Stereotypes~ A poemJust because I'm Blonde,More Like This
Doesn't mean I'm dumb,
Just because I'm angry,
Doesn't mean I believe in Islam
Just because I'm Christian,
Doesn't mean I will preach,
Just because I'm Asian,
Doesn't mean I will teach
Just because I'm Jewish,
Doesn't mean that I'm greedy,
Just because I'm *black,
Doesn't mean I am needy
Just because I'm human,
Doesn't make me bad,
Just because your different,
Doesn't make me sad
*I am so terribly sorry for using that word! I know it can be offensive, and I promise that I wasn't trying to be offensive with it! I really wanted to put African-American, but unfortunately I felt that would too long! I'm so sorry!
Author's Note: I'm sorry for anybody who gets offended by this poem! I really don't want to offend anybody! So I'm really sorry if anybody does get offended.
At a DistanceAt a DistanceMore Like This
I keep myself far away
So that I may enjoy my Day
Ignoring men’s endless scars
So that I can go drink at the bars.
But why, isn’t isolation the bane
That will drive most insane?
Not for me, what do they care
If I go bald or pull out my hair?
At a distance I’ll stay so I’ll be at peace
I don’t want to mourn or be on someone’s emotional leash
Why? Simply because I’m human, why all the fuss?
You never cared about my work so I’m not going to cuss
Over you, him, her, not over any folk
So don’t lump me in the same bowl of yolk
As you people, didn’t you know?
That I’m not going to be a part of your show.
If that hurts you, then have fun with that.
Now whine and cry as I play with my cat
Mental Disorder Discrimination"You said you've got depression?More Like This
No you don't, you attention seeker.
You're just an average teenager with the perfect life
Desperately looking for sympathy."
Stop crying, you coward.
You're just a childish "scaredy-cat".
Blaming your problems on a mental disorder
That doesn't even exist."
"So you're schizophrenic?
Grow the hell up, and stop acting like a child
You're too old for imaginary friends
You callow, juvenile, little twit."
But if we're attention seekers,
Why do we try so hard to hide our feelings from the world?
Why do we isolate ourselves in our rooms,
Desperately hiding the cuts on our wrists
Trying our best to live a normal life?
And if we're simply "scaredy-cats",
Why is our fear so vividly intense?
Unlike simple fear, our anxiety will stick with us forever
A severe long-lasting feeling of powerful panic.
A feeling from which we'll never be free.
Suddenly we're childish for having a mental disorder?
Schizophrenia is not something we can control.
Your Poetry Sucks.Poetic verse does not sleep contently within your bones.More Like This
You are not made of Shakespearean sonnets.
Metaphors do not cling to your teeth like snowdrops,
and similes do not lurk like assassins behind those false psychic eyes.
Your veins bleed nothing but red.
And your whispers,
they will never leave galaxies
along the length of spines.
So, Dear Heart,
you can take your stars,
your full moon romances,
the many, desperate love letters,
the gag-worthy cliches-
and eat them.
Element.He releases the child and the beastMore Like This
All at once
and I want to be neither.
Because they are dark and have no eyes
only fangs and compulsion
I've always wanted to go M.A.D
I figured it was the way
But it was just the door to a hallway of doors
with no description
I met him there
And we danced in circles but
I was the only one spinning...
I was never sure
I never wanted certainty
Of you, of me
I just wanted what I had
In our first collision
I had never felt so good and numb
And you made it okay,
for my demons to play on your
I'd never been so comfortable in my life.
Hidden and naked and free.
The culmination of years of dreaming hopelessly,
Dancing on flames that merely singed the dirt of the deed-
I awake to the sight of cooling coals
a night well spent in a capsule
A smoulder of unfamiliarity
wafts the air and reminds me that
I still thirst.
The Five Phases4/10/08More Like This
The Five Phases
The sun is melting behind the
My tears fall to the black earth.
How long has it been?
I recall the precise time I heard.
I felt the wind was knocked out
of my lungs.
The phone dropped from
my hands as my stomach
violently coiled too tight, and
my chest was gripped as if by a vice.
I fall to my knees in front of your
headstone and cover my face.
The clouds are forming all around
and the lighting flashes without a sound.
Memories boil from a night illuminated
by headlights and the color of blood.
At first I could not accept the
stark reality of a future without you.
Denial put its arm around me and
I clung for dear life.
Now the rain has decided to
add to my flowing tears and
I bellow an anguished scream to the chaotic sky.
Anger coursed through my veins
when I knew you would not pull through.
My angel had broken wings that
would not mend...
