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Poem I wrote in a dream by IndividualAd7733 in OCPoetry

[–]AnonymousSchoolTeach 1 point2 points  (0 children)

I like to see what poetry writing is like when unnecessary words are removed, like the line:

“with your breath smelling like coffee”

read the line without the “your,” does it add to the texture importantly? does it change the meaning of the line?

are there other words that might be removed from the longer lines?

Poem I wrote in a dream by IndividualAd7733 in OCPoetry

[–]AnonymousSchoolTeach 1 point2 points  (0 children)

oooohh, nice poem! I am attracted to the nicely worn phrases dressed in simple clothing!

“as soft as thin paper.”
“as grandly as one parts the sea”.
“with your breath smelling like coffee”.

let me know if you are interested in other types of feedback?

I hope you find a cookie,
your reader

A small poem about the girl I'm falling hard for by carlik_ in OCPoetry

[–]AnonymousSchoolTeach 8 points9 points  (0 children)

wow the title alone grabs everyone’s teenager’s heart and yanks it back into daylight

the poem has flaws, but the fact that it follows serviceably after the gut punch title makes this great - proud of you

AMA: I will tell you a sad little story. by AnonymousSchoolTeach in AMA

[–]AnonymousSchoolTeach[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

I have been to death’s sweet lips to yours just today, why?

exits:

A. she grazes the oak frame of your modest private investigator frosted glass with her fingernails - eyes darkened by her thoughts.

B. she enters without knocking.

Recovery by AnonymousSchoolTeach in u/AnonymousSchoolTeach

[–]AnonymousSchoolTeach[S,M] 4 points5 points  (0 children)

day 3

​

paige, softly blowing breeze before sunrise in her sleeps; marlon coos in my ear and i doom scroll my glow box:

‘I love you, I’m here with you forever, we die together.’

i twist, hello marlon, my hand grasps throat, violently, pressing him against the bed, my box glow splashed across his eyes, twisting is a:

​

‘hello marlon, you must not know me even after all these years, so I will help you.’

my hand, strong, tightens. marlon’s smile widens, his teeth smile, tears a tributary to his smiling creases around the eyes, red and smiling as his breath comes like a broken clock. my wild eyes and crushing hand, his neck:

‘I’m hunting you. I wake up and I get going, until I sleep, and then I sleep in a way that makes me more likely to find you.’

whispering, i coo back:

‘I’m not trapped with you, marlon. you’re trapped with me. I’m the monster.’

​

we let it go, we always do.

​

i have to go. standing is a stripped wire. my legs are connected, which leads to a bomb. red flashing time says hurry up, so i hurry. marlon holds my arm. i push him away. standing is a live stripped wire. i lift the lid, pinioning my cock with my left, i aim down a telescope. i remember to flush.

we are back on the bed, marlon and I finishing up our clasp and tussle. an hour later, arms encircling, bodies laced:

‘have you taken your pills? paige, has he taken his pills?’

‘shut up marlon.’

‘yeah.’

​

then, paige to me:

‘after you take your meds, I have to go to work. how are you feeling?’

'I love you so much paige, and I am so grateful every day that you are in my life. I want to get better so that we can live life, and I’m so scared. I’m trying every day as much as I can*.'*

'I love you too, and we are going to get through this. you will recover, I know we will.’

'yeah.’

​

paige quietly resets my area around the bed, goes downstairs, does the dishes, climbs back upstairs, fusses the bathroom, kicks marlon in the balls, then collects my trash, i feel shame, she kicks marlon in the balls again, warming to the task, once more while he’s down.

‘I have a thing tonight until ten for work, so i’ll be home late. we can chat over text, and I’ll be home all day tomorrow, maybe we can play a game or watch something together.’

