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Juniper Jul 2016
think of ice cream melting so you have to lick it off the sides of the cone

think of holding hands with a boy for the first time

think of being *****- not a gross ***** but ***** like you worked so hard today that you deserve this 800 calorie meal

think of the sounds of summer when you close your eyes, of a slight wind and the chimes that they blow about on your grandmother's porch

and speaking of grandmothers, and their porches, think of how you discovered watercolours in that very place

and think of coming home from a long day at the pool and watching the rain on your porch while you feel your skin cool down and you drink that amazing caramel tea

think of climbing the tree to get to the wall to climb on the garage roof and watch the clouds roll in over the mountains

think of the feel of the first time you got to hold a baby bunny and how in a way this made you see God

think of that feeling when you hiked the mountain even though your hip was broken and you got to the top and said 'i did it'

think of when you swam in the ocean and all your troubles ran off into the water and left you forever because the water was the pacific

think of putting on all that makeup and your prom dress just because you felt like it

think of dancing in the rain with your sister when the grass smelled sweet and the dirt was soft like a carpet and you felt at one with the world

think of cooking when billie holiday belts it from a record player and you sip red wine and pop the tomatoes in your mouth and your curls dangle in your vision

think of running off stage and getting high fived and glowing because you just successfully became someone else for a scene

think of that wonderful little secret joy you get from seeing that look he gives you when you're not looking... he just doesn't know you're staring at a glass reflection

think of how you have no money and the waitress is at one time annoyed with you because you can't afford a milkshake but grins as she walks away because she was that crazy kid too

think of the love you feel on your birthday when so many people made a special time to buy you something they think you'll like. even if you don't

think of falling asleep in the arms of someone you love and feeling like everything is in the perfect place and you are safe

think of the way cathedrals go up and up in the gothic style and how you understand the phrase heavenly light and feel yourself become weightless as you lean your head back

think of being cuddled in a soft blanket with hot chocolate while it snows, how you know your cheeks are pink and nose is rosy but it's all due to the world baring winter with you

think of thanksgiving and family and eating so much but being together because you are from the same people and you share blood and you are bound

think of swinging around your new haircut because you have nothing touching your shoulders and it ends so quickly and is new

think of drinking wine with your girlfriends in your pajamas and being classy together

think of backpacking through europe and how the locals know you are there to experience the real stuff and not some tour bus nonsense that never lets you stop at this little cafe you want to love

think of finishing a long book that shows wear on the covers that lets everyone know you smelled it paid so much attention to it for so long

