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"yelling" poems
if ever you wonder if ever your heart should grow curious for lust and love and spirit electricity that splits the spine a jolt of lightening rushing through wide open veins baby hairs standing on end on the nape of your neck a wave of cold sweat dripping through your hair moistens your back if ever a moment passes if ever you refrain from yelling loud sing a melody scream “i love you” skip through a crowd of people and smile laugh dance and forget your worry the temporary madness of yesterday because you are static, ecstatic you are wonderful
0
Sep 4, 2013
Sep 4, 2013 at 1:57 PM UTC
for the broken
I am a miserable **** Traffic jam thoughts. Aimless speech. Fever dreams, coffee with no cream, love with no pulse, alone at restaurants,             at grocery stores,             at parties. I have no identity. Shifting shape, black to blue, trading girls, red hair for Persian skin, parents and gods, politicians and lost purpose mobs, all asking me to be sacred,                             to be loving,                             to be trusting,                             to be active,                             to have no spine. All I want is a bit of my own time. A grenade of change, to end the coagulation of my brain, to leave me hungry for anything other than me, didn't somebody say I was promised something?                                             I was going somewhere?                                             I was unique? I am the same miserable **** As every other miserable **** The ******* that cut you off on Highway 62, The person that complained about too many pickles, on his precious fast food, The boy yelling at his baby sister for getting too much attention, The girl sexting your boyfriend, The boy sexing your girlfriend, The generation divorcing everyone it knows so it can fall in love with itself. All different, in exactly the same way. Traffic jam thoughts. Traffic jam thoughts.                    Traffic jam thoughts. Traffic jam thoughts.             trafficjamthoughts. traffic. Traffic Jam Thoughts. Thoughts. Traffic. Traffic. Traffic. Traffic. Traffic. Traffic. Jam. thoughts. traffic. trafficjam. trafficjam. traffic jam thoughts.traffic. traffic jam. traffic, traffic, traffic. I am a miserable **** Traffic jam.
0
Aug 16, 2010
Aug 16, 2010 at 9:28 AM UTC
Density
I am a miserable **** Traffic jam thoughts. Aimless speech. Fever dreams, coffee with no cream, love with no pulse, alone at restaurants,             at grocery stores,             at parties. I have no identity. Shifting shape, black to blue, trading girls, red hair for Persian skin, parents and gods, politicians and lost purpose mobs, all asking me to be sacred,                             to be loving,                             to be trusting,                             to be active,                             to have no spine. All I want is a bit of my own time. A grenade of change, to end the coagulation of my brain, to leave me hungry for anything other than me, didn't somebody say I was promised something?                                             I was going somewhere?                                             I was unique? I am the same miserable **** As every other miserable **** The ******* that cut you off on Highway 62, The person that complained about too many pickles, on his precious fast food, The boy yelling at his baby sister for getting too much attention, The girl sexting your boyfriend, The boy sexing your girlfriend, The generation divorcing everyone it knows so it can fall in love with itself. All different, in exactly the same way. Traffic jam thoughts. Traffic jam thoughts.                    Traffic jam thoughts. Traffic jam thoughts.             trafficjamthoughts. traffic. Traffic Jam Thoughts. Thoughts. Traffic. Traffic. Traffic. Traffic. Traffic. Traffic. Jam. thoughts. traffic. trafficjam. trafficjam. traffic jam thoughts.traffic. traffic jam. traffic, traffic, traffic. I am a miserable **** Traffic jam.
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45
My name is Erin and i was ***** at the age of 7 it has taken me 14 years of my life for those 13 words to escape my hollow mouth the only questions i come to now is why why lock me in that room why take everything from me my innocence my purity my childhood in that room where my family trusted you where i trusted you the night terrors i have to this day still haunt my mind like a never ending drive in movie that plays over and over only the moon in the night sky isnt made to be found here there is no light in these terrors i cant sleep this time of year because every time i do its you in that room locking the door shutting the windows ********** me yelling at me every single night i close my eyes it has taken me 14 years to accept the fact that i was taken by you i have been numb ever since left in the dust rotting away at the core thinking i was nothing thinking i deserved nothing because you took everything but not anymore i will recover from this i am strong enough i believe in myself i believe in my own happiness and i promsie that when i have children one day i will never ever let them rot at the core i will find happiness the darkness will not take over this time
0
Feb 27, 2018
Feb 27, 2018 at 3:17 AM UTC
The Anniversary of What Started Everything
My generation is the technology generation We are connected 100% of the time My generation is the "selfie" generation A generation of self love and positivity My generation believes you can love someone Even if they're thousands of miles away My generation is the download generation Music from every era is at our fingertips They'll tell you all this is bad They'll say we're a generation ruled by technology And we are, but that's not a bad thing My generation is the one being killed in the street For the color of their skin My generation is the one yelling "hands up don't shoot" And reminding people Black Lives Matter My generation checks social media And hears about news before CNN or Fox My generation uses pictures and videos To dispute the lies we're being fed My generation has the power to change the world They'll say technology is ruining my generation, It's not. It's ruining theirs.
0
Aug 28, 2015
Aug 28, 2015 at 10:34 PM UTC
My generation
I was packing some snus when I got up from a snooze to put a **** In a boiling vat of hotdog juice. She was screaming and yelling as I poured in the salt and the cops busted my door as my meal came to a halt. I said "whats the rush?" He said ***** hush" As he sipped very angrily at his watermelon slush. I am black yes very black so they put me in the back of their ****** cop van. I went to jail again For trying to cook a **** in a boiling vat of hotdog juice as I watched espn. I got out of jail Cause my drug money was bail went back home to see a fresh cooked **** in my garbage pail. I was so happy that I took a break to fappy on my nice leather couch while my girlfriend was napping. Today was a good day. Ice cube agreed. I smoked all of my **** and gave into my greed. ***** don't **** my vibe.