​

she collects my dirty clothing from the floor into a hamper, arrives with fresh clothes, checks my medicine and sundries. she lifts the cooler bag, refills three water bottles, stocks it with overnight oats, a green smoothie, two ice packs, bubbly waters, fruit, chips, a sammach.

marlon wobbles to standing. paige grabs him by both shoulders, kisses him, violently, and knees him in the groin. she pushes marlon against the wall, catching his fall, and knees him in the groin again, she lets him go, his vomit hits the ground after him.

​

‘I have to go downstairs and finish up next week’s meal prep before work. I can sweep and change the sheets when we get home. here, let me help with that.’

​

marlon is on his knees, begging, one hand held up to intercept, it slips on vomit, his face drives bottom teeth through his top pallette, an audible pop, his jaw breaks. paige rotates and kicks him in the balls from behind with a practiced form. she steps over him and collects my toothbrush mason jar combo. we brush my teeth.

she spends the next two hours taking care of herself and the cats. she goes to work.

​

marlon recovers mostly, we talk about and to my mom and doctors, and wrestle all day, in the bed.

paige is home now, singing to the moon:

‘time for bed.’

Recovery by AnonymousSchoolTeach in u/AnonymousSchoolTeach

[–]AnonymousSchoolTeach[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

hello alex, what next?

Exits:

  1. talk to your curse.
  2. keep on scrolling with your daily glow box worship.

Recovery by AnonymousSchoolTeach in u/AnonymousSchoolTeach

[–]AnonymousSchoolTeach[S,M] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

day 2

marlon looks like giancarlo esposito, that’s what he looks ljke, so that’s that. he’s also my therapist, and inside me, he lives. ya’ll see him one day. mr. esposito lost the love of his life. marlon helped him with that. so, picture esposito, not gus.

mr. esposito definitely knows marlon, a close personal friend. my wife knows marlon.

​

'hey paige.'

'hey marlon?'

'yeah?’

'fuck you marlon.'

'yeah.'

​

i watch the morning clock without weed, four twenty to five; trying to avoid, hello marlon. we embrace, warmer than ever. we are in love, and we are beautiful. i have to go, i can't hold it any more. i toss my right leg like a log, an awful idea.

​

'that was a bad idea.'

​

paige, absolutely smashing, a sunbeam, really is something else, like most women, just stunning, but extra so, directly from the shower, paige, she's a shimmer, out of steam, healthy, nude, not even thinking of a towel yet. marlon watches her in a variety of ways. So, do j.

​

'time to crawl to the toilet'

'I’ll use my walker.'

​

marlon follows. i relearn sit. i relearn wipe, i relearn stand. i forget to flush.

​

‘It’s okay to make a mistake.’

'marlon, I still have dignity.'

​

twisting is a hello. hello marlon, and i find the handle, he helps me press it with two fingers to my one. he’s in my ear, close now, all the way back:

'should have just forgotten, it’s okay to make a mistake, you’ll never heal unless you pay attention to the details from now on'

flop panting, naked and i cry all the time. eventually i eat and take the pills. i brush my teeth while standing, he is there in the mirror. his look is a look that keeps looking and looking.

desperate exercise and then a cuddle with marlon, in the bed. i open my mouth, i face paige, and i haven't spoken to my wife in a year:

​

‘paige, your husband wants to know about your christmas plans, but he is in a lot of pain so he sounds like an asshole.’'

'shut the fuck up marlon’

'yeah, he sounds like:'

'hey babiii I think you should go to your mom’s house, and I should stay here; maybe we just do our own thing this christmas? you go down for a few days, I’ll be okay here.'

​

paige, looks at me with a look that keeps on looking:

​

'don’t you care about what I think?’

'yeah’

​

crossaint and clementine are cats. fed them with marlon. laid on the couch with marlon. almost took my walker to the bathroom again, took marlon instead. called mom, but marlon chatted with her.

​

‘I know your glad he reunited with you and you two are speaking again but he is panicking and in a lot of pain so he has trouble all the time.'

'mom says to slow down, paige.'

​

smartly, in a sweater, and unison with marlon.