think of falling asleep after a long day and knowing you deserve it and you are happy and all the bad is gone from your life. You've coughed out the demons and cried out the poison and you're now a week sober of sadness and everything is getting better and it's not even uphill from here, it's a sleigh ride now
MyIner Agony May 2017
Being weird is important to me. I find it's a gift because it means that you are different than everyone else. I know I am weird because not very many 9th girls have my hairstyle. I say weird things. Instead of saying, what's up, I say "wasabi". I tell corny jokes. I'm weird because I like hugs and not very many teenagers like hugs. I'm weird because I eat olives and sunflower seeds, for snack. I'm weird because I believe in fairy tales characters like mermaids, fairies and unicorns though people tell me that they're not real. I'm weird because I'd rather read a good book than watch T.V. I'm weird because I have at least 20 nerd glasses and 5 snap backs. There are so many ways to be weird. I'm the weirdest person I know so I'll use myself as an example.
I know I'm weird because not very many girls have dreads at 14 years old. I also say weird things. Instead of "what's up? "I saying "wasabi". I also tell corny jokes that I know aren't funny like, what did the penguin say when his friend asked "why did you slap me? ! " He said, ¨I didn't slap you, I high fived your face." It's not all that funny is it ….Thats why its weird to say it.
I'm weird because I like to give hugs to show someone I care, but others only do that with boyfriends and girlfriends. A ****** like me might have a fairytale land of their own, where fairies, mermaids and unicorns live. I have a fairytale land of my own, full of candy canes and gumdrops, fairies, mermaids and unicorns. I have a black unicorn with a green and neon yellow horn, green tail, and a neon yellow mane. His name is Lucky. His favorite snack is Skittles and, his favorite food is graham crackers. His favorite drink is strawberry milk. We have dinner under my tree full of hearts. I'm weird because all that I just said is childish, but I don't care.
A ****** like me might rather read a good book than watch television. A ****** like me might have twenty pair of nerd glasses and five snapbacks. A ****** like me might not wear dresses, skirts, or shorts. A ****** like me might write books and poems.A ****** like me might fall on purpose to make someone laugh. A ****** like me might like school. A ****** like me might stare into space without noticing. I do this five times a week for at least two minutes; weird right. A ****** like me may dance, sing, or look up at the sky randomly without knowing. I'm me and you're you. I'm not you and you're not me. So, please don't judge ******'s for being who they are because they're gonna be them and you're gonna be you because that's how its suppose to be. So how weird are you? I bet it is not weirder than me.
Last week, Cortney moved into a four story apartment
with seven twenty-something year old roomates, all boys.
The men share the first three floors.
while Cortney has the enire top floor to herself.
I spent the night there saturday night.
And around 10:00pm
a twenty-three year old boy
Blonde, baby faced, named Kevin Smith
stumbled drunk into Cortneys penthouse room.
Kevin smith removed his pants, and crawled into bed with us.
Kevin Smith nuzzled into my face, pulled me close, and rested his hand,
firmly on my ***.
Kevin Smiths breath smelled of ***, coffee, (and a man who regularly brushes his teeth.
Good Job Kevin Smith.)
At first, Cortney and I assumed Kevin Smith was each other.
after further, mostly-unconcious, inventory of our limbs,
we gathered this was neither the case, nor a hallucination.
Cortney flopped dryly for her cellphone and shined it's light at Kevin Smith.
"What the ****" Shouted Cortney.
No response from Kevin Smith.
"What the ****!!"
We got out of bed and put clothes on,
laughed at how ridiculous it was
that a drunk stranger just grabbed my ***,
while an unconcious Kevin Smith laid in Cortneys bed.
Kevin Smith sat up
"This is really telling. I uh..."
Cortney cut him off
"Get out."
As she turned on the light.
"Can you guys call my phone?" Asked Kevin Smith,
"No." Said Cortney
Get out of my room."
physically pushing Kevin Smith out of her room.
Cortney held up Kevin Smiths drunk zanax filled body on the stairs.
preventing Kevin Smith from otherwise falling down said stairs and dying.
Kevin Smith showed his appreciation by saying,
"High fives all around"
I watched Cortney strattle drunk Kevin Smith awkwardly, yet also motherly
down the stairs.
I leaned over the railing and high fived Kevin Smith.
"I just want you to know," mumbled Kevin Smith
you guys are my friends.
You don't need to.. I got this".
"No, you really don't" said Cortney,
"if you fall down or throw up on me
you owe me $20"
Cortney delivered Kevin Smith to his bed.
Kevin Smith mumbled something, and Cortney returned upstairs.
"What the ****?" Laughed Cortney.
"What the ****." I replied.
A true story...
What just happened.
Anais Vionet Nov 2024
(a university-life vignette)

It’s a Friday night, Leong and I are at a small restaurant close to the dorm called “Ordinary.” We’re in a cozy, pleasantly dark, little red booth—waiting for Lisa—who’s running late. This is Leong’s favorite bar and her taste in exotic drinks is labile—tonight she has us drinking ‘Maker’s Mark,’ a delicious, straight-up bourbon, with a twist of orange peel.

We’re on our second—and I’m starting to buzz—did I mention Lisa’s running late? On a hot note, we’re celebrating. I turned in the first draft of my thesis prospectus last Wednesday and this morning I got it back - accepted.

But more importantly, when I tore into the envelope, back in my room, there was a yellow sticky-note on the prospectus that read like an academic valentine. It said:
“Anais, you write beautifully, with the economy of a poet.”
I may have danced around my room.

So, we’re sitting there, sipping our drinks and noshing on a charcuterie platter when this cute, hipster, Princeton transfer-student guy named Milo showed up—drink in hand. He’s like, 5 '11 with light-brown medium-longish hair tucked behind his ears and he’s wearing a light blue, textured cardigan over a tan t-shirt and leaf-green work pants. At first, he’s walking by, but he spots us and stops.

“Has anyone ever told you look like Anais Vionet?” He asked me.
“No,” I replied, “never.” “You sound like her too,” he followed up.
“Well, I wouldn’t know,” I answered, shaking my head ‘no’ and shrugging.
“But she’d never come to a dive this cheap,” he updogged.
“Oh, yes she would,” I assured him.

Then, I gasped, remembering. Milos on one of Yale’s 500 soccer teams. “You guys lost to Princeton the other day! Isn’t that your alma mater? Congratulations!”
“Thanks, for bringing that up,” he said somewhat chagrined,
“We lost one-to-nil—it was just bad luck,” he said defensively.
“Oh, bad luck,” I chided him.

