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samasati Nov 2012
I believe in smiling at strangers. I believe in saying hello. I believe in shyness. I believe in fear of rejection. I believe in the need of affection. I believe in the need of reminders. I believe in candles, especially those that smell of vanilla or christmas. I believe in wearing small crystals around my neck. I believe in energetic vibrations. I believe in colours - I think each person has their own colour. I believe every feeling is valid. I believe in chapstick and I believe in mascara that doesn’t clump. I believe in nail polish - every colour of nail polish. I believe that the only reason we lie is because we fear something. I believe in poetry. I believe in bluntness. I believe in the intention behind words, but I don’t necessarily believe in words. I believe in travel. I believe in travelling solo. In fact, I believe in travelling so much that it is pretty much all I want to do. I believe in music. Boy, do I believe in music. I believe any kind of musical composition can change a person. I believe music can cure depression. I also believe music can feed depression. I believe a melody can say more than lyrics and I believe that lyrics can be what someone couldn’t put together themselves to explain exactly how they are feeling. I believe anyone can create a song, even though they believe they cannot. I believe a single note can sound like the most beautiful sound in the world. I believe if someone records a song when they’re in an ugly mood, the ugliness emits to its listeners and can drain them. I believe in art. Of course I do. I believe in acrylic paint. I believe in oil paint and watercolours, but not as much as I believe in acrylic. I believe in fingerprinting. I even believe in painting with your toes. And I believe in dancing; even if it looks weird. I believe in flailing your arms even, as long as it feels good and right. I believe in dancing ‘til you sweat, though I don’t like that icky feeling too much. I believe that a babe can be a very ugly person and a physically unattractive person can be a very beautiful person. I believe that people who smile are beautiful. I believe that people who frown are beautiful too, just in a different way. I believe that there are sincere smiles and there are manipulative smiles. I believe that some people just know how to use their eyes well. I believe in eye contact. I believe in engaging. I believe in listening and dropping everything else that is going on in your mind just to listen to what a person is trying to share with you. I believe in sharing - sharing cookies and sharing love. I believe in the frosty cold. I believe that it doesn’t have to feel as cold as it really is. I believe that people complain a lot. I believe that people often have too much pride to be happy. I believe that we should embrace our discomforts and shames, that we should welcome them wholeheartedly so that we can be happy. I believe in honesty. I believe in empathy. I believe in tea. I believe in jelly donuts but only on certain occasions. I believe in quirky bow ties. I believe in knit toques and mittens and scarves. I believe in dresses. I believe in flirting. I believe in coffee in the morning. I believe in big comfy beds. I believe in walking around your empty house in your underwear or birthday suit, singing loudly. I believe in singing in the shower. I believe in singing on the street. I believe in stage fright. I believe in meditation, though I don’t really strictly set times to do it anymore. I believe mundane activities can be done in a meditative state of mind. I believe in clarity. I believe in not judging people because everyone is human. I believe every human has something very interesting about them. I believe in boring people too. I believe in christmas music - not the radio kind, the choral kind. I believe in cheap sweet wine. I believe in Billy Joel and I believe in The Beatles. I believe in Regina and Sufjan too. I believe that the ukulele is a very overrated instrument. I believe in having healthy hair. I believe in moisturizer. I believe in getting to pick a coloured toothbrush at the dentist. I believe in thick wool socks. I believe in baggy sweaters. I believe in yoga gear but I do not believe in sweatpants. I believe that yoga is one of the healthiest things for a person - ever. I believe in buying a friend drinks or dinner once in awhile. I believe in collecting shoes and scarves and rings. I believe in chords but I don’t really believe in jeans. I believe in hot chocolate with whip cream but not with marshmallows. I believe in dorky Christmas sweaters. I believe in baking cookies instead of cake. I believe in eating disorders - I do not support them, but I do believe they are much more severe and various than most people think and I believe there should be better/proper help for those who suffer instead of the usual cruel inpatient/outpatient care. I believe in trichotillomania and I believe in dermatillomania and the severity and impact it can have on its sufferers. I believe in gardens. I believe in every single flower. I believe that everyone is always doing their best. I believe that most people love to struggle. I believe in hope. I believe in having faith in yourself. I believe in iPod playlists. I believe in gym memberships in the winter, not the summer unless it’s to swim. I believe in matching underwear every day. I believe in Value Village. I believe in singing in bus shelters when you’re waiting for the bus. I believe in dressing up according to holidays. I believe in Grey’s Anatomy and I believe in Community. I believe in skirts and dresses that twirl like the ‘ol days. I believe in longboards more than skateboards. I believe in plaid like most young people do. I believe in bows in my hair, but not as much as I used to. I believe in foot massages and hand massages. I believe in reflexology and reiki and essential oils and chakras and crystals and holistic nutrition. I believe in anxiety; even crippling anxiety. I believe in awkward romances. I do not believe in flip flops. I do not believe in Beatles covers unless they are really insanely good; then my mind is blown. I believe in having long enough nails to scratch someone’s back appropriately. I also believe in biting nails. I do not believe in telephone calls unless I am extremely comfortable with the person. I believe in blogs. I believe in journals. I believe in naming special inanimate objects like journals, instruments, technology and furniture. I believe in the idea of cats more than I believe in cats. I believe in sharpies or thin pointed permanent markers. I believe in temporary tattoos. I believe in streaming movies online. I believe in royal gala apples. I believe in avocados. I believe in rice cakes. I believe in popcorn. I believe in airports but I hate the LA airport. I believe in openly talking about *** but I don’t believe in making it seem shameful and gross. I believe there should be no shame regarding sexuality. I believe in reading some great books more than once. I believe in laying on the couch under cozy blankets, watching a great suspenseful tv show or movie. I only believe in having a couple bites of cheesecake. I don’t really believe in lulu lemon. I don’t believe many people can pull off the colour yellow. I believe in buttons over zippers even though zippers are easier, they just look kind of dumb and cheap. I believe in the sun and the moon equally. I believe in closets over dressers. I believe in staring out the window for a good hour or so.
Rochelle Roberts Apr 2016
I'm stuck in this room
Trapped by the decaying white walls
That I scrape away at,
Mindlessly, as I shift
From medicated dreams to
Manic insomnia.
I thought the last thing I said to you was
Don't leave me here.

