Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
g clair Sep 2013
Ginger ale, coke, lemon and lime
Don’t have a watch, can't tell you the time
Iced Coffee with milk, no sugar for me.
Don’t care for sweeteners, prefer caffeine-free
used to drink Yoohoo, but can't seem to hold it
Once owned a Ford Falcon, but somebody stole it

My father is cool, he trims up the hedges
Mom's kind of smooth, but rough 'round the edges
Once found a seashell, put it to my ear
all I heard was a-guzzlin' beer
guzzling beer, not what I expected
had me a Mexican, but soon he defected

Looked for him everywhere,thought he was nappin'
But he'd hit the pavement, hirotchees were slappin'
Somebody told me he's back in Borrero
fryin' up churros in a fancy sombrero
next time i move, gonna keep it professional
hire a crew, and avoid the confessional

Dined on raw fish with a *****, beguiled
'Till he told me he'd die before having my child
Excuse me, I told him, I think you're mistaken
I'd rather have triplets by **** Clay Aiken
Been burned before,but I'm still kind of shocky
Swallowed my pride and swore off the Saki

Low and behold, a dude who says "Schmat-zah"
unorthodox fella, who can't stomach mat-zo
Head full of curls nice Hebrew diction
believes in his heart aliens are nonfiction.
He ain’t into me, prefers to be single
Made sure my milk and his meat didn't mingle

Stopped into Quick-chek to get me a bite
met up with Manny who put up a fight
mountain of misery, terrible liar
asked for a bike and he gave me a tire
Flattened but patched my heart isn't aching
I think it's a sign the thing was worth breaking

The back roads to Red Bank are bumpy and narrow
******* the bones but good for the marrow
I looked at the clouds, shook out the lining
can't see the forest for all of my pining.
Ironic that shells echo the sea
the old man batters 'em mercilessly

Mets beat the Yankees,what can I say?
Wanted for nothing, nothing got in my way
Got up to stretch, fell through the bleacher
and into the arms of a snake oil preacher.
Tinctures and ointments and warming love salve
can't erase hurt and the memories I have

Heard it before, how time is medicinal
But for healing the heart the price is additional
Beat for beat and measure for measure
grapes of gall and fermenting displeasure
tasted enough to know this can't be real
while mashing my heart in the search engine wheel

In taking that road to that carn-evil ground
for one lonely toad on the hairy-go-round,
something was lost in the folly and fun
as I'm counting the cost for all that I've done
I reach for forgiveness and snatched from the ride
am taken to places where nothing can hide

in the light of the One who is no longer mad
better than anything, more fun than sad
eternally loved, as it was from the start
the past is forgiven, all's well with my heart
as for my heroes, and the ***** I've pained
Nothing is lost and everything gained

Ginger ale, coke, lemon and lime
I've got a watch, won't give you the time
rob Sep 2014
yoohoo
rich in calcium
mom's love it
and i can't get enough of it
yoohoo
how you make me smile when i feel sad
never fail to make me glad
thank you yoohoo.
kinda how i feel about you too
ptrck
Freddy S Zalta Jan 2015
She walked up the stairs, swiped her metro card and made her way up the stairs to the platform. As she walked towards the front end so she could get on the second car of this F train headed to Manhattan, she felt the cold winter wind snap at her. Pulled up her collar and wrapped her arms around herself bracing for the cold.

She was wearing blue jeans with boots over them – a small black ski-jacket with a red scarf. Her hair, shoulder length blonde was covered by a knit cap, also black.

It was the 5th or 6th month of her working at the Union Square Barnes and Noble. She still wasn't even sure what her role was there, her title was “Music Manager” yet there were two other “Music Managers” there as well. She enjoyed working there because she loved to see so many people enjoying the books, music and the other stuff that they sold there. She also loved to sit during her breaks and read. She loved to read anything that was written around the 1920’s. F. Scott Fitzgerald, Ernest Hemingway, Gertrude Stein, T.S. Eliot, Edith Wharton, and so many more.

She had always felt “different” from her peers and this caused her to find herself alone some nights watching TV or forcing herself to write on her blog.

Julia was 26 years old and had graduated from Kingsborough College 4 years earlier. She had thought about graduate school but then realized that she really wasn't interested in any specific degree or even future.

She had been diagnosed with depression back when she was 16 years old. She had never tried to **** herself nor hurt herself but would spend too much time in her room and away from any social life.

