing / crying over the gag worthy photos she has you featured in.
If it wasn't almost 2016, I wouldn't even know you had a girlfriend and I wouldn't have tried to save the poor girl from your ***** lying ways.
But it is almost 2016, and when Snapchat helped me find out you had a girlfriend while still trying to **** me, I DID try to save the poor girl from your ***** lying ways. You told me not to say anything more, but I had to stop this because I know the feeling of a heartbreak like the one you were about to cause her.
If it wasn't almost 2016, I wouldn't have access to every social media platform that allows me to see every single detail of your life. I wouldn't be driving myself crazy with questions and no answers.
But it is almost 2016, and I get to watch your life unfold with someone else and wonder why I came in last, still no answers.
If it wasn't almost 2016, forget tinder and my quirky bio with the 6 best photos I've ever taken, you'd call me on my corded phone because you actually knew IRL how fun and quirky I am and you'd already have seen me in all my green eyed, beautiful brunette glory.
It is almost 2016 and that means I am just another girl that you aren't looking for something serious with because you're a boy in his early 20s craving freedom. Instead you send me ***** text messages because you're a boy in his early 20s and you met me on Tinder. I am a girl in my early 20s and when you met me on Tinder, you assumed I wanted less than a relationship and a little more than a "hey how are you?" convo.
If it wasn't almost 2016, you wouldn't have detailed all the ways you would make me feel good because would you ever really say those things to my ******* face?
But it is almost 2016, and you didn't say any of those things to my ******* face, you said it beneath the unsolicited picture of you naked in your bathroom mirror and you even added that ******* emoji with the sunglasses, like what you were doing to me was actually super cool.
If it wasn't almost 2016, I wouldn't have known that you were feeding lies to me on a silver platter, I would have gorged myself on your tasty sweet nothings.
But it is almost 2016, and I am starving myself of something worthy and filling because I can't stop reading the tasty sweet nothings you are feeding her.
It is almost 2016 and I wish I could have said **** you to your two timing face instead of via text message.
**** you, again and again and again.
Nov 19, 2015
Nov 19, 2015 at 6:03 PM UTC
A friend can be like the storm that blows everything up, tries your patience, causes changes; but reminds you to be geared up and vigilant.
A friend can be like the rain that, at the first pour, leads into anxiety; but later on, raindrops keep you calm, thus a friend shows tranquillity upon everyone – serene and happy.
A friend can be like a lightning rod that strikes everyone surprise with annoyance to the ears; but reminds you that a surprise – with all its noises – grants unsolicited bliss which lasts in memory.
A friend can be like a cloud that separates from the others in the vastness of the expanse, and floats alone – the emo, ; but reminds you to be considerate and sympathetic at all times.
A friend can be like the mist that seems mysterious and unreachable, full of secrets and vagueness; but reminds you to take risk of knowing him profoundly so to appreciate the truth within.
A friend can be like the sun – superior in nature – that can heat up the situation; but gives you warmth in times of coldness, reminds you that darkness would just pass, and that the new morning unfolds soon to absorb your pessimisms.
And a friend is as constant as this – day or night, sunny or rainy, cold or warm, filled or cloudless – the azure that covers everyone beneath any threat, any trial, any worry, any doubt; the azure that holds a promise of watching over you as it did yesterday and is doing today, and the azure that awaits your hopeful tomorrow…
Is that which embraces you under its shelter and defence – yes, the great sky.
Jun 30, 2013
Jun 30, 2013 at 1:02 AM UTC
Margy shouts her advice from outside Greggs
unsolicited, but often needed
usually it concerns fashion
- the choice of a scarf
- inappropriate shoes for the weather
- or the state of a pair of trousers, hanging and baring a cleavage
(“No one wants to see that, dear.”)
Margy can be relied upon to wear the same distinct socks
– draped around her stocking feet, their multi-coloured design now greyed
by wear and the Uxbridge Road.
Margy is more reliable than her friends and she tells them as much
(“You’re all a bunch of time wasters.”)
demanding more loyalty and demands from me enough for a cup of tea
- a very expensive one apparently.
And on a Sunday, she’ll kneel and pray throughout the early Eucharist,
declining the bread and wine
(”On, no dear. It’s not a habit I want to cultivate.”)
Jun 19, 2022
Jun 19, 2022 at 3:26 PM UTC
I am slender and my figure is the topic of discussion
unsolicited advice about how much I should eat
as if my weight is their goal to reap
I am skin and bones just like you
I feel confident and insecure just like you
Looking into my mirror and reflecting on your comments
Analyzing every curve or lack thereof like it is a contest
who can be the King and Queen of Fools
suffering self-esteem underneath the entrenched rules
I hope you never feel the way you make others feel
A broken bird
Aug 31, 2021
Aug 31, 2021 at 8:56 AM UTC
so now, do I, I do,
he favors the the top of my breast ,
where the spaghetti strap leads
his eye lower, to the fulsome swelling,
curves he favors in a linear
world
these magnets of human flesh are
attributes of me, unsolicited, part
of my “collegial endowment” and
yet,
no denial,
this egg of my accent,
a fullness employable, knows well,
full employment
ah, mon oeuf d'accent,
the accent of my accidental,
for lives are just linear lines
warped occasionally, nicely.
swelling in wonderful frailty,
the curvature of the human
eyes, that draw curves of
human spirit,
^that are drawn by sprites
with wickedly humorous
insight*
Dec 6, 2023
Dec 6, 2023 at 3:55 PM UTC
I am sorry for the:
Unsolicited **** pics
Request for nudes
Catcalling
Inappropriate or creepy comments
Failing to listen
Acting without asking
Emotional manipulation
Emotional unavailability
Approaching you to practice game
Shaming your sexuality
Meanwhile glorifying my own.