My eyes bleed
As I try to remove the demons
Infesting me,
Creeping through my lashes
Into my irises.
The droplets stain the walls,
Fingerprinting my frenzied panic,
Echoing the last thing I said to you.
Why did you leave me here?

The air is intoxicating,
Shifting from breathlessness to weightlessness.
I'm sure they poison me here.
And you, the fallen angel of my thoughts,
You fiendish whisperer,
You have felt my fear,
Witnessed its brutality
In its shifting manifestations,
But still you left me here.
This poem was inspired by artwork by Tracey Emin of the same name.
Nat Lipstadt Mar 2014
some ways back,
new babe poets
sought me out,
asking, seeking

The How
and the
Please Sir,
touch me,
here and there,
tell me secrets,
as if any I knew

but I did,
sotto voce,
behind the scenes
gladly,
for the greatest pleasure
man invented is
lending a hand,
a kind word

would write them
long essays
but never
sent them

two standards I could
never ever meet:

what did I know,
worth keeping,
whom am I
to judge

these days,
must stop to thank them
my voice is changing,
when I answered myself

now only simplest words
emerging
knowing that each of us,
value galore,
ad valorem

move quieter,
fingerprinting my modest stays
in your words and lives,
semi-loudly, and semi-humbly,
for they tell me
so much,
so well,
teaching that,
that all
is worth keeping.