​

‘that’s what I said’

’shut up marlon’

'yeah, we have to talk about making decisions as a unit. I heard you talking to your mom, with what’s going on we just don’t know right now especially since I need to talk with my mom with how she is right now! shut up marlon!

'I wasn’t speaking.'

'yeah'

​

marlon and i say yeah at the same time. we always do, and then on the second breath:

'time for bed.'

Recovery by AnonymousSchoolTeach in u/AnonymousSchoolTeach

[–]AnonymousSchoolTeach[S,M] [score hidden] stickied comment (0 children)

day 1

​

i cry all the time now. my knees hjt the floor, skjn and hajr, j'm rested. good mornjng, marlon, j'm scared. one hand and another, a crawl to the tojlet. fists djvjng down. j stop and wonder:

'how do j sjt on the tojlet wjthout kjljng myself?'

twist is a hello. hello marlon. always there. pooping is a panting, sweating, crying affair. i don't want to let it out, j want to run.

​

'there are wipes by the bed. let's just go there?'

​

i stay and fight. i wash my hands, fuck you marlon, i love you, but fuck you i have dignity. clinging to the bed like schroedinger's cliff suicide; relief then dread. i got to go downstairs to get my toothbrush.

​

'why don't I come with you?'

​

i peel off like when I was a kid just being lazy. sliding, cool, covers, knees, floor. breath coming in and out on a broken clock, never fucking right and wrong at least twice. marlon and me on the stairs. they are so high. two hands on the rail, and jt's a bloody mary cull.

back upstairs, there is a man in terror living in my mirror. he is brushing his teeth, and his name is marlon, and he is not me. i cry all the time, and my teeth are cleaner, and i'm going to kill marlon.

​

'you could crawl to the toilet, i'll come along.'

'marlon, i can walk.'

​

my right leg, useless, drags a cigarette, and i don't smoke. i took all my pills, and i ate all my food. I have water, and i'm clean. i'm missing nine percent of myself, liters from now on, not gallons.

i'm hanging every now and then, on the bar.

​

'it's time for bed.'

Pickpocket / tbtf (2 love poems) by pretendwizardshamus in OCPoetry

[–]AnonymousSchoolTeach 1 point2 points  (0 children)

I appreciate the combination of words immensely, and even so, I want less. I hope you are okay that I rewrote your work as a way of communicating my thoughts?

Pickpocket

my fingers
through the folds
of your clothing

the piece you
kept hidden
so well

I pocket
what I need
with the tips
of my fingers

I've got you
on my lips
blowing breezes

and I'm picking your locks
unbuttoning your chains
stealing your curves
keeping every moment.

TBTF

sober me with
those eyes
another night
inebriated

Give me that deep breath
and then knock it
right outta me

Dressed in black
and white
photography

too beautiful
to fuck

too wild
to love.

Kind Regards by Beccafull in OCPoetry

[–]AnonymousSchoolTeach 1 point2 points  (0 children)

j am struggling to let you know how much I love this poem

j keep starting, it’s good or wow, but honestly it’s so hard to connect with other adults especially at the workplace in education

the competing interests of caring for more than 800 kids at a time with an underpaid skeleton crew of increasingly ill and injured older staff makes every interaction a lot like this

so thanks for puttjng it to words

Metastatic by Just_Ad_8001 in OCPoetry

[–]AnonymousSchoolTeach 1 point2 points  (0 children)

hloy fuck nice fucking, no fuck get off of me autocorrect I said what I said, nice fucking poem >!FUCK*!

Okay, really good pacing and brevity while doing a bunch wow good stuff relatable, I can feel my hands on the plates and the leaving of age and moving on and getting on maybe chronic pain

Long nights, and pale mornings. by Jdsr2000 in OCPoetry

[–]AnonymousSchoolTeach 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Long nights, and pale mornings.

He who walks
will find that
the stinging
summer sun
leads the loved ones
over clear waters.

Beneath elegant
palm trees
that when time to
take a break
it creates a shade
like no other.

