Describe PoetryMarathonArchiveTwentyThree here. 1101 why were his hands so warm when mine were so cold all the time? even when he held them they froze in spite of me and so I grabbed his hand anyway even though they didn't warm me up they made the cold not matter
OneOneOhTwo even though they didn't care i did and i told them i would always remember that which was not important so they could ask me about it someday when they'd forgotten and memories would hit the ground with reality and dissbeleif that happinedd could be dropped so quickly for something half as good but sticky and addictive. -franny 1103 sticky and addictive her hands grabbed at mine dragging me in a wild circle dance until we collapsed tired and worn out on the ground and we sat there laughing until our bellies hurt and then she jumped up again grabbing my hand and pulling me to my feet to begin the circle dance again her sticky popsicle juice hand in my dirt covered one not caring how dirty we were just happy to be dancing together
OneOneOhFour a wild circle dance we flew just me the wind and maybe some dreams trying to find a heart to settle in a wild flurry of forgotten and wishing and simplicity i am a whirlwind and i'm not slowing down until the speed of light of the speed of love (or gravity) makes it essential. -franny 11OhFive a wild flurry of forgotten phone numbers and poems fly through my head and I bury my face in my scarf my hands sinking deeper into my pockets yearning to find warmth there but instead they touch emptiness emptiness is that space that lacks a friendly hand to hold a hand to grab onto a hand that will stop you from drowning inside all the thoughts in your head and I have enough thoughts to build myself an olympic size pool and I've jumped in but I forget how to swim...
OneOneOhSix to find warmpth there where what was fire has turned to ice and can't be melted without the fire that is gone and so everything goes in circle ending up right where the started i'm about three eights of the way right now and wondering what's around the curve has become pointless because everything is around the curve in a circle and still i try to decide and determine and place you where i want you in time. -franny 1107 and so everything goes the leaves fall from the trees in autumn and the snow melts from the ground in spring children, too, grow older and stop playing in the mud I hate that I don't play in the mud Just because I'm fourteen almost fifteen why does that mean that I can't enjoy myself? come here - I'll tell you a secret I WANT TO PLAY IN THE MUD, TOO! I want to run out in the street with the four year olds and get it in my hair and on my clothes and you know what? I don't want to care about it I don't want to worry about being yelled at or thought to be immature I just want to enjoy the mud like I did those years ago. But... it wasn't that many years ago. So dammit, I'm going to take off my shoes and I'm going to play like I've never seen mud before.
1108 but... it wasn' that many years ago when we giggled with mischief writing letters to ourselves hidden in the walls to be found in the *future* you spoke and i listened i didn't want our friendship to stop but we drifted and you no longer call me "best friend" i found those letters thoughts of fourteen year old girls placed inside the bedroom walls we forgot our pact, remember? we were supposed to read them this year.
OneOneOhNine you spoke i listened we cried you left i talked who listened? -franny
1110 you left and i didn't say goodbye. i was miserable but you felt worse and even now i can picture the pain in your eyes as i walked away unspeaking. i was confused you knew exactly what you wanted we laughed you made me cry (but you didn't know) i'm still confused are you over it yet? we both moved on or did we? i still think of you do you ever think of me? i miss you.
one onety one oneies (1111) just shut up and admit your an asshole. because you left me far behind eating your fear. it scares me that you used my body like a violin by making it part of your own then breaking the strings off one by one. it bothers me that you tried to be all touchy feely when really you where just hiding from me. it hurt me real bad so just shut up and edmit your an asshole your friends would forgive you or maybe i'm just speeking for me.
1112 it scares me that i can walk away without looking back feeling remorse a year too late remember when i asked you if you looked at the stars? staying on the phone desribing constellations for a little while you were my dream boy but it didn't last and now i can't even call you my friend.
OneOneThirteen My little baby Cu, my little copper wires, I remember when you were young, Innocent and unsuspecting Of the evil chemistry teacher's plot. You were so brilliant, Shiny and golden, But it didn't last, the student Took 10 evil millileters Of nitric acid (NaOH) to you - and lo! No longer were you The sweet metal you once were, but a Turquiose liquid, and oh so toxic! THe students worked valiently Desperatly, trying to save your Cu atoms, Pouring mixture after deadly mixture, Heating, stirring, decanting, And after two hours of grueling work We had regained your dear little chemical makeup, But oh! you were not as you were. Little blobs of reddish metal, Powdery and dull, were all that was left of My dear Cu, my dear Copper So trusting, so loving, And I shed a tear, in vain, For my little Copper, Cu.