Laws governing your body
Calling you beautiful before
Brilliant
Speaking over/behind/beneath you
Lust in my eyes
Oct 6, 2018
Oct 6, 2018 at 1:57 PM UTC
You mangy mutt
Please look at us
We want to see your eyes
I cannot
Contain myself
When I sympathize
And all we want
Is just three words
Unsolicited
And all I want
Is just a touch
And blessing on the head
What has happened to you
A hex, A Vexation
Please come back
And did you see me walk out
A test, or reality
I’ll come back
She looks for
just her share
Of your attention
He waits for
You to help
Build a nation
I don’t feel
I’m asking more
That you said you’d give
Not privilege
Or shiny things
Show me how to live
What has happened to you
A hex, A Vexation
Please come back
And did you see me walk out
A test, or reality
I’ll come back
When we
Burn the Witch
Burn her
Burn her
Burn the Witch
Burn her
Burn her
Burn the Witch
Burn her
Burn her
Burn the Witch
Burn her
Burn her
Sep 5, 2012
Sep 5, 2012 at 8:29 PM UTC
The paths that lay ahead call
Singing harmoniously to the soul
A chorus of whispers like flitting wings
Opinions, unsolicited and unwelcome
The future is seen in logical deduction
Two steps down this road
Five steps down that
Some are well lit
While others sit in the darkness of the unknown
Eenie, meenie, miney, and moe
Life is ruled by a despot
Every choice, each minute decision
Made by one
There is no team in, I
Take a deep breath
One foot in front of the other
The options are limitless
Final say and fate accepted
There is no one to blame
When responsibility lies within
Change direction at will
Enjoy the unexpected
Each life a maze
Each with its own tyrant
Jul 4, 2015
Jul 4, 2015 at 9:49 PM UTC
Glimpsed of innocence
Casually met
Words from strangers
A lot in common
Wine and smiles
Unsolicited lies
Cool distaste
Remnants of disrespect
Cracks in the ice
The inevitable rift
Fragmented faces
The corrosion of moments.
Oct 5, 2014
Oct 5, 2014 at 12:24 AM UTC
Why oh why do you keep your head buried in your hands
Let the tears stain your clothes and face
Over a harmless act they define as unacceptable
Raise your head up out of the dirt
Wipe the tears away
You, darling, are a person
A human
Made up of love and music and beauty
Yes, there will be mistakes
But there are second chances and do overs
Let tomorrow be a new slate
A fresh canvas
Ready for you to make the art you were always meant to create
Dear friend, you are capable of more than you give yourself credit for
So let tomorrow worry about itself
And do not worry about yesterday’s mistakes
For they will not matter in the long run
Give all the love you have
Lend your hands, your ears, your heart, your time
Allow yourself to make mistakes
You need not achieve perfection in order to love others
You need not achieve perfection in order to love yourself
Feb 22, 2015
Feb 22, 2015 at 5:38 PM UTC
They shared a mutual hatred for people
that disclosed unsolicited details about their relationshits.
Even though they spoke everyday
goodbyes never got easier.
brb, gonna sleep for eight hours.
What will you dream of?
You want me to say you, and I want me to say you, but I have no control over my dreams. You're only reserved for my daydreams.
They exchanged a plethora of photographs.
#thighhighThursday
Send.
I lIkE yOuR sOcKs.
It wasn't long before they perfected the art of taking selfies in the shower.
Send.
LeT's PlAy NaKeD tWiStEr.
Sometimes they broke the unspoken rules they'd agreed to.
The rules that banned them from getting too cutesy;
or twee as he liked to put it.
Cuddling is just hugging laying down.
For much longer.
Cuddling is just horizontal hugging for a long time.
Oct 28, 2013
Oct 28, 2013 at 12:59 AM UTC
he asked a question
and without waiting
for a response
drew three cards
from that divinatory deck
usually carrying as little
meaning as a tossed coin
scoffed at and swiftly ignored
this time seemed to tell
a recognisable tale
unexpected in its providence
a fortune perhaps
to favour the brave
the hanging man
with his eight swords
and his eight wands
these cards showed him
the start of a journey
not necessarily a life
turned upside-down
instead that a change
of perspective is needed
the octet of swords
unveiled his cage
of indecision
uncertainty and fear
a need to upset
the balance of the inert
a reasoning for destruction
in order to create
and those upright wands
carrying with them
such signs of movement
a willingness to decide
a commitment to progress
either that or
the pack was simply
reshuffled and dealt
again and again
until it foretold
that which needed
to be heard
Aug 11, 2023
Aug 11, 2023 at 8:48 PM UTC
I want to meet you.
On a cold, rainy afternoon.
When the dew caresses our world with wet, unsolicited kisses.
One of those days where nothing seems copacetic.
Your eyes, like pools of liquid sunshine.
Saving me from the turmoil.
What a beauteous star you are.
It’s unsettling,
Not knowing when and where we will meet.
Maybe I will bump you as I rush onto the train,
Just barely avoiding the pincer-like doors
As they snap close with a vice grip.
Or maybe our eyes will lock from across a crowded lecture hall,
With pupils that tell the sincerity of our smiles.
Who knows where it will be.
But when the time comes,
I hope to have the courage to utter the words
Beautiful enough to have you shed protective layers
That will allow me to bask in the ambiance of your benevolence.
Aug 17, 2012
Aug 17, 2012 at 4:30 PM UTC