and that is the best advice
I ever got
to give
For so many, but with Joe and Purple Orchid in the forefront of my consciousness
they understand.
I am awash in the deepest sense of being appreciated by so many, that I needed to tell you, you are my teachers, my guides...now,
I seek you out
Zach Short Feb 2019
warm hands fingerprinting crisp glass.
oscillating breaths -
between clear and opaque.
a calming condensation.
an understanding of balance.
no matter the cold - your radiance endures, sweet child.
eligibility predicated upon mandatory fingerprinting

Courtesy anticipatory anxiety
breeds palmar hyperhidrosis
(i.e. hands adrip
with profuse perspiration)
honest to dog truthfully
most inconvenient malady

holds Earthling (yours truly)
in precarious emotional balance
me silently screaming
against ill fated physiological disorder
also upending prospective
employment ambitions (parttime).

Qualification to acquire said voucher
(essentially to help pay rent)
slips thru slippery fingers (mine),
thus wet out further ado, the extent
I broadcast sweaty plight
less for empathy than to air lament
anyway syndrome already expounded
by garden variety generic gent.

Accursed genetic unpleasant quirk
(vis a vis polyhidrosis)
thwarts virtual, social, and political
(yes folks I sought storied government perch)
ambitions toward gaining traction,

to experience cosmic consciousness,
hence moost every digital,
interpersonal, practical (joking) aspiration
figuratively dashed into
bajillion pieces to no avail.

Even as a wee lad
scores of decades yesteryear
I distinctly remember
abysmal introvertedness where
psychological torture
wracked psyche there
boot for the grace of dog,

this muttering kid felt queer
son of a gun ousted joining foo fighters
as a third musketeer
despite qualifying as rightful heir
thus in the least sought trappings
indicative of very important person
while entombed within recycled bier.

Subsequently, mine lifeless being cremated
ashes scattered to four winds
inert matter repurposed courtesy Gaia
physical earthly dwelling irrelevant

speculation abounds since time immemorial,
what constitutes purpose of existence
a chicken and egg thing
where copulation (pertaining to humans)
triggers hormonal secretion

poised to unsuspecting strike haploid
female reproductive cell, or gamete
if bonafide ***** deed done dirt cheap
attains crowning glory
fertilized **** results

reputedly engendering conception
though uncertainty when nascent embryo
considered greater than inchoate
amalgamation of cells.

Ideally biological processes
merrily humming along
once gestation period complete
viable organism (**** sapien) born
oblivious to nothing else except
except basic needs and wants

until adequate mental,
physical, spiritual development
necessitates progeny to fend for her/himself
wherein adult autonomous species
enroute to secure a place to call their home,
which onerous cost
eased courtesy housing choice voucher.

Aforementioned county program
synonymous with section 8,
though methinks the latter term
evoked non-positive connotation
within mind of prospective landlord.
b for short Oct 2016
Beyond a wooden door
there is a room
where we sit and grow
three years older together.
Many words spoken,
all ranks broken.
But a thing is always there—
staining whatever it touches.
Blackberry juices fingerprinting
all of my bright white hopes.
A thing molts in the stale air,
trailing feathers
that wean and wane
by the force of our hot breath;
always there in that room
where we denied tomorrow
every credit it begged for.
A thing we gave every other name
aside from its given.
A thing. A simple thing.
© Bitsy Sanders, October 2016
Creepypastafairy Dec 2024
There are memories that I have
Some I like some I would rather
Forget.  But the ones I want to remember
That make me. ….me !  Are the a
T
  A
       M
            O
                G
                    O
                        T
                           C
                               H
                                    I
Fall leaves as my niece and nephew played in them
The sight of a jack o lantern
These are the memories that made me
This is my brain finger print of the past
Now
O
      N
To the future
Yazad Tafti Nov 2019
i love the Frost fingerprinting my bedroom window
laminating a translucent sheet
Jack seen only by his palm prints
the widow's window of opportunity
covered with frost
turbidity caused from a loosely stranded past
she never sheds her winter coat
frost is always clinging on her summertime pane
in winter she wears extra layers
jack was here

— The End —