0
Jun 15, 2014
Jun 15, 2014 at 5:07 PM UTC
Boiling Vat of Hotdog Juice
My childhood was sunshine, summer days, pool, book, trees, It was yellow dandelion, carpet lawn and endless blue and green as far as I could see standing on my tiptoes on a swing in the backyard jumping down onto smooth soft summer grass in the flat calm ivy-colored sea It was stars on the night sky like stars on my ceiling, hair floating up around me with my dreams, pulling me out the open window into air, into indigo, into midnight blue, nail-polish painted sky on the sweet-smelling cedar easel, in the dark room, where I come sometimes to touch the beginning with butterfly-soft fingers My childhood was hide and seek, shut up in closets, smiling, laughing, giggling, yelling tag you’re it, as it touched board game movers and pushed them one two three around boards colored like rainbows that I rode around the world and into the universe Now my childhood is two yellow foam blocks asking me, “Why?” “Where?” but I don’t know why it’s gone or where it’s gone to, all I know is that I’m not ready, but here I come
0
Mar 28, 2017
Mar 28, 2017 at 12:51 AM UTC
It Happened Slowly-- In steps-- Until I Woke Up One Day This Winter and Thought to Myself, "Now, Where Has My Childhood Gone?"
You say you love me, Then threaten to leave me. When does this love Become unhealthy? When you tell me that After this I can't have any more partners? As though I had any say in yours. When you enforce a set of boundaries While completely disrespecting Those I ask of you? When you don't want to hear about it But you do want to hear about it And if I don't tell you about it Then you're just as upset As if I'd brought it up? When you call me while I'm working Yelling because you say I ****** up And you want to hear me cry Because then you'll know That I still care about you? When you're telling me How in love you are with me And how you love when we connect While telling your other partners That I'm really just immature And a horrible person for Trying to hold your hand? What about when You're trying to control Your partner's and my behavior By telling them that They can't hang out with me Or be my friend anymore Since it's a choice of solidarity And it breaks their loyalty to you? Completely disregarding that We are best friends too? Or when you expect me to call into work Because you aren't satisfied with The way our discussion ended And you think that you need to be Always my main priority Over even my financial security? When I'm expected to be present Whenever you want to talk about us Or about an issue we're having But if you don't want to talk about it Then you'll just turn your phone off? Or what about when You boast about how Open and transparent you are Then turn around and Expect me to know what your feeling And how to fix it Before we even talk? And if I don't know Then I guess I'm just stupid Which only makes you more angry And lastly, What about when I'm trying to talk to you about the things That are causing me pain But you can't even listen to me Because you just get angry Because of course I'm just demonizing you? And even if my feelings are valid So are yours And you think I'm wrong So nothing ever changes When do I draw the line And walk away from this "love" That I honestly Don't know if I feel anymore?
0
Jun 11, 2018
Jun 11, 2018 at 7:55 AM UTC
When Do I Leave You?
You say you love me, Then threaten to leave me. When does this love Become unhealthy? When you tell me that After this I can't have any more partners? As though I had any say in yours. When you enforce a set of boundaries While completely disrespecting Those I ask of you? When you don't want to hear about it But you do want to hear about it And if I don't tell you about it Then you're just as upset As if I'd brought it up? When you call me while I'm working Yelling because you say I ****** up And you want to hear me cry Because then you'll know That I still care about you? When you're telling me How in love you are with me And how you love when we connect While telling your other partners That I'm really just immature And a horrible person for Trying to hold your hand? What about when You're trying to control Your partner's and my behavior By telling them that They can't hang out with me Or be my friend anymore Since it's a choice of solidarity And it breaks their loyalty to you? Completely disregarding that We are best friends too? Or when you expect me to call into work Because you aren't satisfied with The way our discussion ended And you think that you need to be Always my main priority Over even my financial security? When I'm expected to be present Whenever you want to talk about us Or about an issue we're having But if you don't want to talk about it Then you'll just turn your phone off? Or what about when You boast about how Open and transparent you are Then turn around and Expect me to know what your feeling And how to fix it Before we even talk? And if I don't know Then I guess I'm just stupid Which only makes you more angry And lastly, What about when I'm trying to talk to you about the things That are causing me pain But you can't even listen to me Because you just get angry Because of course I'm just demonizing you? And even if my feelings are valid So are yours And you think I'm wrong So nothing ever changes When do I draw the line And walk away from this "love" That I honestly Don't know if I feel anymore?
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74
**** doesn’t always hide At parties and outside clubs **** doesn’t always hide In dark alleys and empty parking lots Sometimes it is right in front of you But you choose to look the other way **** doesn’t always hide Behind the faces of strangers in the night Sometimes it is hiding behind the closed doors Of your uncles Cousins Fathers And brothers **** isn’t always loud- Screaming, yelling, and crying Sometimes **** is quiet- Gasping for air and silent tears
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Mar 2, 2018
Mar 2, 2018 at 12:14 AM UTC
**** Doesn’t Hide (trigger warning)
First comes the flush Then the rush of horniness loneliness A splash of pain Droplets of scarlet rain and the ****** of lingerie Sobbing at roses Yelling at trays You're spotty and bloated and splayed on the bed like Cleopatra drugged up on painkillers And the cocktail that humanity spiked with hormones Fun.
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Jan 12, 2015
Jan 12, 2015 at 4:32 PM UTC
A Cocktail of Hormones
I began my life active with sports and other meaningless award systems. Girl's recreational soccer, basketball, bike riding, math competitions, the works Today, I feel weightless useless would be best fit As if all the running, jumping, yelling, point requiring statuses pushed the light out of my transitioned life. I find myself sitting in one area often, as one may do But different than sitting on a bench or sitting actively in company of others I sit wondering exactly who I am looking at Why am I empty lifeless longing towards an imaginary spot in the distant wall I imagine some events in these minutes of stoic despair Hearing goes weak and frozen, in this second, while I continue my Sunday brunch with non-conformative attitudes and her mother, the sweet old dementia I don't mean to have their meetings often, I must of first acquainted as the first grade trauma or the Broadway rendition of Alone Thoughts featuring the Broken High School Years. I hope to work the wheels again, to end these meetings and to live for once, in the midst of motion and pause. This time, stopping and starting as I please.