He did look tired and defeated, so I motioned him to take a seat. He slid right in next to Leong, who’s hand he shook, “Milo,” he said.
“I KNOW,” she said, in a sly and evil way—we’ve talked about him, conspiratorially—even she thinks he’s cute—and cross-culturally-cute isn’t easy.

“Are you superstitious?” Milo asked us—turning so Leong was included.
“Oh, sure,” I spoke first, “I was raised catholic, and even if you don’t hundo-p believe, it carries over. I always carry a lucky crystal with me—you know, for tests and what-not—I depend on that, as opposed to diligence and studying.”

“You have one with you now?” He followed up.
“I do,” I confessed, “I always have one in my bra.”
“Wow,” he laughed, “Why?”
“I don’t know,” I chuckled, “For luck—in case I need to appear supper fun and sassy? Though I guess I’m proof crystals don’t work.”
“Do you really have a crystal in your bra?” He asked, sipping his whisky.
“Yeah,” I said, sliding my hand discreetly into my left cup and bringing out a tiny, flat green, polished Jade stone crystal. “Isn’t that uncomfortable?” He asked.
“Nah, there’s plenty of room in there,” I admitted, sliding the crystal back in place.

“Leong’s superstitious,” I said, nodding to her.
“All Chinese are superstitious,” Leong pronounced, “whenever I had a big exam at school, my mother would go and leave a chicken at the temple.”
Milo and I chortled—I’d actually seen women do that when I lived in Shenzhen.
“Well, I guess it worked!” Milo pronounced, and he and Leong high-fived.
“We have a saying, ‘it’s better to be lucky than good,” he added.
We say, “Yùnqì zhòngyàoguò nénglì,” Leong noted, in Cantonese.
“Luck is more important than ability,” I translated.
Speaking of luck, Lisa finally arrived.
.
.
Songs for this:
Where Are You by 54 Ultra
Cut Glass by mark william lewis
Merriam Webster word of the day challenge 11/12/24:
Labile = open to change.

My thesis topic is "Molecular dynamics simulations of protein folding." 🙃 It's about protein-protein interactions (cellular functions) and developing new medicines and treatments. It isn't easy to give it a poetic twist.

Our cast:
Leong, (roommate) 21, is from Macau, China - the Las Vegas of Asia and she’s a proud communist (don’t knock it til you’ve tried it). She's a ‘molecular, cellular, and developmental biology major.’ I speak Cantonese—which may be why we were paired—I lived in Shenzhen China (about 30 miles from Macau) - we talk a lot of secret trash together.

Lisa, (roommate) 21, my bff. Grew up in a posh, 50th floor residence on Central Park South in Manhattan. She shares my major (Molecular biophysics and biochemistry) and is easily the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in RL (and is sensitive about it). Our tastes match, in everything (fashion, media, music, humor) except men.
Keah Jones Jul 2016
he wears cowboy boots to bed
and says "yes ma'am" like sweet tea pouring from his sunburnt lips
once we went up to the lake hitched our horses and went skinny dipping and he left his hat on

he removes his hat as a sign of respect
he holds a hand over his heart for the friends he left behind
he taught me to ride like my soul was being set free from that castle walls that were built

he two stepped with my mamma
when the music rang out through the grass
but that didn't make up for the time I was late for dinner because we couldn't pull our eyes from the stars

he shook hands with my father over burgers on the grill
high fived my little brother and called me baby
but that didn't make up for the time that we drove out the canyon and danced our way to the top of a mountain with no reception
we danced and swayed and stayed until the moon called me home
Kayla Lynn Mar 2013
Though the microscopic details of last night
Have effortless flooded out of my mind
And into her breath
I can still see all of the scenes
That I tried like hell to forget
But it's in her lungs
Like a piece of her
That she couldn't have possibly lived without
But will still soon let go
And forget
But it's there

Those words I mouthed as I realized
So swiftly
She doesn't know.

This girl that I met and instantly
Felt connected to
Like the frayed string of my favorite crimson sweater
Locked away in my closet
Finally stitched itself up
And it's Winter
And I still look half decent in red
So it's pressed against my skin once more

I sat there with the drugs between my teeth
Like I had something to prove
To myself
And the world
I'm still here you know, I'm still here
And even though I've pinky promised
And high-fived this girl
Like we grew up together
Eating the same dirt
She still doesn't know

She doesn't know all of the tragedy in my blood
And how I make Violet, Klaus, and Sunny jealous
Of my misfortune
A story so dark it would never win an award
But it happened
And it happened to me
And ripped me in half and activated my emptiness
Like depression is just a switch that only flips one way
A back plague that can only adhere itself to hope
And it's safe to say a dementor would starve
If I was left as it's only prey