(who is, yes, taking a chemistry class) OneOneFourteen no longer were you a stone tossed to skip or maybe to sink or maybe to have no one see you at all you watched and pretended you weren't but i saw you and i smiled but only half way my eyes are turned sideways too watching and pretending i'm not and seeing your halfway smiles throw back six skips seven eight let's set a record or break one or just break. -franny OneOneFifteen i roar then i smile with my rosehip lips pinched together breathing out: this is who i am from my bair rib cage to my ten inch nale boots. i seeme to frighten you with my dyed hair but i saw you lightly smile just now breathing out "hush little child it's only a phaze"
OneOneSixteen pinched together like mint crushed between two fingers i could smell you through my hair even when i wanted to shut my eyes to the perfect poetry of it all. i can hold on to bliss about as easily as i can walk on water but you cup it like your lip curls around your teeth like your arms hold me inside of myself crushed. like leaves. like water pouring out of a faucet left unattended i don't know what to do, but i know that poetry holds on to bliss like a sieve holds onto champagne.
one one one seven (you know who this poem is for.) i don't know what to do, but i know after this the rainn will come and wash away the dryed blood. all i ask of you is to remember old eurgers will continue, perhaphs forever. eurges don't matter. actions do. continue on the surch for yourself. everything will work out fine i know from my and others pasts every goddess falls somtime along their path to themself.
1118 every goddess falls sometime and I guess that rock in the path was just begging to be tripped on so you took it at a run and weren't you surprised when you stumbled? I always thought you were like the old oak tree in my backyard that wouldn't ever fall over but now, while I'm looking at you sitting on the ground contemplating how to get back on your feet I look out the back window at that old tree and at the crack in it that a bolt of lightening left last summer and silently realize that nothing is permanent
1119 i wrote a different one to go here, but found it way too depressing I smile as I watch the satrs, The shinning balls of gas, Far far away. A shooting star breifly lights up the sky, Before falling into the unknow. I realise it marks the end of a star's life. That last moment of beauty, And then gone. Oh well. Every goddess falls sometime. ~erynne 1120 do i seem hostile? ask yourself why. can you spare a little time for me? i don't mean to leave things bad the way they are. I wanted to say more but I got up and conviniently forgot to come back. there's always tomorrow, right? oh well. I forgot that some things never change and those i fear never leave oh well. famous last words. watch me as I utter my famous last words. ...oh well... -jessica 1121 kids push and shove there way through those too small walls trying to starve paint and bully their way into themself. welcome to high school this is just the way they are. you'll either be punched pushed or starved into whoever Sally Jill or Ted dream you to be. it's going to be a sad sad world and when they hear that i'm gay. they will try to make me be a lonly baled girl crying in the corrner. good thing that it won't work because hunny; i'm writing my own poetry now.
OneOneTwentyTwo roll over cummings, heads up Silverstein, I'm writing my own poetry now, and the world's gonna rock with the reverb. move over Frost and Rosetti give us some elbow room PoetryMarathonians are taking the world by storm, and we'll tell you what it's all about. give us all some elbow room, 'cause there's a lot us and we've got a lot to say, so if Wordworth or any other dead guy like him wants to prose on, he's just gonna have to shut up! 'Cause the unschooler writers are gonna rock the damn world around its axis so don't get in our way!
OneOneTwentyThree "Speaking of Unschooler Poetry...." killingjarX: nastyyyyy kittie.... THIEF!.... stealing my precioussss.... GOLLUM GOLLUM killingjarX: Fried and dipped in a creamy broth... DanBug12: roasted with pepperssssss..... killingjarX: spiced and melted with cream... killingjarX: gooooolllllluummmmm! DanBug12: charbroiled with limesssssss *laughs at the thought* killingjarX: A cocktail delight! killingjarX: A bountiful sight! killingjarX: So frothy and light! DanBug12: *laughs* shes a poet and she didn't know it killingjarX: She's a poet and she didn't blow it! DanBug12: or did she? killingjarX: Talking about me? DanBug12: or maybe the cree? killingjarX: Be all you can be! killingjarX: In the aaaarrrrmmmy killingjarX: this is getting kind of smarmy killingjarX: and it's a load of blarny DanBug12: so blow rasbarrys at the army killingjarX: let's always speak in rhyme, because this is the best time killingjarX: and better than being a mime DanBug12: they always spew such brine! killingjarX: i don't know what to say, so i'll just whine DanBug12: and I'll just smile and look sublime killingjarX: you're full of slime!! DanBug12: but your covered in grime! killingjarX: my grime is worth a dime! DanBug12: but you couldn't toss it in a straight line! killingjarX: On foul waters do you dine!! DanBug12: the brownest rocks you do mine! DanBug12: *pokes you* your turn, my dear killingjarX: lemme get my brain in gear! DanBug12: I shall do so. and I should also point out that this should be put on wiki, just because :-P killingjarX: it'll start a great, gossipy buzz! DanBug12: a big ball of fuzz killingjarX: fuzzy unschooler lo-ove! DanBug12: that fits like a glove! killingjarX: oh, enough! DanBug12: earmuff? killingjarX: (I'm putting this one poetry marathon) DanBug12: *grins* radness killingjarX: no! badness! DanBug12: and much gladness!