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Jul 31, 2018
Jul 31, 2018 at 3:57 PM UTC
I Won a Mathematics Award in the 5th Grade
If yelling at her in an argument doesn't make your throat burn like you just downed 6 shots, you don't love her. If her eyes can't make you stop in your tracks and think about what you're about to say next, you're not in love with her. If her laugh doesn't make you tense up your knuckles thinking about never hearing it again, you're not in love with her. If her voice can't calm you're worst anxiety attacks and makes you want to listen to anything she has to say, you're not in love with her. If her smile doesn't make you're chest quake and your lungs shrink but feel refreshed all in one motion, you're not in love with her. If her taking off her clothes is when you pay the most attention to her, you're not in love with her.
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Mar 17, 2016
Mar 17, 2016 at 11:50 AM UTC
Your Not In Love With Her.
Babels of blocks to the high heavens towering Flames of futility swirling below; Poisonous fungi in brick and stone flowering, Lanterns that shudder and death-lights that glow. Black monstrous bridges across oily rivers, Cobwebs of cable to nameless things spun; Catacomb deeps whose dank chaos delivers Streams of live foetor that rots in the sun. Colour and splendour, disease and decaying, Shrieking and ringing and crawling insane, Rabbles exotic to stranger-gods praying, Jumbles of odour that stifle the brain. Legions of cats from the alleys nocturnal. Howling and lean in the glare of the moon, Screaming the future with mouthings infernal, Yelling the Garden of Pluto's red rune. Tall towers and pyramids ivy'd and crumbling, Bats that swoop low in the weed-cumber'd streets; Bleak Arkham bridges o'er rivers whose rumbling Joins with no voice as the thick horde retreats. Belfries that buckle against the moon totter, Caverns whose mouths are by mosses effac'd, And living to answer the wind and the water, Only the lean cats that howl in the wastes.
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15.8k
The Cats
i’ve never fallen in love before but i’m telling you if i did, my bones would screech and creak and crack to build you a home that doesn’t fight back and i would shower you with love until you drowned because i don’t know how to love unless it becomes too much someway or somehow and you would become all that i breathe and need and see and the very sound of your name would be enough to cause another relapse because i’ll get addicted too soon and too fast and you’ll think it’s great at first until i’m publicly on my knees aching for your velvet kisses back and i've never cared for someone this way before but i'm telling you if i did, my lungs would collapse and inflate again and again because you will be the only thing i'll ever breathe in and the people in my life would never amount to you, and maybe that's a little messed up but i wrote it felt it bled it, so it must be true because i don't know how to let someone in unless i push every other person out and you'll love my attention at first until you're throwing glass plates at my following figure until you're yelling regrets and things i should've considered until you hate me because you don't want to be the only one even if i want you to be. i’ve danced with the devil because he has the prettiest eyes i’ve ever seen in my life but i didn’t love him i’ve kissed the hands of god because he smells like my childhood home and i liked that a lot but i didn’t love him i’ve cut open my skin for my first girlfriend because she promised to stay and that drove me insane but i didn’t love her and i’m telling you if i did i would write a poem convincing her that i didn’t because i’ve never loved in a way that doesn’t became some form of a burden. and i don’t love you yet but i am going to scrub my words into your naked body and i am going to promise that there’s nobody but you and you are going to love every second of it because you’ve given in to destruction and seduction and you already understand everything about pain you already know there’s everything to lose and i’m the only thing you’d gain but that’s okay because you’ve never fallen in love before.
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Aug 24, 2018
Aug 24, 2018 at 2:38 PM UTC
before i fall for you
i’ve never fallen in love before but i’m telling you if i did, my bones would screech and creak and crack to build you a home that doesn’t fight back and i would shower you with love until you drowned because i don’t know how to love unless it becomes too much someway or somehow and you would become all that i breathe and need and see and the very sound of your name would be enough to cause another relapse because i’ll get addicted too soon and too fast and you’ll think it’s great at first until i’m publicly on my knees aching for your velvet kisses back and i've never cared for someone this way before but i'm telling you if i did, my lungs would collapse and inflate again and again because you will be the only thing i'll ever breathe in and the people in my life would never amount to you, and maybe that's a little messed up but i wrote it felt it bled it, so it must be true because i don't know how to let someone in unless i push every other person out and you'll love my attention at first until you're throwing glass plates at my following figure until you're yelling regrets and things i should've considered until you hate me because you don't want to be the only one even if i want you to be. i’ve danced with the devil because he has the prettiest eyes i’ve ever seen in my life but i didn’t love him i’ve kissed the hands of god because he smells like my childhood home and i liked that a lot but i didn’t love him i’ve cut open my skin for my first girlfriend because she promised to stay and that drove me insane but i didn’t love her and i’m telling you if i did i would write a poem convincing her that i didn’t because i’ve never loved in a way that doesn’t became some form of a burden. and i don’t love you yet but i am going to scrub my words into your naked body and i am going to promise that there’s nobody but you and you are going to love every second of it because you’ve given in to destruction and seduction and you already understand everything about pain you already know there’s everything to lose and i’m the only thing you’d gain but that’s okay because you’ve never fallen in love before.