So here we are,
And we're sharing a bowl laughing bitterly at memories
We wish we didn't have
Acting like we've moved on and built a bridge
Over the heart ache by simply laying down our jackets
On top of a puddle
But it wasn't that simple
I'm sitting in a pile of rubble and bricks with upside-down blueprints
In French
Slot A and B don't exist
And there is no simple way to forget the things
That once made us hole

I want a time machine so I can go back
And erase everything I ever ****** up
I want a time machine so I can flash forward
And see where the **** all of this is leading me to
I want a time machine
Because I'm sick of taking my life day by day
Scraping by, just praying to survive
Hoping someone will ride in on a white horse
With a suit of armor big enough for both of us
And a sword sharp enough to slice up my demons

I take my hit
And I stare at the girl I barely know
Wondering if her past can measure up to mine

She doesn't know.

She doesn't know how broken my heart was
On the day I learned it wasn't really shaped like that
She doesn't know that I was beautiful once
Before the scars took over my skin
She doesn't know

And maybe that's why we're friends.
Anais Vionet Dec 2023
It’s Friday afternoon. Anna, Lisa, Leong and I are sitting around our common room - sagging actually - after a long day.
“I need a break,” I said, “now’s the time - today, this day -  it's been a long week.”  “Document,” Leong affirmed.
“Sometimes you gotta..” Anna faded out letting an arm flop like a dead soldier.
“Let’s go OUT to dinner somewhere,” I said, “my treat.”
“We can eat for free here,” Leong said.
“We might have to economize someday,” I said, a little annoyed, “but it won’t be today.”
“Can you believe we just came back less than a week ago?” Lisa asked.
“I can’t,” Leong said.
“It’s shocking,” Anna sighed, winding a ring of her auburn hair around her index finger.
“I’ve lived many lives since then,” I admitted.
“On Wednesday,” Leong began, “I was like, I feel like I’ve been here for weeks.”

“It’s coming up on time to leave!” Anna exclaimed.
“And leave for a WHILE,” Lisa undogged.
“I’m VERY excited to leave for a while,” Leong laughed.
“It’s going to happen,” I said, like a prayer.
“Then we can come back and be like, I’m glad to be here” Lisa said
“After you’ve been gone for a while, you DO miss it.” Anna admitted, shrugging.

A hot moment later, I asked Lisa, “Should I use this for a poetry pic?” Turning my iPad in her direction, “Yeah,” she says laughing. “My hair looks like I’m coming out of a cocoon.” I added.
“You know when you don’t have enough pictures for an Instagram post?” Lisa asked, looking critically through the pics we took last night. “Look,” she says, sharing them up to our 55” TV.

After a few, I said, “Lisa and I were talking about this yesterday,” turning to Anna and Leong, a little exasperated, “Lisa, has all of these pics of me with my underwear and it’s like..”
“Wait!,” Lisa gasped, NOT on purpose! That makes it sound.. don’t SAY THAT like THAT,” she laughs.
“And it’s just like.. you don’t need to share those,” I laugh, waving my arms.
“You’re making me sound like a *******..” Lisa snickered.
“I’m not a baby!” I hooted.

“They're not at ALL ******,” Anna noted.
“I’m not saying THAT,” I winced.
“When we're drunk, at home, snapping pix and we’re wearing these little dresses..” Lisa begins, “it’s not like I’m taking pictures of your underwear” she stammers laughingly.
“There are angles and there are angles where you see!” I point at the example on the screen.  
“We were drunk!“ Lisa said, “I wasn’t trying.. YOU were drunk too!” She said, counteroffensively.
“But you were CrAzY,” I laughed.
“Crazy,” Lisa laughed, “Yeah, anyways - why’d you have to say that? You took similar pics.” Lisa added, smiling knowingly.

“No one gets to see them,” Leong said, she’s new to Instagram and Lisa is usually her mentor.
“They do if they’re public,” I noted, pointing to the little icon.
“Shut up!” Lisa snapped, “I EDIT them before I post them - blur things or whatever!”
“Ok, I said, “We don’t need to do this now.. you brought pix up.” I held up my hands in surrender.
“Jesus Christ, merzy, murble flurble,” Lisa muttered, her voice fading out into incoherence.