How I wished it was me on that
death bed...I would give anything
to take your pain and make it
Saying Goodbye to Farewells3/29/08More Like This
Saying Goodbye to Farewells
The early morning was crisp and solemn.
Sun beams trickled through
the wind blown, naked trees.
White snow fell lightly on the
"I will not say goodbye, I refuse,"
she said through bitter tears.
"I will not beg you to stay,
it's not my way."
He searched for the right words
to ease her anguish.
How could he explain this course
and divorce their bond so clean?
Her breaths were short and fast
as he embraced her tightly.
She did not resist, but held on
as though she would fall from
The train billowed its last whistle
and the steam spiraled into
the white sky.
"Remember me fondly," was
all he said.
He lifted her soft chin and looked
deep into her for just a flash.
Their past seemed on a path to
this very moment.
She looked away as he turned to
board the train that would take
him away forever.
The snowflakes drifted down and
melted her resentment,
cleared her thoughts,
and kept her sane.
Memories prodded and nudged
as she was
The Kid in the Suit (A Cyber-Fairy-tale)Despite what we may have been told, we do not actually know all that there is to be known about the surface of our planet, or the ways in which it truly functions. Our orbital satellites with their 'Advanced' global mapping systems may fool us into the belief that there is nowhere on this Earth that our eyes cannot reach.More Like This
But this is untrue. There are places in the world, deep places, dark places, places, long erased from the minds of men and some that men have never known at all. Whole continents have arisen from and then sunk back down into the blackest depths of the ocean, a place where our understanding is far surpassed by our understanding of the surface of the moon. The lost city of Atlantis and the continent of Lemuria, the icy wastes of North-most Ultima Thule remain now only as mythological whispers upon the lips of history. But it is unwise to think in such a way. In years past, when it was common knowledge that the earth was flat and was orbited by the sun, who could have pr
Don'tDon't look at itMore Like This
Don't say you don't care,
Then turn and stare.
Don't grin and say
That everything's okay,
Then turn, and laugh to your friends.
Don't preach 'equality'
Just to sell your polity.
Don't smile in my face
Then look away with distaste.
Don't comfort me
And then with blaspheme
Break my faith like 'oh my God!'
Don't say 'forget the hate'
When you're its 'best mate'.
Don't talk so formal
When you know I'm not normal.
Don't call me your friend
And then pretend,
You don't mind standing beside me.
Don't think I don't know,
When you put on a show.
Don't assume I'm a fool,
And use me to look cool.
Don't lie and hide,
Because it hurts more to find
A smile that isn't real.
Moonlit NocturneThere was blood on my hands when I played the piano for you that day.More Like This
It was the same street piano on the corner of the park that we used to play in, outracing the butterflies that gathered around the roses that grew there. We used to pretend we could fly like them, dancing from petal to petal, free from the world's cruelties. So happy. So naive.
A skid of a wheel had changed all that.
That day, your butterfly wings had been torn out of their sockets. They joined a long list that had been stuffed into jars over the centuries, to be ogled over by Death, the sadistic collector who never failed when it was our turn to submit. You were captured too early, too soon, but there was nothing I could do. I was on the piano, playing your nocturne, when you crossed the busy road. Blood sprayed, horns screamed and I turned to see you flung over a windscreen, unmoving.
There was a funeral, of course. There were tears, but none slid down my face that day.
I saved it for the piano.
You should have see
No AtlantisBeneath the mossy bones of the ocean deepMore Like This
Great spires of stone stretch their fingers high
While weaving angels wrap each rocky keep
And strands of strangling seaweed scratch the sky.
Descending deeper in the waiting dark,
Where sea-bound corpses hold a hollowed hall
And gnashing teeth trace their bloody mark,
The rotting planks of piracy that fall.
What mortal man whose breath could sway this land?
What lung could draw in words to speak its part?
The cruel soul of the sea won't spare his hand
To those who've earned his wrath with silent start.
Can souls find sleep in such a strangled thrall,
Where the waves find rest and stop their ceaseless crawl?
Where the waves find rest and stop their ceaseless crawl,
Raking salty claws in sandy shores,
A vain and panicked grasp before they fall;
The home of homespun hypocrites and whores.
The moon reflects in heartless pantomime
A silver orb of glowing innocence
That mocks them as they're punished
The Misty MountainA swordsmen, dressed in his once stunning black kimono, was now tattered and blood stained. He looked up at the mist covered mountains before him. Sadness fell over him. He shifted the pack draped over his back and walked on.More Like This
Mist began to gently swirl down over the cracked peeks of the mountain and eventually fell into deep black chasms that laid deep below the swordsmen’s feet.