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49
It's a darkness that surrounds you. It covers your eyes, And swims in your ears. To keep you from seeing light, Or hearing laughter. Instead you see everything In a dull and dark way. Colors are no longer vibrant, And lines seem to be blurred. There is no more beauty in a sunset, Or majesty in the ocean. It's just water now. And every sound is muffled now. You can't differentiate your favorite song From any other anymore. The sound of laughter is more bitter than sweet. Every song is the same bleak humm. And laughter just makes me wish I was deaf. The darkness even dulls touch. A kiss doesn't make your heart beat fast anymore. And contact seems nauseating. A kiss is just a reminder That nothing good lasts. And most other interaction makes my skin crawl. But now the darkness is in your brain. In here, sometimes it's not dull at all. Sometimes the darkness Takes the shape of a monster. A monster that whispers terrible things And just gets louder when you try not to listen. Sometimes the darkness Feels like war inside your mind. But yes, again, the darkness is dull. Sometimes there is no monster, No war, And no yelling at all. Sometimes when the darkness gets in your mind, It becomes a silence. I can't make out a clear thought, Because all there is Is silence. The darkness takes the shape Of death. The silence, the nothingness of death. And it becomes part of you, Making your mind nothing but silence And nothingness. But the worst part about the darkness Is my inability to communicate its existence. I can't make anyone understand The many shapes it can take. How it can be torturous and loud But comfortable just the same. It's easy to talk about the monster, Because it's something foreign and Something present. But everything else, The dullness of senses And the silence it becomes, Can't be expressed. Because in these forms, The darkness is absence of life. It's absence of color, Sound, Touch, And thought. And it's so hard to paint a picture Of something that isn't even there. I can paint a picture of a monster With ****** teeth and devilish eyes. But I cannot paint the nothingness The darkness so often is. And to me, nothingness is the most dangerous. I can fight a monster. But I cannot fight nothing. Nothingness will swallow you. It will take over your senses And thoughts, And eventually will to live. Life is colorful. Life should be loud. Life should be funny. And sometimes painful. But when the silence, The nothingness arrives, There is no color. There is no sound. No laughter. Or even pain. There is no life at all.
0
Nov 18, 2015
Nov 18, 2015 at 3:45 AM UTC
Hello darkness my old friend
It's a darkness that surrounds you. It covers your eyes, And swims in your ears. To keep you from seeing light, Or hearing laughter. Instead you see everything In a dull and dark way. Colors are no longer vibrant, And lines seem to be blurred. There is no more beauty in a sunset, Or majesty in the ocean. It's just water now. And every sound is muffled now. You can't differentiate your favorite song From any other anymore. The sound of laughter is more bitter than sweet. Every song is the same bleak humm. And laughter just makes me wish I was deaf. The darkness even dulls touch. A kiss doesn't make your heart beat fast anymore. And contact seems nauseating. A kiss is just a reminder That nothing good lasts. And most other interaction makes my skin crawl. But now the darkness is in your brain. In here, sometimes it's not dull at all. Sometimes the darkness Takes the shape of a monster. A monster that whispers terrible things And just gets louder when you try not to listen. Sometimes the darkness Feels like war inside your mind. But yes, again, the darkness is dull. Sometimes there is no monster, No war, And no yelling at all. Sometimes when the darkness gets in your mind, It becomes a silence. I can't make out a clear thought, Because all there is Is silence. The darkness takes the shape Of death. The silence, the nothingness of death. And it becomes part of you, Making your mind nothing but silence And nothingness. But the worst part about the darkness Is my inability to communicate its existence. I can't make anyone understand The many shapes it can take. How it can be torturous and loud But comfortable just the same. It's easy to talk about the monster, Because it's something foreign and Something present. But everything else, The dullness of senses And the silence it becomes, Can't be expressed. Because in these forms, The darkness is absence of life. It's absence of color, Sound, Touch, And thought. And it's so hard to paint a picture Of something that isn't even there. I can paint a picture of a monster With ****** teeth and devilish eyes. But I cannot paint the nothingness The darkness so often is. And to me, nothingness is the most dangerous. I can fight a monster. But I cannot fight nothing. Nothingness will swallow you. It will take over your senses And thoughts, And eventually will to live. Life is colorful. Life should be loud. Life should be funny. And sometimes painful. But when the silence, The nothingness arrives, There is no color. There is no sound. No laughter. Or even pain. There is no life at all.
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90
For the first time in my life I'm writing to my friends. Or maybe it's for my friends. Because I never thought things would end like this. I never thought things would even end. They've been here for years and they'll be here for more, I thought. But all that was lost when they saw my life as a battle to be fought. I've never been good with spoken words but I've never been silent with my writings. So I'm speaking and shouting and yelling about how I never knew things were ending. Tell me things. Anything. Please. I'm so lost at what to do. Specially here and now that I don't have any one of you. I know it's not good, you could say unhealthy, even. But I've grown so used to all of you, you were my safest haven. But I know I lost it. And I know that you see it. But help me out and tell me why you saw my friendship and decided to drop and leave it. So this is my sorry. And my thank you. And my fare well. I know you are all better without me but i won't be better without you, and I hope you can never tell.