“But If you wait, save the good picture for a dump - then, it’s too far away to post.” Leong said.
“Well, that’s not true, I don’t believe that.” Anna chirped in, “a cool pic is always welcome.”
“I don’t like dumps,” I said, “I don’t want to scroll through a ton of someone’s pix, it’s tiring.”
“If you’ve A cool pic or even one kind of cool pic, then everyone knows what’s up, Anna offered.
“Ethos 2024,” I pronounced.
“Post whatever,” Lisa updogged, as I dabbed my lips with lip gloss.
“Can I borrow your lip gloss?” Lisa asked me, rubbing her chapped lips.
“Sure,” I said, handing it over. Yeah, we argue like sisters but friendship involves nuance and shared understandings.

“Your parents are back in Ukraine - ya? Leong asked me, “Are you going to Lisa’s? (for Christmas)”
“It’s been agreed,” I confirmed, smiling.
“We gonna tear it UP!” Lisa laughed and we high-fived, smiling in anticipation.

Slang..
Document = true, fact
(*BLT Marriam Webster word of the day challenge: Mentor: someone who teaches a less experienced person.*)
Lindsay Thomas Dec 2015
Who was the first person to decide
what's right and what's wrong?
Not the picky choosy **** we think
Came straight from the Bible.
The book that's been translated across
many languages, cultures, and general
beliefs?
I mean the first person.
The first group of people that decided
having a full life is wrong.
Being yourself is wrong.
Wanting is wrong.
Yearning, dreaming, achieving...
All wrong.
Who decided being a woman
was so wrong that we should be condemned?
I should be able to **** who I want
and not be defined by my "number".
I shouldn't have to be asked that question.
I should be getting high-fived for having
Consensual *** with the guy who
makes my coffee.
I should be applauded for having ***
with multiple men.
I should be shown the same level of
respect as any man out there.
But my number is vital, isn't it?
Well, I say **** all of that.
**** a whole bunch of it.
**** anyone you want.
******* do anything you want to do.
Don't hurt anyone, and it shouldn't
be anyone's ******* business but yours.
Jesus ******* Christ.
**** him, too.
**** any imaginary thing you want.
That's what ******* is for.
**** yourself, for God's sake!
He wanted his people to be happy, right?
Free yourself from the chains of
modern society!
Find people just like you, and don't let them go.
They will be strong for you,
hold their heads high for you.
Defend you against nay-sayers and party poopers.
Stand behind you when confronted with
mass objection.
We are the lovers, and the fighters,
and we are many.
Band together and **** society.
You know,
For God's sake.

lmt
Carly Two Sep 2013
All my friends asked if I'd gotten busy
and I high-fived, yes indeed.

We met him on a party bus on the way home.
He talked to my friend the entire way, but she had a boyfriend.

The night before I had brought home a ******
who cried
about cheating on his girlfriend and that his **** wouldn't work.

They were bodies,
eyes to watch watch me
and I just wanted.

He ****** with his shirt on.
He cuddled me with one arm until he thought I was asleep
which is the exact physical embodiment of how it feels when your boyfriend stops looking at you.

"You don't really want my number"
"Wha-what?"
"You don't. It's okay. I don't want yours either."

So simple.
Reassuring.
Nuanced, intricate, sly,
perfect.

It would've been perfect.
Copyright, C. Heiser 2013
Aaron McDaniel Sep 2017
When I was growing up in South Carolina, I had this friend who had immigrated from Ecuador when he was young. He was a pretty great kid, funny, large personality, intuitive. We use to play under the sun, and make bugs out of gummy candies, with that machine you'd seen in commercials. It was green, and blue, to help distinguish that it was for boys.  A few years later, I moved away. Same old story, parents got divorced, etc, etc.

In our next town in North Carolina, I had met this girl named Taylor. She was friendly, and I was impressionable. I was the new kid at school and she was friendly. Obviously we bonded. Taylor and I never hung out after school. Something about how my mom's boyfriend smelled like cigarettes and his van looked unsafe. I liked it because the only seat was the front seat. I never paid attention to the fact that other kids were laughing behind me when Taylor talked to me. We were friends. I was playing on the playground one day,  when she got my attention. From behind me, a tennis ball smacked my spine, sent me crippling. Everyone laughed. Including Taylor. I never understood why she high-fived the guy for doing it, or why we never spoke after that. I also picked up a nickname. "F*ggot"

2006, we moved to Maine. Windham, specifically. Another new kid. I actually fit in this time. The nickname stayed in the rear-view with the south. I met two guys that I got kind of close with. Nate, and Tyler. we did a lot together during the day. I never ended up seeing them much after school, but I didn't see the value in that. We were so cool together. I saw them the other day, and there was no attempt in their brain to recognize me. I was forgotten.

I moved again, this time to Naples. We'd move again to Bridgton, yet staying in the school system for my sister. She didn't want to start over again. It's easy to start over, so I dismissed her worries. Until the nickname came back. For two years I wore a imaginary sticker on my chest, that most every other male older than myself called me by. It had something to do with the fact that I liked to write, and use a microphone. I didn't get it.