Drops of warm water dripped from the deep green leaves of tall dark trees. They stood high above him, ignoring his presence as if he was just an ant crawling over the decayed leaves. As the swordsmen wandered through mountain, he followed a long forgotten path lined with aging stones and rotting bamboo. Small mice scampered about ahead of him, hiding among the leaf litter when he became too close. The swordsmen stepped onto one of the many broken flat rocks and slipped on the wet moss that covered it. He fell onto his side, cringing at the pain that crawled it’s way up his body.
The swordsmen sat u
Phantoms Of Another UniverseLook.More Like This
I'll tell it like it was.
Static clung to the air
like ornaments on a Christmas tree
and we were graced with the odd arced lightning.
Oh, it was cold.
I remember not seeing,
my fingers frozen off as
feeling receded from them
like waves on a beach.
how could I even be sure
the forgotten memory of a sunset
lay imprinted on my brain,
and its absence made the night
emptier than ever.
we waited for the moon to rise,
for the clouds to shift,
for the e-lec-tri-ci-ty to stop
(like lost travelers stumbling
in the desert waiting for an
oasis mirage to shatter their
we waited, questioning our existence,
questioning this formation of
questioning the light that remained
(like questioning "how in the world did
I lose that!" and it turns out you hadn't
you'd been waving it, flailing it, even,
(incredulously) in your hand)
and one year later,
one eternity l
It hurtIt hurt you know,More Like This
Falling for you.
I felt very bump and bang,
Every bruise and break.
I tried to hold on,
I tried to slow down,
I tried to stop.
But it was inevitable.
Gravity was too much,
It kept pulling me down
And when I landed,
When I hit the ground
At your feet
I could barely breathe.
It was too much
For anyone to handle
Let alone me.
But I watched you reach down,
And felt you pick me up.
You gathered together
All my broken pieces
And worked for days
Making me whole again.
It took time
But I finally realised
That for me to fall down to you
Meant that you
Had fallen too.
So once I was rebuilt
I searched for your missing pieces.
I found your hand
That made strings
I found your lungs,
Which turned air
Into a caress.
And I found your eyes,
Their blue oceans
But I couldn't find your heart.
Not straight away.
And I'm still looking,
But I can't see you anymore.
Because I know
That I am getting closer to your heart.
But it makes me wond
SeptemberThe summer was so hotMore Like This
the dogs stuck to the sidewalks
with the newspapers
and the black metal cans
everyone left waiting on the curb.
You could smell it
in the glass pitchers
on table tops,
and the sheets that never
dried on the clothes lines;
the canvas beach bags
mothers dragged wearily
across the sand
and the ice cream trucks
melting across the highways.
Children felt it open
up the windows at night
and find a corner
of the bed to smother,
while fathers baited it on hooks
or mowed it down
in flat, dry stripes
as if begging each other
And the crickets just hummed
beneath the corn silk
and the dry mouth
daring the cats to play
hide and seek -
searching for September.
Soft SpeakingMore Like This
I wake up in my bed.
The pillow behind my head
is soft and cool to the touch
as I stare at the ceiling above me.
The sandy texture of the ceiling
comforts me as I try to forget
about the world.
I stand up with great ease
and walk to the window.
I look outside,
and see the sun is still out.
The clouds have greyed
the world ever so slightly.
I see the tops of the trees.
They sway so slightly in the wind.
Have I woken up from a nightmare,
Or have I entered another dream?
NocturneMore Like This
At afterglow I walk into
cafes with momentarily golden glass
Tonight I scratch out a moon
to brighten up this blackbird sky
This evening I rummage for
Lost and foundI used to fall for boys who were lost,More Like This
wandering aimlessly between the mountain-folds of reality.
nomads, they spent the days counting stars and the nights
looking for the sun. their eyes roamed and their hands travelled,
staying in my heart for days or weeks, before continuing to
search for the way to their various destinations,
to the clouds or to the ground
leaving me in place, in a city I could traverse with my eyes
Until I met a boy who was found,
had the universe tattooed on the back of his hand.