OneOneTwentyFour And I'll just smile and look sublime, when you appear from wherever you were. And looking sublime will, of course, be the answer to everything, because I haven't thought about what I'll do if it isn't. The sky is laughing at me today, peeping in the window in all it's blustering blueness, and telling me I'm such a fool (as though I didn't already know it). I've always gone chasing after what I want, but then when I get it, I'm terrified, holding the precious, precious in my hands, shaking. Did I really want it? Asking, what now? ~Becky~ 1125 peeping in the window in all it's blustering blueness rainbow colors sweeping through is that classical music i hear? or is it that i over romanticize Everything... dragons crawling up my ankles a totem pole on my wrist splashes of orange colored things just my devices to be different but does it work? would you really see me differently dragonless, colorless would i seem "normal" than? i crave for moments when i catch your eye and we laugh at our own inside jokes but who said i even knew who you were? lines in the sand don't answer my questions any longer and i'm on a merry go 'round of feeling but who ever said life was simple?
OneOneTwoSix when i catch your eye i'm first to look away what i see is what i want to see and so it scares me because most of me doesn't really want it most of me wishes i'd gotten up and left instead of staying and watching you dance and wishing it was me because to dance is to fly and to fly is to be free and to be free is me when i really am. -franny oneonetwosix because to dance is to touch the elements to brush the sky with poised fingers and sweep the air into wind. to feel the deep vibrating beat of the huge warehouse speaker right next to your ear and when sitting, feel the ground rumble crazy melodic. not able to contain every feeling in one moment i savor the vanilla flavored smoke curling around your shoulder as the smoke curls around us both and loving to be alive with you tonight. sarah OneOneTwoSeven alive with you tonight or alive and you're alive and i'm with you in the sense that we could both be looking at the same moon same stars at the same time and if i'm looking at my hand and you're looking at yours it's as close as we'll get to holding hands tonight and even though there's rivers between us i can hear your breath behind me i won't turn around does that make it real? -franny OneOneTwoEight make it real you know all this poetry. the way we can describe the way love is supposed to look and maybe if we write enough it'll all come true. i'm so tired of poetry. but i guess i have to have faith in the system or something because here i am and here you are the poem unfolds and that, at least, is real.
1129 i'm so tired of poetry. my feelings look all dryed up like unsent roses from old lovers, all crunchy and withered away. i'm sick of him roaling his eyes at my words then squinting away when it gets too hard for him to read. i'm sick and tired of there voices going gee. you sound angry .. naw really ya think every goddess has a right to sing there name
1130 (the numbers got screwed up at 1018. It should be up a hundred more. It doesn't really matter, but I'm gonna set it straight cause I can! *grins*) Every goddess has a right to cry. Every goddess has a right to wear old sloppy gray pajama pants, and not wash her face in the morning. Every goddess has a right to make monkey faces in the mirror, and sing along to cheesy songs on the radio, while driving on the highway that seems to go on and on, endlessly. Through corn fields and little towns, and the goddess doesn't know she's immortal, she doesn't know that she's beautiful and will live forever. She looks in the rear view mirror at the circles under her eyes, and thinks "Another hard night, and I just look more tired every day." Another town rolls by, just like the last one, blue sky and grain elevators, a boy in a red pickup at the stoplight who stares at her, and she thinks it must be because she didn't put on makeup today, and she looks as dry and gray as the dirt road. Every goddess has a right to her own self-worth. She sees a billboard along the roadside, plastic-smooth woman, half-naked body posing rigidly for the passers by, her painted eyes cold and haunted. The goddess doesn't even know what the woman's body is selling, it could be anything, cigarettes or life insurance... it doesn't seem to matter. And the goddess feels empty, as though it's her body up there, cold and naked and selling something. And something inside her hurts suddenly, but she just shakes her head and goes back to watching the road. Every goddess has a right to be angry. She thinks about all the things she's never had, and always wanted. All the things she's always had but never wanted. She thinks about love as the stars come out, and sometimes love seems to be the only thing that's holding her together, whether it's missing, or whether it's right under her nose. Sometimes she thinks her life would be better spent if someone else lived it for her. Sometimes she thinks she'd be happy if she just had you. Every goddess has a right to dream. Every goddess has a right to love. Every goddess has a right to wake up one morning and finally realize who she is after all this long, hard time. This goddess is you. ~Becky~ 1131 Every goddess has a right to love even if you, I guess, although I'm not sure if you've got a right to love people or to have people love you. I think you want both. watching the scenery go by in our own personal worlds you and I have walked - sometimes together sometimes not, but maybe I've seen you closer and farther than most people, and maybe that's why I know you so well. with both a microscope and a telescope.