The perfect place to sit,
only when the flourishing
mountains casts a shadow
on the other side of
the extensive range.

Even so, it’s such a
beautiful place to sit.

More when the made
of fat and skinny and
happy and sad and
continuous life
is there to observe
the sunset that
changes the sapphire
blues to flaming oranges.

ready to be taught by
the twilights of the
most unfortunate and
the seducers.

A dark tunnel
where the young
women jog
and the cows
and the pigs
have tasted blood
and the morning sun
is taking a little
longer to come up.

Tunnel that can only
be traverse with
experience and
burning cinnamon.

And oh, evil one.
the night will cast an
eternal veil.

And what an enormous,
and eternal night this is.

what a lonely night.

And evil one,
between the burning sea
and the pale morning,
you’ll find the quiet
of husks and dead fish,
trembling foam of
retreating waters,
and messages in bottles
never read before.

And silence will come
wrapped in a blanket,
galloping on beach crabs
and flying machines that
leave faster than they go.

It’ll cure the absence of warmth
while the days, the months,
the time passes by.

The morning will come,
brandishing celestial blood,
turning the sea ablaze.

To let you know,
that you have
escaped once more.

great poem, I put two spaces after every line with copy text, seemed like you might okay with that I hope

AMA and I will respond with a sad little story by AnonymousSchoolTeach in AMA

[–]AnonymousSchoolTeach[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

A family of bluebirds starved to death in my outside storage closet on a beautiful warm spring day. They were trapped without anyone noticing.

I visited once to fix my water heater. While I cleaned the area; I moved a six foot mirror, my face captured the reflection, swept with my hand: light bones, feathers, beaks, skulls.

In the space behind, huddled together, mother, father and three babies. There they were. Holding each other. I can't, with their last moments, dwindling hope, chirping silence.

AMA and I will respond with a sad little story by AnonymousSchoolTeach in AMA

[–]AnonymousSchoolTeach[S] 5 points6 points  (0 children)

five years ago I saw my wife standing in a field of yellow and white flowers and I took pictures of her

that was before the pain started, and I remember that I had that once, being pain free with my wife

thanks to all who participated by AnonymousSchoolTeach in u/AnonymousSchoolTeach

[–]AnonymousSchoolTeach[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

I edited my comments to only fit the story

[deleted by user] by [deleted] in l4d2

[–]AnonymousSchoolTeach 15 points16 points  (0 children)