When she was 18 and a freshman at college she fell in love with Mitchell, a senior with four different girlfriends and a future as a politician. When she found out about one of his other girlfriends she broke up with him. It was a couple of nights later that she found out about the others while browsing through Facebook. The fact that she had been so blind and naive to not even catch any clue that he was actually dating 3 other girls, hurt more then the loss of having him around. She was hurt and she closed herself off from any social life after that.

“It wasn't the fact that he was with the other girls, it was the fact that I was stupid enough to fall for someone like that. Thank God we never had *** – that would have really put me under.” She had told this to her therapist and the therapist only cared about asking her. “Why didn't you have ***?” She felt creeped out and stopped seeing him.

Her friends tried to bring her out of her slump but it was way above their ability. Love can heal all things but some wounds can only be soothed not healed.

The darkness in her room followed her  wherever she went.  It wasn’t until her 26th Birthday when she decided to go to see a different psychiatrist, a female Doctor this time. Towards the end of her first appointment it was suggested that she should begin taking medication. She felt she could help herself without taking any medication.
“When you feel you want to try them out you just let me know. We would begin with a very low dose…”

She saw the train in the distance approaching in its snail like pace. The wind, the cold and the clouds all conspiring to make it feel as if the train is at a standstill just two blocks or so away. Finally the train crawled in and came to a stop; the sound of the doors opening, the electronic ding-**** and the voice – “next stop Avenue N, stand clear of the closing doors.”

She finds a seat by the window of a two-seater row. She likes to look through the window and watch as the different scenes come into view and just as quickly disappear. It reminds her that her’s is not the only world that exists. That the world does not truly revolve around her. She watches as the train rolls along McDonald Avenue; school van picks up children, two people are sitting eating breakfast on a second floor apartment directly across from the train. She concocts different ideas of what they are conversing about – are they expressing happiness and love or are they scared and feeling alone?

She looks inside and sees an older man reading a hard cover religious book, perhaps the Talmud or something? Two seats to the left of him is a Haitian woman speaking on her cellphone in Creole – really loudly. He looks towards her and nods his head in disapproval. Down the way a large man sits eating with his jacket open revealing his sizable girth, as if in pride? he is downing a bagel and licking the cream cheese to avoiding it from spilling over. He has a Yoohoo chocolate drink in between his legs and is in some sort of comatose gorging ecstasy. A lady is applying makeup to her cheeks and when the train stops at Avenue N she draws her eyeliner pencil under her eyes – framing her Asian eyes with the imperfect blue she decided to use.

Avenue N and the doors open to a black man wearing a yarmulke and looking Jewish but for the color of his skin, in these parts at least. He is of Ethiopian descent and is Orthodox – she knows this because she once heard him speaking to another passenger on the train. A fifty-ish lady walks on and is, of course, on her phone giving orders to one of her children, it seems. Julia looks away and checks her phone – no alerts, no emails, no missed calls. “Next stop Bay Parkway.”

Across from her on the other side of the train, she can see the Verrazano Bridge and outside her window she can see thousands of graves lined up. She thinks about their lives – mothers, fathers – they were all once babies who needed to be fed, dressed and changed.

“Snap out of it! She tells herself.” She stood up as if to wash crumbs off of her clothing – shook a bit and sat back down again. She would not, could not allow the darkness to seep back in again. It always began with a thought…since she finally gave in and had been on meds for a little over a month, the fog had begun to lift a bit. A bit. The “low dose” had been doubled since her first week and now she began to “See a little clearer, is that one of the benefits?”
“You are seeing more clear because you are not running as fast as you used to. You are slowing down and able to live at a healthy pace. So now the colors you once defined as green, yellow and blue have a deeper meaning to you, am I right?”
“Yes, its as if I can focus now>”

She looked out the window, looked back into her bag and took her book out. “The Corrections,” she had yet to read it but loved the title. In her mind she had pictured it as someone in the middle of their life who decides to make “Corrections.” She was afraid to begin reading it because she knew it wasn’t about that, specifically, and preferred the definition in her head.

“I am making corrections these days.” She thought to herself.
The fact that she decided it was time for her to take the leap and swallow a pill once a day was proof in itself. “I want to be the best I can be, to enjoy life…” Lately she has been having vivid dreams – only to wake up, try to remember only to forget quickly.

The train goes underground and where once she would get anxious she now welcomed it as if an embrace.