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Jan 22, 2017
Jan 22, 2017 at 12:21 PM UTC
Fri•ends
It all begins With pronouns I becomes the subject Of my project Adding you And collectively we I choose you and me And I exclude the he and the she Until I am certain of we You and I pick verbs actions Inflect them to match fit begin narratives Transitive verbs take objects You touch tickle tease taste take skin ******* lips me with words Words have become a clause But still a simple construction So, you tickle me where? For this you need a preposition To position your tickling ammunition Do you touch tickle tease me ON my ******* ******* thighs buttocks **** Do you feel me INSIDE my mouth **** soul? Positioning is envisioning. Then you use adjectives To modify descriptions of Sensory inscriptions So, gentle complements touch Soft and passionate kiss And you become superlative And adverbs elaborate experience expression exploration You fill me deeply thoroughly violently with all that is you But adverbs can also mean time Not sweet or cursed time Or time denoting age But timing is always important And grammar dictates That Time adverbs are placed As a beginning or an end Like a lover's embrace Thus, This morning, you woke me with A demanding "here and now! " and I will reciprocate this, tonight, I vow. Conjunctions are sentence connectors And sentences behave like detectors Bodies balancing with and, but, or Otherwise subordinate And the scale tips towards Conditioning hypotaxis Making actions a complicated praxis (before my mind can connect, you will have to pursuade it /pursue it) But we coordinate conjunctions Equally I touch you You touch me Exploring Exploding sensory functions So, together we cry imperatives Completing our ****** narratives Moaning Whimpering Begging Yelling: Please... bind me! touch me! bite me! take me! come! Oh! Please, come! I love the English language... ;)
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Feb 24, 2013
Feb 24, 2013 at 5:10 PM UTC
Exploring Grammar (why I love the English language)
It all begins With pronouns I becomes the subject Of my project Adding you And collectively we I choose you and me And I exclude the he and the she Until I am certain of we You and I pick verbs actions Inflect them to match fit begin narratives Transitive verbs take objects You touch tickle tease taste take skin ******* lips me with words Words have become a clause But still a simple construction So, you tickle me where? For this you need a preposition To position your tickling ammunition Do you touch tickle tease me ON my ******* ******* thighs buttocks **** Do you feel me INSIDE my mouth **** soul? Positioning is envisioning. Then you use adjectives To modify descriptions of Sensory inscriptions So, gentle complements touch Soft and passionate kiss And you become superlative And adverbs elaborate experience expression exploration You fill me deeply thoroughly violently with all that is you But adverbs can also mean time Not sweet or cursed time Or time denoting age But timing is always important And grammar dictates That Time adverbs are placed As a beginning or an end Like a lover's embrace Thus, This morning, you woke me with A demanding "here and now! " and I will reciprocate this, tonight, I vow. Conjunctions are sentence connectors And sentences behave like detectors Bodies balancing with and, but, or Otherwise subordinate And the scale tips towards Conditioning hypotaxis Making actions a complicated praxis (before my mind can connect, you will have to pursuade it /pursue it) But we coordinate conjunctions Equally I touch you You touch me Exploring Exploding sensory functions So, together we cry imperatives Completing our ****** narratives Moaning Whimpering Begging Yelling: Please... bind me! touch me! bite me! take me! come! Oh! Please, come! I love the English language... ;)
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89
Darling, who ever told you that home is made out of bricks? Home is whenever your heart feel at ease and be at peace Home is whenever you go to places and in love with the streets Home is whenever you listen to the music and jam to its rhythm This two-story building made out of bricks, is a place that shouldn't be burden off your shoulders is a place that should you reminisce in joy instead of grief is a place that should be a sanctuary rather than asylum Darling, who ever told you that home is made out of bricks? Home is whose eyes were jet black with a heartbeat Home is whose smirks feel like summer in winter days Home is whose touch melts away even the toughest iceberg "Well", you said, "this two-story building made out of bricks, is a place where I hear more yelling than laughter is a place where my dreams died and buried deep is a place where I used to shamelessly call as home
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Jul 21, 2018
Jul 21, 2018 at 1:22 PM UTC
House of Broken Dreams
What we have named Fire Escape (an ordered, angular tangle of ladders and rail) had made picture geometries in my west window well-framed and flat--set foreground and background in two dimensions, as the sun hid, and my round eye opened. What we have named Fire Escape was flaked-paint brown orange, as if first it had been born of a flame and then had taken up living as metal-- tempered itself into usefulness, which I should trust now, in case of the yelling and the engines. What we have named Fire Escape was happy Jungle Jim or Jungle for Jane for the sparrows I saw this morning which flitted and wildly played within, rising up arched and back again. Made of the square pairs of ladder rungs-- a tunnel entrance or ducking posts, or highway bridges to clear; the birds like small plane, daredevil pilots each following each, going under. No sparrow would ever crash. And what is this I remember now? How one bird eased its engine and perched there to stay? As if to offer me, with a little turn of head gesture-- a thank you, for the bread I'd left on the sill? Or to say I'd better shut the curtain and make my exit? Either prideful guess gets me nowhere fast. Failed even is speaking in any sparrow languages from my recline stuffed chair; again, but now imagined, to draw beady eyes to fix on me, telling me much less. That morning, with the very last sparrow gone, I remember that nothing in my sight moved, save an American flag at a distance in the wind, with its one red-white striped wing waving toward the cold north, as the white church spire, framed in open quadrilaterals, held its position.
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Apr 15, 2013
Apr 15, 2013 at 5:18 AM UTC
A Fire Escape of Sparrows
What we have named Fire Escape (an ordered, angular tangle of ladders and rail) had made picture geometries in my west window well-framed and flat--set foreground and background in two dimensions, as the sun hid, and my round eye opened. What we have named Fire Escape was flaked-paint brown orange, as if first it had been born of a flame and then had taken up living as metal-- tempered itself into usefulness, which I should trust now, in case of the yelling and the engines. What we have named Fire Escape was happy Jungle Jim or Jungle for Jane for the sparrows I saw this morning which flitted and wildly played within, rising up arched and back again. Made of the square pairs of ladder rungs-- a tunnel entrance or ducking posts, or highway bridges to clear; the birds like small plane, daredevil pilots each following each, going under. No sparrow would ever crash. And what is this I remember now? How one bird eased its engine and perched there to stay? As if to offer me, with a little turn of head gesture-- a thank you, for the bread I'd left on the sill? Or to say I'd better shut the curtain and make my exit? Either prideful guess gets me nowhere fast. Failed even is speaking in any sparrow languages from my recline stuffed chair; again, but now imagined, to draw beady eyes to fix on me, telling me much less. That morning, with the very last sparrow gone, I remember that nothing in my sight moved, save an American flag at a distance in the wind, with its one red-white striped wing waving toward the cold north, as the white church spire, framed in open quadrilaterals, held its position.
