Anonymous Poetry

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Jul 23

Ten months later

You used to call me lesbian and perverted.

At the time, I dismissed it, because I thought I was straight.

Now, ten months later, I realize you were partially right.

You used to call me lucky and untalented.

At the time, I dismissed it, because I had enough confidence to ignore you.

Now, ten months later, I wonder if you were right…

Someday Soon

The smoke is gone,

That choked my lungs

And veiled my eyes,

And tried to stop

My beating heart.

The smoke is gone.

Blown forever off,

By a cool wind.

The wind of life.

The wind: Your voice.

The smoke is gone,

And now I breathe.

So I take your hand,

And then we walk…

Together down the path,

On the road to someday soon.


Silly Poetic Exercise to Cheer Me (improved version)

A cricket was chirping for luck,

Inside of my blue pickup truck,

So I took it fishin’

As a bass’s nutrition,

But it quickly jumped into the muck.

I stood and I gaped, thunderstruck,

I thought to myself, “Dang, I suck,

My brain I been fryin’

So that cricket went flyin’

I can’t even hold onto a buck.”

Three things from this limerick to pluck,

'Cause, for any more verses, I'm stuck: …

Crickets are quite slimy,

The word: “cricket“‘s not rhymey,

But, boy, can I rhyme the word: yuck.

mpg - smile


Pleasant Dreams

Awaken with me, you sleeper

Come out of the slumber

that has trapped you in its grip


Leave your place of safety

and enter my world

to face the day


Awaken, you sleeper,

from your pleasant dreams

of happy times and the sweet sunshine

that warms your face and holds your heart


Tread into the life

you were born to live

and embrace the melancholy

of the time you missed


Awaken, deep sleeper

to my breath on your face

and the whisper of words

you do not want to hear


Arise from your bed

and leave your safe haven

Follow me into the life

you have been destined to live


Let me in

I found a soul mate

Who I thought was my own

I thought we could last forever

But I know I’m not your no. 1

You’re slipping away

Into the dark

And there’s nothing I can do

I can’t show you the light

If you won’t let me in

I want to show you so much

But I can’t win

I’m trying to keep you safe from what is happening

The reason I’m leaving

I can never tell you

Because it is you





But I’m not

I’m no. 2

But you’re my no. 1

What can I do?

I love you

And I always will

But I can’t stay forever

And I don’t want to leave to prove a point

But if you won’t let me in

I can’t show you the light

distance made me a cynic

when I was younger, I remember filtering
the last bits of verses from my mother’s
everchanging poetry hands;
it was never Rumi -
          the gods for that -
yet it always

not once did I let the sound of
romantic cosmic rays be the only
corporeal tin-can telephone between
          and me

we never wake up thinking “morning”
together, throw time out the window
and laugh at it to the smaller spoon,
make breakfast for a warm
undone side of the bed
or look at the same satellite
at the same time;
          we are segragated by international
          temporal line.

I am a derivative of a derivative of a thought
in the leading event of your today. I am already
your future, your time-traveler somehow
still clueless about the night you have yet
to see, as you are
about the morning I could not have
possibly had with you.

we are
a chronological setback
with an infinite expiration
date, dating back
to the day an implosion rang into
the sky whose shades of blue
cannot see eye
to eye with us now. we can
shut our sights now; there is nothing

we share in the physical world
except the oceans jarring a semicolon
between our sentences. don’t look
above your head for
the orbiting geomobile accessory
for our direction; look for me
with shut eyes and open mouths -

I am so
to you
than the cold,
done side
of your only bed.

(I want to be credited)

Letter to my Lover

I think you’re right. Maybe I am playing games. Maybe I’m just not ready, not like I thought I was. Now I feel like you’re the one playing games. You said that you were changing, trying to adapt to me, but I’m nothing that needs to be adapted to. You really want to know what I thought of Saturday? I thought it would’ve been more special, but then again no one’s first time is. That’s probably why I pushed it to the back of my mind. I didn’t associate what we did with sex and making love. For God’s sake, we were on a couch. That’s not how I wanted it to be, that’s not how I wanted any of it to be. Yeah, we fool around a lot and yeah, I was into it. But only in that moment. Like always, it’s only in that moment that I feel like I’m the only girl in the world and time stops and how I crave more from you and well, all those things I’m supposed to feel. Don’t get me wrong, I really do enjoy the little fun we have. I thought I wanted to take it to the next level, but maybe it’s just lust talking in my ear because that’s not love. Love is supposed to be more sensual, but I don’t feel sensual when your hands are in my pants and we’re in public. I feel dirty. I feel guilty. I feel like my mother raised me better, raised me not to be like her. And even in the “privacy” that’s not really private at all, I still feel like we shouldn’t be doing this. I know I’m not going to get that romantic setting I thought of, how I pictured it to be near a candle lit fire. Let’s just blow out the flame on that candle of dreams that were never meant to be dreamt by anyone, let alone me. You say that we’re meant to be. How come I fear that when I leave you, even for a moment, you’ll do something crazy? I do love you, to death, but should I really feel like every day we’re together might be our last? Why do I have to think about the lost of you, all the crazy things I’d want to do if you’re not here beside me, walking through life with me? Writing this has caused me to change. I’m not planning on letting you read this, I may even delete it. But for my sake, maybe we should slow down. I’m not the game maker anymore. I don’t know whose game I’m supposedly playing in, but I don’t control my next move, not matter how hard I want to. All I ask of you is that you play by the rules.



~This was not written by me, but by a very close friend for me. With love, Bella.~

Taking time to do things that make you understand.

Why I love you and want to take your hand.

I know you’re happy with who you are with.

Just don’t act like these words of mine are a myth.

I think you would be happier with me.

You will never have to worry about jealousy.

I will always make time for you if I’m able

Instead of going out with buddies to a poker table.

You would be my number one priority

And I can promise you will never be the minority.

So will you take this hand of mine?

I can be what you find to be divine.


The Hunt

~This poem was written by a close friend. With love, Bella.~

She has such a pretty smile.

It keeps you feeling good for a while.

She’s very smart in school.

So pretty makes you feel like a fool.

She always likes to play rough.

She doesn’t mind because she’s tough.

She always leaves you wanting more.

 In which drives me insane to the core.

You love her beautiful eyes.

She never has another disguise.

 Who already holds memories.

 Who has beautiful remedies.

She holds a key to things you want.

And who never acts nonchalant.

A pretty girl that you will protect.

A girl that carries so much respect.


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