The friends I made here, I thought we'd be together until we died. We still talk. We laugh. Tag each other on Facebook, and send dumb selfies on Snapchat, but I've lost every one that I can talk to.

I use to be able to stay up late, look at the stars, talk to someone. Like a scene from some teen drama. Drinking whatever we could get our hands on, and laughing about how dumb we were.

The drinking never stopped. There's no more laughing. It's mostly a game I play with myself to help me sleep. There's something to be said for being alone. I've become wiser. Less selfish, yet more self fulfilling. I know what I like, which is also my greatest downfall. I've pushed away most everyone that I've been close to since.

There is no moral to the story. There is no story. There is only a dim  lamp with a broken ***, a bottle cap on the floor, and silence looming in the air so heavy.
Attempted to write an upbeat poem. Wrote a depressing short story. Oops.
With a curse, some wicked witch
drew and flicked her tongue
to **** the damsel to a fate
of  slumber till true love comes.

But ****, that damsel laughed
threw her arm around the witch
and poked a little gaff
at the self-assured ol’ *****,

I can think myself out of love
or in it, for that matter.
Do what you’ll do
but no love is true.
You could give the princes a ladder


and still I would sleep here forever,
which might pain me if I were younger,
but I like my dreams
and sleeping  seems
better than life and its hunger.


So she skipped up to the tower
two steps at a time
high-fived the dragon guard
and spit one last jab behind

*The more I think of it
there’s no bad way this can end!
I either wake up to great ***
or dream it till I’m dead!
Daniel Magner Apr 2014
you can't know
who you really are
if you've never
been in a fist fight
last night John
let it slip
"I've never fought anyone"
I grinned, hands curled
feet placed
He tossed me about the balcony
my blows weak
I mean
he had 100 pounds on me
hook to the kidney
knee to my ribs
till we called quits
high fived
and
decided to fight
again
Daniel Magner 2014

My blood hasn't pumped like that
in a long time
Jeanelle Averett Feb 2016
We moved out west to Hollywood
And quickly settled down
Amongst the rich and famous in
The heart of Tinsel Town

I joined the local Lion’s Club
My wife, the PTA
The kiddos were ecstatic when
Invited out to play

They called for pick up early and
We asked them on the go
Just how it went with their new friends
In Nine 0 Two One 0

They answered back in unison
It wasn’t fun and games
These California movie stars
Give kids the strangest names

The Nanny said that we should play
With Coco on the lawn
So we made some in the kitchen
High-fived...and said, ‘Game on’

Were we to know that ‘Coco’ meant
A girl and not a drink
Oh, pardon our absurdity
And poured ours down the sink

About that time the Nanny said
That Apple was out back
So we patted on our tummies
Oh, fi-na-lly...a snack

Were we to know that ‘Apple’ was
A friend of Choc’late Moo
Of the sev’ral major food groups
We’d shared play time with two

About that time the Nanny said
That Blanket’s on the deck
We weren’t the least bit cold at all
But, wrapped up for a sec

Were we to know that ‘Blanket’ was
A boy and not a spread
The blankets back where we came from
Were folded on our bed

About that time the Nanny said
Tu Morrow’s on her way
And wanted us to stay until
Tu Morrow came--to play

We didn’t know ‘Tu Morrow’ meant
Not staying for a snooze
So we begged off playing longer
We were getting too confused!
lauren Oct 2016
do you ever sit
quit, still
and wonder who
may be thinking about you
at that very moment

do you ever sit  hunched over in lecture
wondering
if your car is the car
someone has picked out to watch
speed by on a rainy day
passing the time

or ponder
if your car headlights are the ones
shining in through the little boys window
at midnight
singing him to sleep

have you ever thought about
who is longing for a way out or
what the person on the train
sitting next to you has to say about
polotics

do you ever smile at a raindrop
cascading down glass
at a child lauging
or being right in class

how about the wind
on a humid summer day
or the way you can change someones mood
by the little things you say

have you stopped and held the door
for the man that walks with a cane
or wondered why
others cant do the same

have you stopped to thank those
who have helped you succeed
who have clothed your back
given you everything you need

have you looked in the mirror and
said hey its okay
i like this better
than eating a salad anyway

when was the last time
you held out you hand
for someone in need
and said yes you can

have you been the best you
have you ran the extra mile
have you high fived
yourself
and finished with a smile

do you ever sit
and wonder of things to come
or imagine all the things that
you could have done
Harry J Baxter Feb 2013
I love this venue
that cobble stone alley
I've found needles there before
So perfectly filthy
and the place smells
like ****, *****, and sweat
And we tear it apart with every show
Me and Martin and Jake
drinking beers with one of the bands
before they went on stage
The manager came out
"What the hell are you doing?
I don't want a bunch of drunk kids in my club!
Get your ***** back inside."