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Just think when you're sick of working someones desperate for any job someones got 4 jobs and still can't pay their bills Just think when you're down someones contemplating suicide someones been diagnosed with terminal cancer Just think when you're hungry someones really starving someones watching their child die Just think when you're aching someones yelling the pain is so much someones screaming tortured for just being Just think for a moment step outside of yourself for just 5 minutes Be grateful for every single day
0
Jun 27, 2014
Jun 27, 2014 at 3:24 PM UTC
Be grateful for every day
I always suspected electricity Ran rampant through my veins To make me dazed and dizzy But unable to sit still It made me prone to flights of fancy So I left giddy trails of sparks Blazing proof of my restlessness That once brightly caught your eye Once your gaze had found my own My moods came in swooning flares And you crackled alongside me Filling my aching, empty silence With shiny, blessed noise We burned so beautifully With my electric fire And your trilling declamations Light and sound intertwining Like thunder that had finally caught up with its lightning It seemed like Nature's order A completion of the whole Two halves that followed each other Unthinkingly and automatically So one day when I found silence It felt like Earth itself was splitting Panicked, I burned more brightly Stoked the fire just in case I feared that I had dimmed And been the cause of this new quietness So when I still heard nothing I thought my efforts insufficient And I ran my highest currents Until my wires nearly melted Thinking the sun and I were comparable And anticipating a response And still I heard no trilling No crackling at my side So I wondered if perhaps I had shined beyond your limits Swiftly, I contracted Reined in my flares and doused the fire Thinking sudden darkness Might just shock you into sound I finally heard the faintest popping Not quite the rending that I wanted But a break from quiet all the same Afraid of spoiling the moment I leashed my electricity Kept myself dim so I could hear you Though I felt the writhing beneath my skin It finally became unbearable So I flashed like wild lightning Lashed out and struck the ground Hoping for your thunder A dark and roiling storm Swirling raindrops and clouds colliding And deep, ugly noise All I wanted was your thunder But in the end It was only me yelling Screaming out for downpours Alone Listening to my own echoes Waiting for you to harmonize In the end I was always waiting Wondering when you'd chosen silence Wondering why I'd let you dim me Wondering how it was we'd ever burned
0
Nov 27, 2010
Nov 27, 2010 at 1:45 PM UTC
Screaming Out For Downpours
I always suspected electricity Ran rampant through my veins To make me dazed and dizzy But unable to sit still It made me prone to flights of fancy So I left giddy trails of sparks Blazing proof of my restlessness That once brightly caught your eye Once your gaze had found my own My moods came in swooning flares And you crackled alongside me Filling my aching, empty silence With shiny, blessed noise We burned so beautifully With my electric fire And your trilling declamations Light and sound intertwining Like thunder that had finally caught up with its lightning It seemed like Nature's order A completion of the whole Two halves that followed each other Unthinkingly and automatically So one day when I found silence It felt like Earth itself was splitting Panicked, I burned more brightly Stoked the fire just in case I feared that I had dimmed And been the cause of this new quietness So when I still heard nothing I thought my efforts insufficient And I ran my highest currents Until my wires nearly melted Thinking the sun and I were comparable And anticipating a response And still I heard no trilling No crackling at my side So I wondered if perhaps I had shined beyond your limits Swiftly, I contracted Reined in my flares and doused the fire Thinking sudden darkness Might just shock you into sound I finally heard the faintest popping Not quite the rending that I wanted But a break from quiet all the same Afraid of spoiling the moment I leashed my electricity Kept myself dim so I could hear you Though I felt the writhing beneath my skin It finally became unbearable So I flashed like wild lightning Lashed out and struck the ground Hoping for your thunder A dark and roiling storm Swirling raindrops and clouds colliding And deep, ugly noise All I wanted was your thunder But in the end It was only me yelling Screaming out for downpours Alone Listening to my own echoes Waiting for you to harmonize In the end I was always waiting Wondering when you'd chosen silence Wondering why I'd let you dim me Wondering how it was we'd ever burned
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Mom is drunk, talking **** Grandma is drunk, laughing at her pain Dad is drunk, yelling Aunty is sobbing Brother locked himself in a room Cousin won't stop crying Uncle passed out I clean up all of their broken pieces with no one left to clean up me
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Dec 22, 2015
Dec 22, 2015 at 2:27 AM UTC
Home For The Holidays
No one has ever asked So no one ever knows How do I feel It's like I speak in codes For one I am tired Of crying and yelling Of being sad and pretending Of being alone and angry Of feeling stuck and angry Of needing help and remembering Of being different and missing thing                                                                                                      I AM TIRED...                                                                                                             I am tired of being stepping stones                                                                                                                      Of being forgotten and alone                                                                                                                     I tired of all the pain and hurt                                                                                                                      Of being treated just like dirt                                                                                                      I am tired of wanting the easy way out                                                                                                                              Of being pushed around                                                                      TIRED                         T-                         I-                         R-                         E-                         D- T - tired of being tormented I- tired of trying to impress R- tired of my rage E- tired of my emotions D- tired of death                                                                  I AM TIRED                                                                                                         I am tired of sickness that haunts me                                                                                                      I am tired of my own brain that taunts                                                                                                                             Of being called a coward                                                                                                                                Of feeling overpowered                                                                                                                 I'm tired of look beyond the bad                                                                                                                                   I'm tired of being sad                                                                                                     I am tired of all the burden to my stress                                                                                                                               I'm tired of all this mess                                                                                                                        I'm tired of feeling worthless                                                                                                                    I'm tired of having no purpose                                                           I AM TIRED I am tired of setting my goals aside I am tired of the saying "I tried" I am tired of ending up as a last choice I am tired of feeling remorse I am sick and ******* tired of life........                         always getting the best of me....                                                                                                   I am tired of wondering "what could be"                                                           I AM TIRED I am tired of endless hope I am tired of being the world's biggest joke                                                           I AM TIRED                                                                                                   I am tired of being tired because you see Being tired caused these endless emotions...                                                                                                                                                   Out of me...                                              I AM TIRED OF BEING ME                                 CAN YOU HEAR MY EMOTIONS NOW?                                         DO YOU KNOW HOW I FEEL?                               OR DO YOU CHOOSE NOT TO NOTICE                                                               I AM ...                                                              ...TIRED