OneOneThreeTwo you want both and yet to remain the same as you've made up your mind to do always and forever you need to take your choices and decide. -franny OneOneThreeThree take your breath in poignant because every sigh tells a story. every wisp of smoke escaping past your eyebrows explains why you are here and feel immortal. standing on the warm cement of the fire ring on huntington beach you could scream and you know they'd all watch with a smile because they've been there too, when you need something to hang onto and so you cling to the lighter like it'll warm your whole body and you won't let go of the clove, hoping it'll soothe away the charring insides of the fireplaces you've been sleeping in. so tired lately because he drove into my life and turned it all into bob dylan lyrics so now i stay awake to watch the way the moon and sun coexist at those special hours in the morning exhausted, because then i have to document it all. in a world with too many people i refuse to go to bed without your voice in my ear. when you laugh you cough and my lips crave yours/smoke/ocean/moon/sleep but i can't go to bed. every yawn holds another story and so i doze, 6am, my head against the seatbelt as the world turns into something out of a tom waits cd trucks, pink clouds, freeway rolls out almost as soft as a pillow and i think about addictions and i think about you and i think that it's the same thing thinking that i am in too many places today the wheels in this car could go in four different directions and i'd be sitting in the middle pretending i was untouchable as life races around me. streetlights; train tracks; i could curl up in the inside of a raindrop on your windshield driving through la at night and never feel cold. as long as you kept driving as long as you kept driving because life moves on, lovely, lonely you infiltrate my life with poetry romance. and i stand on top of this hill of sand that's not going to stay there much longer writing poetry because words will stay about as still as smoke maybe i'm getting wiser but that impermanence soothes me makes it easier to survive a night without a moon.
OneOneThreeFour because every sigh tells a story and every story has to end she looks around wistfully violet colored flowers in her hair frowning she looks away where's the smile little girl? happiness makes way for sorrow as quickly as a hummingbirds wings swirly lines, and snow covered mountains don't hold the allure they used to as she looks out her bleary sleep trodden eyes she see's you standing there silent, unmoving sigh little girl, sigh because every sigh holds a story and every story has to end.
One One Three Four (which got posted over...) easier to survive a night without a moon nothing to make it cold and hard and distant nothing to remind me of you i can slip into sleep without your nagging visage before me i can decide for myself i can i will not bow and the arms are like a sea before me each wanting me wanting to capture me in the most enviable of nets but i have been trapped too long and mistaken too many things for freedom and now i have no clue freedom does not exist, or does it? i'm crying. OneOneThreeFive freedom does not exist in the look of your eyes for me i understand now because i will never hold you i will never believe you again. sometimes it is harder to trust your closest friend
OneOneThreeSix i will never belive you because i've dug myself in again and as much as i remember and care i don't want to come out and have you watching me believe in tomorrow. -franny OneOneThreeSeven watching me like you're half asleep absentmindedly telling me what's best for my health (and yours) i can hear your extra thoughts rattling in the spaces of your brain that i don't occupy and i wonder how much energy i take. tired of talking in abstracts, maybe i should tell you how the sound of you typing over the phone makes me stop my breath, my mind and reduces me to staring at my cieling where i wish i had questions to spark a brilliant conversation written my stomach sinks into my back and my back sinks into my bed and i wonder if i should just go to sleep. but i'm reluctant to hang up when you won't even miss me. today it's hard to hang on to details everything overwhelms and wears me out. i miss you. and everything you are about.