“Too many stops to go until I find my way…” She heard a voice inside of her say, or sing? Or was that the lady behind her?

“Too many corrections to make within myself so I can even begin to find my way anywhere.” She thinks to herself as if answering someone.

“Corrections…yes…can it be as simple as that? Look within myself and accept what is wrong and right and make some corrections?”

She walked off the train at 14th Street and found her way upstairs and out onto 6th Avenue. She walked east towards Union Square and felt the cold air hitting her face – feeling like a pale of freezing water in the August heat.

She feels a bit more at ease and knows that there is a change happening and it could be from that small pill. A sense of hope, not full blown hope but a ray and that is more than she has felt in a long time.

She looks across Union Square and sees the celebrations of everyday life on display. Men painted in silver and gold, a clown dancing or riding in a small child’s bicycle, chess players lined up and waiting for challengers. People walking quickly chasing time trying to catch up or outrun it. Cold wind blowing pieces of paper high up – churning around and around.

She looks up, crosses the small street, smiles at the guard, opens the door and walks inside.

italicThere are countless stories of people in this world chasing memories, dreams or hopes that were once so vibrant – now laying dormant on the side of empty streets. Ghost towns where youth and optimism were once at play in the streets where dreams were erected only to fall in a lost battle against the ultimate thief – time. Julie turned out to be one of the happy stories in this world…she ended up meeting her cousin at the store that same day. He was with a friend of his named David – he smiled and she smiled back. Sometimes good things do happen and they happen when you least expect them to. She is still working on her corrections and has yet to even read the first page of the book.
g clair Oct 2015
Ginger ale, coke, lemon and lime
Don’t have a watch, can't tell you the time
Iced Coffee with milk, no sugar for me.
Don’t care for sweeteners, prefer caffeine-free
used to drink Yoohoo, but can't seem to hold it
Once owned a Ford Falcon, but somebody stole it

My father is cool, he trims up the hedges
Mom's kind of smooth, but rough 'round the edges
Once found a seashell, put it to my ear
all I heard was a-guzzlin' beer
guzzling beer, not what I expected
had me a Mexican, but soon he defected

Looked for him everywhere,thought he was nappin'
But he'd hit the pavement, hirotchees were slappin'
Somebody told me he's back in Borrero
fryin' up churros in a fancy sombrero
next time i move, gonna keep it professional
hire a crew, and avoid the confessional

Dined on raw fish with a *****, beguiled
'Till he told me he'd die before having my child
Excuse me, I told him, I think you're mistaken
I'd rather have triplets by **** Clay Aiken
Been burned before,but I'm still kind of shocky
Swallowed my pride and swore off the Saki

Low and behold, a dude who says "Schmat-zah"
unorthodox fella, who can't stomach mat-zo
Head full of curls nice Hebrew diction
believes in his heart aliens are nonfiction.
He ain’t into me, prefers to be single
Made sure my milk and his meat didn't mingle

Stopped into Quick-chek to get me a bite
met up with Manny who put up a fight
mountain of misery, terrible liar
asked for a bike and he gave me a tire
Flattened but patched my heart isn't aching
I think it's a sign the thing was worth breaking

The back roads to Red Bank are bumpy and narrow
******* the bones but good for the marrow
I looked at the clouds, shook out the lining
can't see the forest for all of my pining.
Ironic that shells echo the sea
the old man batters 'em mercilessly

Mets beat the Yankees,what can I say?
Wanted for nothing, nothing got in my way
Got up to stretch, fell through the bleacher
and into the arms of a snake oil preacher.
Tinctures and ointments and warming love salve
can't erase hurt and the memories I have

Heard it before, how time is medicinal
But for healing the heart the price is additional
Beat for beat and measure for measure
grapes of gall and fermenting displeasure
tasted enough to know this can't be real
while mashing my heart in the search engine wheel

In taking that road to that carn-evil ground
for one lonely toad on the hairy-go-round,
something was lost in the folly and fun
as I'm counting the cost for all that I've done
I reach for forgiveness and snatched from the ride
am taken to places where nothing can hide

in the light of the One who is no longer mad
better than anything, more fun than sad
eternally loved, as it was from the start
the past is forgiven, all's well with my heart
as for my heroes, and the ***** I've pained
Nothing is lost and everything gained

Ginger ale, coke, lemon and lime
I've gotta watch now and won't give you the time.
betterdays Dec 2013
words.
i just
love
them.
big ones,
little ones.