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Nov 1, 2016
Nov 1, 2016 at 10:55 PM UTC
Tired
No one has ever asked So no one ever knows How do I feel It's like I speak in codes For one I am tired Of crying and yelling Of being sad and pretending Of being alone and angry Of feeling stuck and angry Of needing help and remembering Of being different and missing thing                                                                                                      I AM TIRED...                                                                                                             I am tired of being stepping stones                                                                                                                      Of being forgotten and alone                                                                                                                     I tired of all the pain and hurt                                                                                                                      Of being treated just like dirt                                                                                                      I am tired of wanting the easy way out                                                                                                                              Of being pushed around                                                                      TIRED                         T-                         I-                         R-                         E-                         D- T - tired of being tormented I- tired of trying to impress R- tired of my rage E- tired of my emotions D- tired of death                                                                  I AM TIRED                                                                                                         I am tired of sickness that haunts me                                                                                                      I am tired of my own brain that taunts                                                                                                                             Of being called a coward                                                                                                                                Of feeling overpowered                                                                                                                 I'm tired of look beyond the bad                                                                                                                                   I'm tired of being sad                                                                                                     I am tired of all the burden to my stress                                                                                                                               I'm tired of all this mess                                                                                                                        I'm tired of feeling worthless                                                                                                                    I'm tired of having no purpose                                                           I AM TIRED I am tired of setting my goals aside I am tired of the saying "I tried" I am tired of ending up as a last choice I am tired of feeling remorse I am sick and ******* tired of life........                         always getting the best of me....                                                                                                   I am tired of wondering "what could be"                                                           I AM TIRED I am tired of endless hope I am tired of being the world's biggest joke                                                           I AM TIRED                                                                                                   I am tired of being tired because you see Being tired caused these endless emotions...                                                                                                                                                   Out of me...                                              I AM TIRED OF BEING ME                                 CAN YOU HEAR MY EMOTIONS NOW?                                         DO YOU KNOW HOW I FEEL?                               OR DO YOU CHOOSE NOT TO NOTICE                                                               I AM ...                                                              ...TIRED
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And now there would come a time a swift sharp clock on the bed Blaring its little chime in between the hard bells Like an angry little arm Charming if not for the alarm And everyday I slap the face of it Like an unwanted ***** And she is silenced Quick unlike Said chick But I am a cruel guy and have no sense of wet and dry Nor cool or heat There's nothing bothering me Time just ticks off and I laugh at it But my cells divide and turn into little old protoplasmic men And yet I am not called upon them Because they are stupidly designed and I have no sympathy for arts and crafts No masterman who failing to raise his hand Clams up With such poor artwork Slap that ***** in the dilapidated sistan Now In San Francisco Where the alley streets stink of *** And the European facades are just that Crumbling Poopy And full of **** And what yet are they dreaming to be? The church that survived fire Great conflagration God didn't make a rainbow at the end of that, Now did he? He's a water-sign Dolt And water only jolts your mind When it scatters true light, Ain't that right? But it's all the same Just different hues And the news Isn't new Just Blaring and yelling And speeding television crews Riding their stories Up and down the many stories Trying to build a city of angels On a bituminous hill Shills No life skills And I walk the city streets with a ugly old leather Brief Casing the joints and rolling my own Unhappy and alone Kerouac and the dreams on the monangular input where the triangular avenues meet And he has no road While airplanes shake their jets on the tarmac and trebuchet into the air Going god knows where Seeing a new piece of the sculpted pinball Perpetually trapped in the machine How bout Nippon Or Hangujin Or Han Chinese Or Berlin Anywhere but when A little ways along the state Of "in" All these strange things
0
Aug 16, 2018
Aug 16, 2018 at 3:00 PM UTC
That ******* from Pastebin or 10it or whatever
And now there would come a time a swift sharp clock on the bed Blaring its little chime in between the hard bells Like an angry little arm Charming if not for the alarm And everyday I slap the face of it Like an unwanted ***** And she is silenced Quick unlike Said chick But I am a cruel guy and have no sense of wet and dry Nor cool or heat There's nothing bothering me Time just ticks off and I laugh at it But my cells divide and turn into little old protoplasmic men And yet I am not called upon them Because they are stupidly designed and I have no sympathy for arts and crafts No masterman who failing to raise his hand Clams up With such poor artwork Slap that ***** in the dilapidated sistan Now In San Francisco Where the alley streets stink of *** And the European facades are just that Crumbling Poopy And full of **** And what yet are they dreaming to be? The church that survived fire Great conflagration God didn't make a rainbow at the end of that, Now did he? He's a water-sign Dolt And water only jolts your mind When it scatters true light, Ain't that right? But it's all the same Just different hues And the news Isn't new Just Blaring and yelling And speeding television crews Riding their stories Up and down the many stories Trying to build a city of angels On a bituminous hill Shills No life skills And I walk the city streets with a ugly old leather Brief Casing the joints and rolling my own Unhappy and alone Kerouac and the dreams on the monangular input where the triangular avenues meet And he has no road While airplanes shake their jets on the tarmac and trebuchet into the air Going god knows where Seeing a new piece of the sculpted pinball Perpetually trapped in the machine How bout Nippon Or Hangujin Or Han Chinese Or Berlin Anywhere but when A little ways along the state Of "in" All these strange things