OneOneThreeEight you are about to give me back my brain and then you change your mind again when you see i'll give in because i'm losing the ability to pretend i don't care about you the other night i said your eyes were beautiful today i believe it even more. -franny OneOneThreeNine give me my brain back and then give me back my voice, they're lost somewhere with e=mc squared and you squared minus me algebra seems positively elementary in comparison to creating an equation for happiness. I'm taking chemistry, not that I thought it would help - and it doesn't. polyatomic ions and I'm negatively charged when the other half of my compound takes off. very clever I am at writing a poem about chemistry and nothing and you. my throbbing head means I blew a couple fuses cramming for the final. I think I'm going to fail.
OneOneFourOh chemistry and nothing and you... nothing you you chemistry and sometimes i feel like my life makes no sense? you. in the test tube of my emotions and i would keep you there is nothing would stop interfereing chemistry and always you and a little more nothing. -franny (sorry this made no sense) 1141 You. The answer to so many why's. Piano flowing through the house, new enough to still be unsure of itself but beautiful all the same. Here. It suits me here, now that I am accustomed to the quiet. Always quiet. Even with everyone home, and even with the addition of one extra person, who isn't supposed to live here, but seems to belong anyway. Leave. I don't want to, I'm not ready to. I doubt I'll ever want to, at least not for a very long time. But I've got to get ready to go, long before I want to leave here, or you. Piano stops. All songs end. Silence. ~Qetyria~ OneOneFourTwo Silence. these silences. these silences used to be uncomfortable until it was dismantled and anylized into a waiting period for sinking in and beginning to remember how much i love you. -franny OneOneFourThree sinking in the beggining of every good poem. caramel steamers.mmm. my salvation comes in three different sizes i am the picture of every american child i cry because i can't dye my hair purple tonight of course it's because she's perfect for you. and so i drink my corporate coffee wishing i was so vibrant i didn't have to dye my hair to get the message across feeling restless so restless needing to get out of the house because she's perfect and tonight i sold my soul and my tastebuds to the devil and now they're burnt but i am remembering how to let my bones melt and take off my hostile coat. glad for you that she's perfect. and tomorrow i will have purple hair and then the whole world will be able to see.
1144 sinking in this isn't home, i can't stay forever. scared of the unknown that comes next of ripping away instead of a gentle parting. suddenly i'm needy but i still refuse to admit it. and there's always some reason to deny that i want to talk and i want someone to just hold me. you, you're talking over there. busy. i'm not the only one who needs you. and i grow tired so quickly of listening to half of a phone conversation while being mostly ignored. and you know he'd resent me even more if you put him aside to come talk to me for a bit. small tonight. no big letters. very unlike me. oh well. so's actually talking. i listen, i'm good at it. i got it from my mother, you know. people talk to her, i don't think she really tells everything to anyone. ~qete~ OneOneFourFive small tonight i am quickly becoming a shadow to assure you that you really are beautiful and then go home and hate my mirror and live for who i want to be instead of who i am because i never learned to swim and who i am is trying to swim through too much and i always got teased for not swimming so now i create a person who doesn't get teased for being who she is but she is't happy. oh no. she will cry. -franny OneOneFourSix she will cry. and not let me to dry her tears but it doesnt matter. i'm far away and i can't save her or dry her tears anymore i will walk away. and keep her in my soul then frame her untuchable face and hand it on the walls on the heart he will laugh. and roal his eyes then remember were his dead friends use to play then shrink away into himself i will wave my hands scream loud and make dem fuckers care about the storys of our slit wrists empty tummies and our dirty needles. someday i'll paint the world a picture of the unseen and shine there eyes on the shadows of were there eyes are to afraid to go
OneOneFourSeven roll his eyes yeah he is right now i can feel it through the computer so don't ask me to be soft tonight because it's all i can do not to grow spikes from every open hole and hope you fall into me so i can answer the challenge.
OneOneFourEight into me out of you out of yesterday into tomorrow out of confusion and into life -franny OneOneFourNine Out of confusion and life is clearer than any metaphor and the punch that was sitting on my stomach lifts off I can feel the rebound snapping my head back I am dizzy with the simplicity of it all OneOneFifty i am dizzy with who i have become and you fell over already because of who i left behind i am reeling you're rocking your heart has been stubbed on a corner sticking out i point to the freezer where the ice is kept and keep spinning. -franny NBTSWikiWiki | Recent Changes Edited 2 times, last edited on February 18, 2002 by kathleen@nbtsc.org. © 2000 NBTSC Webmasters |