he read me like a survey map, knew his way around
my tangled forest of a mind, could trace paths through
my bramble eyes and he could follow the blue
rivers of my veins, would not fall into the railway
tracks scissored across my elbows,
but he was a city I could not traverse with my eyes
I went from being found to being lost,
swimming in his mouth unaware of which way was up
which way was down and I pitched my tent in his heart
one night when he was telling me the way to rome
Pretty boys aren't so pretty at nightin the nights when I cannot find sleep,More Like This
when dreams elude me,
you whisper meaningless things into the
crook of my neck, stealing glances at my
collarbone, robbing the room of silence
you tell me
“You have the constellations in your eyes
The moon in your mouth”
and you thieve my fingers as your own,
bending and curling them around yours
you tell me
“Don’t write poetry about me,
Don’t write me in as the monster of your nightmares”
in the nights when I cannot close my eyes
for fear of the shadows lurking between us and
the floor, between your teeth
you breathe heavily, taking my oxygen and leaving
me breathless, panicking in the dark between
satin sheets and in your easy dreaming
you tell me
“You are the product of your genetics
Your father is stowed within your skull,
Within your fist”
and my lucid memories
are the only thing you do not steal
you tell me
“I am yours and you
but the emphasis feels
uneven, and I am not
Friends, without benefitswe are not friends,More Like This
friends don’t share
one heart, one mouth.
and friends walk in parallel lines,
brushing knuckles not
hipbones and I keep wishing
on the shooting stars
splintering in your eyes for us to be
friends but each time you sigh into my shoulder
how you need this, how you need
me, somehow it almost seems enough,
it almost seems like we are more
than friends but darling -
we are not friends, not even close
and we are not more or
less we just
7. ReincarnationWhen I die, rememberMore Like This
the pines, our love is evergreen
and while my heart will rot,
your memory of it roaring against your ear
When I die, I will come back
as a bluebottle fly, humming a
lullaby in the nights you cannot find sleep
just like my breathing once did, and I will
crash into your windows over and over,
pounding out ‘I love you’ in morse code,
telling you to open the windows and
breathe easy, I am here.
When I die, I will linger in the gaps
between your fingers, those canyons
you once thought only I could bridge,
but I will camp in those gorges and wait
for my camp-fire to be extinguished by another
man’s hands slotting into place.
When I die, and when you find a new love,
I will be the pen at hand when he
writes you love-letters, scrawling out
‘I’m happy for you’ between the lines,
carving my smile into every curve of your name
with his when you sign the marriage contract,
When I die, I will fade from your life,
Drawing ParallelsMore Like This
Drawing parallels the Nature within,
Linking to the outside with discipline,
On sunny morn a sojourn twixt these Oaks,
Masters of conscientious artful strokes,
Touching a sense of purpose too long-lost,
Supposing as it does, whence two paths crossed,
Had we heard the silent dream speak with art,
With Soul and waldeinsamkeit to take heart,
A single 'voice' with dual purpose unites,-
The source drawing a flow neath Oaken Knights,
Stems socio-ticks never to cross again,
Today such hurt pleasingly on the wane.
She the Universal yearns our presence,
Faith in life lives truly of such essence,
Walking through the spray of Her sunrise scent,
Inhale Her embrace for in this event,
We're seduced within serenity pure,
Echo her bare footsteps, nestle the cure,
Through the trees behind Nature's Summer veil,
Our glance cast forth leading equal prevail,
Bring me Her horizon and sunset kiss,
Of celestial charm dancing cloud bliss,
Such desire borders the skin
A Poem For Terrible PeopleI am easily twenty pounds overweight,More Like This
and my soul is a couple hundred under.
Everyone else has this heavy thing
that sits in their stomach and tells them
that they’re alive. I think the only reason
why mine hasn’t floated out my ear
yet is because my throat is blocked
by a coal of self hate. Maybe that is
the thumping I hear, my spirit
screaming. I always thought
it was my heart beat.
I can’t tell you why I am here,
and I can’t begin to explain who I am
because I know I’ll start to cry,
and I am trying to save up my tears
for something that’s socially appropriate
to cry over. Like a mass murder
or uplifting trending video on facebook; not,
definitely not because your succulents
aren’t arranged in the way
you wanted them to be.
I’m an ametur gardener
buried half alive in my own
half hearted attempts at having some
effect on this world. My arm
reaches out and paints my own
plot pot with a chevron design
in Robin’s egg blue.
God, I wis
PreferI prefer her naked,More Like This
in a not so sexual
almost always sexual
way and when she
lays on my bed after
I make her come,
she stares up at not
and I know
I made her
and that’s enough
I want to go home
but I’m still deciding
where that is.
She wants to go anywhere
as long as it is not where
she’s been before.
I frown and collect her
pages upon pages
of poetry from floor;
she moans for me
to come back to bed.
She gets along with my cat
and if that’s not true love
I don’t know what is.
I prefer her with her back
to me, in a not so vulnerable,
almost entirely vulnerable way.
I want to fuck her symmetry.
Her spine is something an artist
created when he wasn’t looking;
her ribs are like the ocean
and I want to die
in the undertow
like a scared child.
I am a scared child,
and she is