just love them
they are like
honey on my lips,
poprockz candy to my
brain.

they crackle and fizz:
igniting,
exciting,
vibrating,
reawakening...

synapses too quiescent;
jiggling,
wiggling,
slapping,
trappin,
thoughts....

c­aught snoozin and napping;
flip flopping
flim flam-ing
photograph
framing...

opinion only halfway dressed;
jitterbuggin,
jiving,
striving
sometimes conniving....

fighting for a voice;
half formed,
brainstormed,
uninformed,

spoken on a baited breathe,
giggle, gaggle,
gobbledegook...

given egress;
hornswoggle,
bing bang boggle,

lolloping through....
galumping,
triumphing,
tree stumping....
both
me
and
yoohoo
too!!!
zip
it,
zinger
coming
on
thru.
my
mind
a
veritable
word
zoo
where i
graze
and nibble
and
nab
a
theasuarus
or
2
.....  

words.
i just
love
them.
.
Slur pee Jun 2016
My words come out all slurred, blurred, and censored. My heart has a faulty bad juju sensor. My nerves are practicing voodoo, got me all wrapped up in hoodoo. Always asking 'how do you do?' As if you'd ask me too. My world is red, my world is blue. My vision is all kinds of skewed. Skewer me, skewer you. Skewered life 'cause it leaves us *******. Who needs to hear another boohoo? I'll kiss my own **** boo boos. Satan's calling me like 'yoohoo' I'll ignore him like you do me, all passionless and angry. I'm a dead fish in a dead sea just practicing my moaning, for when I'm see-through and lonely. Haunting the world as it's revolving, and it's kind of revolting- knowing life goes on, as you're decomposing. I'm shedding, I'm molting; these feelings of chicken skin and insects. It was really salmonella and pests, and I guess, what the point I'm really trying to get to is nothing, oh and *******.
What does it feel like?
My little sister asked
Fourteen
Beautiful
The innocent smile
Of a still naive child
Who’s never felt anything more
Than sweaty palms
In a big echoing gym
Forced to dance with an
Awkward eighth grade boy
For phys ed credit
And embarassment
What does love feel like?

Love is the awkward silences
The first time you hang out
And neither of you knowing what to say
Love is being best friends
Love is racing down back roads at night
Windows down
Music blaring
Slamming on the horn
And flashing headlights
And raising hell
Love is pulling an all nighter
To spend one last night together
Even though you have to work
At 5 am
Love is drinking Yoohoo together
Love is sending stupid videos
And care packages
Because his laughter
Is your favorite song
Love is his huge smile
He only shows you
After you tell one of your jokes
That no one else
Thinks are funny
Love is hugs
And smiles
And texts
And sniped photos
And late night phone calls
And life advice
Love is the tears
And the trust
And not wanting to be
With anyone else
Love is being impatient
Wanting to see him again
Before he even leaves
And love is knowing
Every time you’re staring at brake lights
That you’re too perfect to pass up
Probably

So I turn to my sister
Nineteen
Pretty
The watery smile
Of someone too young
To have been through so much
Who’s never known anything
Close to the perfection I seek
Only liars and cheaters
Who’ve left me broken
And empty
And I tell her
Love is
To "the one": Someday I'll have the guts to tell you what should have been said and the knowledge to know I've lost my chance
Mia Lee Mar 2016
I.

on december thirty first
two thousand and fifteen
at nine thirty two in the morning
I stopped breathing

the devil dug his cold claws
through the tender skin
of my abdomen and he wrenched

he looked me in the eyes
and he smiled
and I died
at least I wished I had

so many nights
your name floated through my mind
and I couldn’t find why

but on new years eve
two thousand fifteen
everything suddenly
made sense to me

call connor
if only to say goodbye
tell the boy you’re thankful for his time


II.

we talked about you
for all of january
about your smile and your pictures
and I was fifteen again

fifteen and sitting across
a big green table
drinking a yoohoo
and looking at you

and wondering if your lips
were as soft as your hands
and if I’d ever get to know
yours like the back of mine

i’m nineteen again

nineteen and standing across
a room full of people
holding myself together
and looking at you

and wondering if
after all of this
your hands were still
as soft as I remembered
Connor Cummings was an incredible young artist and friend from Rockaway New Jersey. Google his name if you're interested in learning what happened to him. http://instagram.com/consception if you're interested in looking at his photography.

— The End —