single, f, 16
and counting, much to my
displeasure. i look less like
lucy liu and more like the hair
on your knuckles. my name
means conch shell,
a cheap imitation
of the sea. i'm a scorpio
but i hate the color red.
in my past life, i was definitely
an elevator; spent 8 years
shouting "heyyou!" at my neighbor
as we whooshed past each other,
once fit thirty-some poor souls
in my womb and knew
all their stories.
single, f, 16
and seeking anyone
with a sweet tooth
or extraordinary kindness.
anyone to stay up with me all night
and tell me that i am not my mother,
that calamine is just the trick
for mosquito bites
and that he will
open me
or die trying --
anyone to kiss away
my soldered mouth,
to ask the right questions,
to smell like rising bread and let me
lie there beside him
with nothing to say
but the whole world to grieve.
single, f, 16,
as transient as hunger.
wondering if i should just straighten up and scream
I AM A POET.
FUCK YOU.
AND I
am terribly, terribly alone
and risk not getting
any calls.
Author notes
i do believe desperation and good poetry are inversely correlated.
slightly, almost inspired by "personal" - stars
and for your entertainment, some funny british personals
A contest entry
- a contest for those people who hate most of the contests posted by divebar.
20000 points, ended October 11, 31 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
because i am your doormat
Comments
1 - 21 of 21
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omg. when i read this i was like "this sounds like stars"
once fit thirty-some poor souls
in my womb and knew
all their stories.
i like that part. a lot.
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This is absolutely amazing. It's a bit funny, but underneath there's this edge of sadness, the kind people feel when something in their life has been ripped.
I love the ending. I feel like you've just found the perfect words for the emotion I keep trying to get rid of. And it's not captured, per se. You didn't put a cage around it, you just showed us how it reflects into a broken beer bottle on the side of the road.
Really extraordinary.
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thanks! haha. even your comment was poetic.
i had to point that out. -
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Well, Your poetry inspires poetic comments.
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"and counting, much to my displeasure."
You're so much wittier than you give yourself credit for.
"a cheap imitation of the sea."
Oh yes - share a cool fact, then totally rip it. I love it.
"in my past life, i was definitely
an elevator; spent 8 years
shouting "heyyou!" at my neighbor
as we whooshed past each other,
once fit thirty-some poor souls
in my womb and knew
all their stories."
Holy fuck.
Apart from being comedic, this is just so ... you. Well-written and all those things I associate with you and poetry.
"sweet tooth or extraordinary kindness."
Dig those 2 things paired together.
"anyone to stay up with me all night
and tell me that i am not my mother,"
You fuck with my psychological mind.
I love it.
That last one with its honesty and hilarity ... how often we want to speak in capitalizedness ... people think I do it a lot already, but really, if they knew how much was restrained ...
god, is everything carnal?
;
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what a neat format! i liked the Elevator bit. It's quite effective.
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spent 8 years
shouting "heyyou!" at my neighbor
as we whooshed past each other
- that made me smile in that perfect coffee kind of way.
the last lines.. i can relate.
this is great.
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in my past life, I was a shower curtain.
love this, suna. -
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where have you been all my life/the past few months?!
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hey, I was chez you a couple of weeks ago. you are very elusive, my dear.
how are you doing? -
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and you (and draelos) have awful timing.
still taken, f, almost 17. yourself? -
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single, f, 17, as you know. (I'm glad you and theo are still together, the first line made me wonder.)
still making songs out of your poems, love -
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whee. you'd better credit me on your first CD.
now, m'dear, prepare for a delicate question:
what about you and...? >_> -
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*is prepared* (funny, I thought he'd already told you)
it's dead. not to get into details, but the bare bones is that shit happened, he left fast, and it's probably better that way.
I'm not upset, surprisingly. guilford boys: yes. how are you and theo?
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heh. nah, i haven't talked to him in a while, either. he's quite the pansyass, isn't he?
YAY college boys.
oh, us? we're good. for a spell, i had the sneaking suspicion that we were about to break up but then we definitely didn't. roomie and i, on the other hand, haven't talked for two weeks. oh well. -
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I love when you say "pansyass"
not talking roomies! bad chi, my friend. make up, you two.
and I'm glad about theo. you write such lovely poetry about him.
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wow, this is brilliant and so different from anything else I've read.
I love it.
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the first youtube link didn't work for me :/ i don't know if others will experience that problem also.
i really love this. i would call whomever it was that posted such an incredible thing in a singles ad. for sure.
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it should work now!
haha. i have a feeling that the people who might enjoy this poem do not regularly check the singles ads. :/
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creative, interesting, and wonderfully original.
fresh writing, that feels so contemporary.
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love this.
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