Buzzing we made our way inside
God this music is loud
****** fingers shredding guitars
and rapid fire growls
like a hungry stomach
I like this?
I don't even understand it
The pit was going insane
and I was just drunk enough
were I was too
So we jumped in
punching and slamming our bodies
into complete strangers
A thirty year old man
punched me in the face
so I punched him back
and he high fived me

The crowd demanded blood
Jake was hoisted off the ground
crowd surfing a tsunami
they drunkenly neglected
that it was a bad idea
to drop into a hurricane
of stomping studded boots
But they did
and we dragged him out
blood overflowing from his mouth
we had to leave early
and missed the headliner
Jake received five stitches
and wore it like a medal
I didn't go to many shows after that
Samantha Wesley Oct 2021
The boy with the curly black hair from room 1402 zippered his dark puffer jacket as he pushed the door open. The air outside was chilly, the temperature flirting with the goosebumps on his neck. He ran his right hand through his curls as he walked with intention toward the intersection, looking both ways before crossing Spruce Street. Behind him glowed multicolored lights provided by the LED setup of his fellow neighbors on floor 14.
The Financial District was always calm at night, and that’s what he loved most about it. He smiled to himself as he roamed the streets, reminiscing on the promising outcomes of nights past. As he made his way toward Stone Street, he shed the skin of Zachary Taylor and slithered into Jackson Jones. Becoming Jackson was Zach’s favorite part of his nightly routine. Jackson had a winning smile and charming personality. He had money to throw away and designer clothes. Jackson didn’t have a mother in a mental institution or a father who had ended his own life. Jackson had two sisters and a brother, and they all vacationed in the South of France. Jackson had a Summer home in Florence and a Winter lodge in the Swiss Alps.
His mantra was interrupted by a blurry figure crossing his path. A beautiful girl with light brown hair and doe eyes glanced at him for a second before blushing and continuing on her way. This would be his prey for the night.
“Hey, my friends and I are going to Mad Dogs for a tower and some guacamole, want to join?”
This simple invitation always made women feel at ease and intrigued, instead of suspicious and threatened. Zachary knew that she would join him to eat, and after a few drinks he would look at his phone and tell her that his friends had cancelled, but that he was having such a good time with her and didn’t want the night to end. He would beckon her to come see the amazing view of the Brooklyn Bridge from his dorm room and she would happily oblige.
Walking into the front lobby of 1 Pace Plaza, Zachary nodded at the security guards who returned a smirk and a subtle shake of their heads. He lived for these small exchanges, these small stamps of reluctant approval from the men who went along with his routine every night.
Towards the beginning of his freshman year, they used to stop him and make him sign each guest in with a photo ID, but they grew to appreciate his craftiness and simply let him escort a new woman into the building every night.
The girl next to him gave a small wave to the security guards and a smile. Pete, the security guard who usually high fived Zachary as he walked the girls out of the building, had a peculiar look on his face. Zachary assumed it was due to the wave his date had given them. Usually the girls he brought in avoided eye contact with the guards and followed him to his room. This girl seemed different.
Tara, she had said her name was, lived “somewhere downtown” but hadn’t specified a location, and Zachary hadn’t pressed her. After all, he didn’t need to know where she lived, or even her last name. She was just his partner for this Thursday night, or rather, she was Jackson’s partner for the night.
He had told her that he was a New York native, which couldn’t have been further from his true upbringing in Miami. He couldn’t quite remember where she said she was from, but that didn’t bother him. It was always easier when there was no emotional attachment.
Tara walked confidently toward the elevators, and Zachary wondered if she had been to the building before. Maybe she was friends with a student, or had a previous rendezvous with another tenant of the dorm tower. Either way, he didn’t want to know.
The elevator was heavy with tension, and Zach wondered if the pressure would cause the doors to pop open while rising.
A ding signaled their arrival at the 14th floor, and Zach again morphed into Jackson, opening the door for Tara, ever the gentleman. Her eyes widened as she saw the glowing lights from the city below. “Wow, this view really is romantic. How did you say you got this room again?”
Zach shifted his weight between his feet. He caught himself and steadied his nerves.
“It’s my friend’s place, I’m just watching it for him while he’s gone.” Jackson answered coolly. She nodded, seeming satisfied with his answer. Zach chuckled internally at her admiration of the view, knowing she would never see the room again after this night.
Jimmy silker Sep 2024
I shook hands with Joe Gideon
And high fived the shark
After a forest performance
In which they had rocked hard

The beauty of his voice and words
The slickness o her grooves
Soaked into me sonically
And caused the earth to move

Their world is so inviting
As at the barrier i stand
They'll take you on a journey
To learn the ways of man.
Brian Rihlmann Aug 2018
I was fifteen,
Jersey boy, displaced
from green suburbia
to a sagebrush sea.