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Abortion A screaming baby yelling “Mommy! Please don’t let me go!” All because it wants to see this world But Mommy happens to have regrets and a mind filled with shame All because nobody knows about little James or Joyce Mommy isn’t ready for mistakes to happen A screaming baby yelling “Mommy! Please don’t give up on me!” All because it wants to see Mommy smile But Mommy happens to head to the clinic All because she’s thinking about abortion Mommy isn’t ready for regrets to happen A screaming baby yelling “Mommy! Please don’t do this to me!” All because it wants to see its first birthday But Mommy happens to grab for the scissors and then panics All because she finally realizes life’s a blessing Mommy isn’t ready to fall down the same path as last time A screaming baby yelling “Mommy! Please make the right choice! All because it wants to know its gender But Mommy happens to suffer from *** All because she was ***** by a unknown man Mommy happens to give life to a healthy James Denzel Roberts But… A screaming baby yelling “Mommy! I thank you!” All because it misses its mommy But Mommy happens to give James up for adoption All because she doesn’t want James to suffer Mommy happens to die 2 weeks later As… A screaming baby yelling “Mommy! You’ll always be in my heart!” By Zyanneh Frazier
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Oct 5, 2015
Oct 5, 2015 at 7:14 PM UTC
Abortion
What I fear isn’t hairy eight legged creatures crawling into my mouth at night What I fear isn’t the whole “Something’s gonna come out of the dark and eat me,” while I’m trying to get a glass of water in the middle of the night. Nor even when my father angrily yells at me Because in all honesty he starts regurgitating spit from his mouth making it so hard to take him seriously when he’s drooling. What I’m afraid of is… I’m afraid of tomorrow… You see, Once upon a time On a Saturday Night I was so excited to finally finish writing my second chapter of my fan fiction Talking to a few friends. And relaxing from my stressful day of a Saturday. Then suddenly a wild message about financial aid appears, Now, This isn’t where my fears start coming to life This isn’t even where my thoughts were being provoked. This was just a simple conversation about financial aid information. You see,| My friend knows little about financial aid and my friend asked about the information I know. I thought, “Well I have limited knowledge on this…I’ll give my friend my best answers and hope it turns out alright.” Well, Things didn’t turn out the way I had imagined it. You see, This private conversation evolved into a group chat And even the financial aid information conversation evolved into, “How are you going to pay for your college expenses?” You see, I don’t fear of creatures with eight legs, I don’t fear of monsters in the darkness I don’t even fear of my father’s angry tone! I fear what tomorrow’s going to be I fear that my future will only just be a dream. It’s so hard to be focusing on where I’m going to be at next year when this year looks like the saddest thing on Earth. It’s so hard to concentrate on tomorrow when today looks like a horrible nightmare. Today, I’m stressed I’m not stressed about my grades I know I work harder than the average student. I’m not stressed about the guy I might like Because right now, A boyfriend is not what I be needing. I’m stressed that I may not get a job I’m stressed that my dad may lose his I’m stressed that my mom can’t find another I’m stressed that I won’t be able to pay for my ACT Ticket I’m stressed that I won’t be able to afford my SAT Subject Ticket I’m stressed that I won’t be able to pay for my college apps And I’m stressed that I can’t get fee waver Because according to the government my parents make too much for me to have one When in reality My family barely survives on a paycheck. It’s getting harder and harder to survive on that paycheck Because presently speaking It’s getting harder and harder to pay to keep on living. And because I don’t have a job yet, My parents are still forced to pay for me to keep on living. I’m stressed that I’m not going to have a tomorrow I’m stressed that I’m not going to go to a college to pay college expenses for I’m stressed that this fear is going to keep controlling my life! But… I can’t let that happen… I can’t let this fear run my life. ‘Cause sooner or later its going to run it down tot eh ground and I won’t be able to recover from that I can’t let this fear consume me, Because I’ll never find a way out. I fear something… I don’t fear eight hairy legged creatures crawling into my mouth at night, I don’t fear monsters eating me alive while I’m trying to get something to drink. Nor do I fear my dad yelling at me. I fear of tomorrow. I can’t focus on where I’m going to be at next year when today is all foggy with no sign of light.
0
Dec 11, 2011
Dec 11, 2011 at 4:29 AM UTC
I fear.
What I fear isn’t hairy eight legged creatures crawling into my mouth at night What I fear isn’t the whole “Something’s gonna come out of the dark and eat me,” while I’m trying to get a glass of water in the middle of the night. Nor even when my father angrily yells at me Because in all honesty he starts regurgitating spit from his mouth making it so hard to take him seriously when he’s drooling. What I’m afraid of is… I’m afraid of tomorrow… You see, Once upon a time On a Saturday Night I was so excited to finally finish writing my second chapter of my fan fiction Talking to a few friends. And relaxing from my stressful day of a Saturday. Then suddenly a wild message about financial aid appears, Now, This isn’t where my fears start coming to life This isn’t even where my thoughts were being provoked. This was just a simple conversation about financial aid information. You see,| My friend knows little about financial aid and my friend asked about the information I know. I thought, “Well I have limited knowledge on this…I’ll give my friend my best answers and hope it turns out alright.” Well, Things didn’t turn out the way I had imagined it. You see, This private conversation evolved into a group chat And even the financial aid information conversation evolved into, “How are you going to pay for your college expenses?” You see, I don’t fear of creatures with eight legs, I don’t fear of monsters in the darkness I don’t even fear of my father’s angry tone! I fear what tomorrow’s going to be I fear that my future will only just be a dream. It’s so hard to be focusing on where I’m going to be at next year when this year looks like the saddest thing on Earth. It’s so hard to concentrate on tomorrow when today looks like a horrible nightmare. Today, I’m stressed I’m not stressed about my grades I know I work harder than the average student. I’m not stressed about the guy I might like Because right now, A boyfriend is not what I be needing. I’m stressed that I may not get a job I’m stressed that my dad may lose his I’m stressed that my mom can’t find another I’m stressed that I won’t be able to pay for my ACT Ticket I’m stressed that I won’t be able to afford my SAT Subject Ticket I’m stressed that I won’t be able to pay for my college apps And I’m stressed that I can’t get fee waver Because according to the government my parents make too much for me to have one When in reality My family barely survives on a paycheck. It’s getting harder and harder to survive on that paycheck Because presently speaking It’s getting harder and harder to pay to keep on living. And because I don’t have a job yet, My parents are still forced to pay for me to keep on living. I’m stressed that I’m not going to have a tomorrow I’m stressed that I’m not going to go to a college to pay college expenses for I’m stressed that this fear is going to keep controlling my life! But… I can’t let that happen… I can’t let this fear run my life. ‘Cause sooner or later its going to run it down tot eh ground and I won’t be able to recover from that I can’t let this fear consume me, Because I’ll never find a way out. I fear something… I don’t fear eight hairy legged creatures crawling into my mouth at night, I don’t fear monsters eating me alive while I’m trying to get something to drink. Nor do I fear my dad yelling at me. I fear of tomorrow. I can’t focus on where I’m going to be at next year when today is all foggy with no sign of light.
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