I tried to drop my accent,
got a job at a horse ranch
shoveling ****,
wore cowboy boots.

Finally made a friend
in that dirt road valley,
taught me to sideways slide
and countersteer,
joyriding his mother's car
down rough roads
we shouldn’t be on,
sparks flying,
rocks bouncing
off the undercarriage.

And he had guns too,
pistols and rifles.
We hiked up into the hills,
shot at rusty
abandoned cars,
empty beer cans
or anything
that crawled
slithered or hopped.

Killing that jackrabbit
was a lucky shot.
I got him right through the eye
with a 22, on the fly,
just for fun.

We laughed
and high fived
as that black crater
in his head
did not stare at us
from the dusty ground.

I was in.
Anthropomorphic test device to explore
amply, cheaply tricked out with super tramping,
albeit unsophisticated trappings ceiling to floor
(available for purchase at Dollar store)
nonetheless unmanned spacecraft made
perfect landing upon alien nation i.e. red

planet's moon Phobos, meanwhile corps
engineers back at the ranch (nondescript
building) hi-fived each other perfect score
housed astrophysicists who didst monitor
remote control desktop exhaling relief for

misplaced anticipatory
uneasy tense premature
panic/fear transferred
figurative reins more
or less to onboard robots

re: exchanged pleasant bonjour
all around - as mission
impossible (most swore
could not be pulled off
without a hitch) successful procedure
to launch humanoid cargo spurred roar

as international teammates
(former rivals) just recently at war
liberated mutual accolades did reassure
each other, abe linkedin pact enterprise
predicated - regarding good rapport
witnessed courtesy delicate

present endeavor bore
invariably promised cheers galore
since assignment on shoestring budget,
would reap bajillions to sponsor
manned near future
outer space excursion hefty price tag

guaranteed state of the art - fourscore
and seven years ago proclaimed
men/women analogous
to pioneers of yore
solar system the new "wild west"
since Earth hereinbefore

now did offer, testimony tour
ring outer limits twilight zone
no way Jose extempore
modus operandi ditched
humanity to pollinate cosmos
ghost of Carl Sagan
would applaud as fitting encore.
Anthropomorphic test device to explore
amply, cheaply tricked out
with super tramping,
albeit unsophisticated trappings
strewn ceiling to floor
available for purchase at Dollar store
(actually merchandise
cost more than 100 pennies)
nonetheless unmanned spacecraft made
perfect landing upon alien nation i.e. red
planet's moon Phobos, meanwhile corps
engineers back at the ranch (nondescript
building) hi-fived each other perfect score

housed astrophysicists who didst monitor
remote control desktop exhaling relief for
misplaced anticipatory
uneasy tense premature
panic/fear transferred
figurative reins more
or less to onboard robots
re: exchanged pleasant bonjour
all around - as mission
impossible (most swore
could not be pulled off
without a hitch) successful procedure
to launch humanoid cargo spurred roar

as international teammates
(former rivals) just recently at war
liberated mutual accolades did reassure
each other, abe linkedin pact enterprise
predicated - regarding good rapport
witnessed courtesy delicate
present endeavor bore
invariably promised cheers galore
since assignment on shoestring budget,
would reap bajillions to sponsor
manned near future
outer space excursion hefty price tag
guaranteed state of the art – fourscore

and seven years ago proclaimed
men/women analogous
to pioneers of yore
solar system the new "wild west"
since Earth hereinbefore
now did offer, testimony tour
ring outer limits twilight zone
no way José extempore
modus operandi ditched
humanity to pollinate cosmos
ghost of Carl Sagan
would applaud as fitting encore.
Abby Jan 23
I wanted 11:11
But I think that's feeling too much
You're not my constellation
You're pretty cool
Just not my psychedelic cluster.

I'd sacrifice everything for you
And if people talk ****
I'll back you up in a half assed heartbeat, there's nights for us everywhere but not in shining armour.

Russet roulette
Parked in your Cadillac
On speaker with the guys, I love you all like brothers, high fived not by blood but by pact.

— The End —