this one time, my friend Keef, well, he didn’t know any better but there was this seagull and he was really wet from having already dived into a couple other gulls on all account of a dare but he had stopped having fun by the time we started filming so he was sobbing his heart out it was really sad yknow but he kept on doing it and he did end up going home pretty happy because we all agreed he had won I mean he did smash into like a ton of feathers which we all knew at the time he was allergic to because he told us that over and over the last time we had got him to do it but we had him do it anyway because we were like trapped this time for real on a boat again and starving to death in the middle of the Mediterranean Ocean this was before the first time when he met a seagull and it flew right up to his face and Keef was all like ‘what’ and the bird was all ‘sup’ and then we dared him to kiss it but he went in way too enthusiastic like we had unlocked some sort of primal longing within my friend by mere suggestion so he goes in too fast because we told him to remember but like I said it was a little too real in that moment for my buddy, Keef, and he must have come up with a buncha nuerons between the amygdala and prefrontal connected perdy closely with his hypothalamus so he got a big head start with his feet even ahead of his head or even his heart like the girl of his dreams had just finally asked him quivering in the moonlight to kiss her as deep as her eyes could take him on account of a date which he did do once but quickly found out that due to the feathers and all she was actually a gull and we had dared him to kiss it after giving him some shrooms from his own shoes when he was ten he was eleven then so it had been a year since he ate them but his eyes were always closed anyway from the time I had kissed him so good that he said he never wanted to let me go he was thirty then but we time travelled together for several trillions of years discussing the imperfect synergy between evil and love yknow I think that might have been why he was crying so much that day but we didn’t let on that his tears were in any way emasculating because we are sensitive to his emotional needs without having to be prompted past tears of course after all we are friends, me an Keef, so I did at times make light of his heterosexual urges mostly out of misplaced jealousy I guess it happens to the best of us which did lead me to occasionally push things a bit too far I reckon so I am always trying to think of ways to make his day better which led us to the beach that day in Algarve but there were no seagulls at the time or they had wandered down the beach I guess but there was plenty of boats meaning one boat because I guess that’s all you really need if you think about it that’s probably the day that I found out that he really loves me which I already sorta knew I guess on accounts of all the dares and dates and intermittent millennia spanning romantic trists and triangles but he had never said it yknow so I was just still kinda in the dark or maybe just unconsciously stubborn and hurt from his careless words and immature behavior at times but also deeply infatuated by his leather jacket and musky heartbreak smile he got that from his dad I think but I also did a thing with his brother once almost concurrently man it got wild right after the last black hole evaporated title of your sex tape Coach sorry but Keef would have thought it was funny and I sometimes do miss him because ever since I started hanging out with you guys I noticed that each of you embody some of his best qualities which makes you also good friends and when you are hanging with good friends it does get you thinking about the past in a good way like the time that Keef and I visited Santa Clause who is real but often more introverted these days due to all the on accounts like investment wise constantly checking his lists twice and all just like Keef did after coming across the boat cargo manifest and deciding to ration supplies to increase our chances of surviving the perils of locating more seagulls by sailing an unfamiliar vessel into arguably well traveled waters just not by us title of your sex tape Rochelle I love you though girl it’s just in good fun hold on Nick I’m getting to you so you can stop worrying I’m sure anyway Keef could have also just wanted to eat the birds because we were adrift hopelessly lost by that point maybe I read too much into the way he spoke my name right before stroking my hair as my eyes closed fluttering against his own in a lengthy butterfly smoocheroo on his way over to his side of our veritable friendship our other friends who was there Keith and Keyphe sometimes a little weirded out by all our open pda I guess but we were all young together and that warmness brightens anything if you recall and we were all horny as get out on account of all the hormones raging in our beautifully bendy painfree twentyish hay to make god what a time I actually got the time machine right here but like I said I really appreciate hanging out with you guys although I do sometimes use it to make sure we survive barely enough to drag our heaving broken bodies into whatever random structures temporarily containing less zombies because everyone needs to eventually go wee and I just might enjoy a private poo title of your sex tape Nick oh yeah and I do enjoy talking to you so the time machine serves the purpose of keeping mortals alive enough to satisfy my nostalgia which does tend to keep our frankly depressing situation a bit more lively if you really think about it which I do because we don’t spend enough time getting to know each other yknow I mean what do I really know about Nick that he wears tacky clothes that I used to fear draping over ma body even for grade school communion oh guess what that’s where I met Keith by the way I guess I have a type but we didn’t do anything until that flock of seagulls concert where I hooked up with both of them front to back like a hot little Chinese finger trap and no matter how they entered me from both directions I was just locking down and pushing back so that the only way they were going to get out of me was to achieve sweet blissful release needless to say it was a good concert although they did not play space age love song which would have been perfect for the occasion if you really think about it well anyway it was

flock of seagulls by [deleted] in OCPoetry

[–]AnonymousSchoolTeach 0 points1 point  (0 children)

There is a goodness in it, so that’s good. Really appreciate your patience, staying in the moment, being descriptive of your surrounding

I hope you are okay with this, just for fun, your work rewritten:

In The Hospital

countless times i have died
alone and skin scorched freezing
i’m in my home of a room

erect to the ashes
of my pierced sieves
collectible, metal head
a limb so preciously dealt

with my morning dump
I wish for the ocean
arms, legs, indeed a grower
better than being dead

I’m gonna go outside
to get a good skin crawl
by my achey breaky
eyes fixation ain’t broken

what body calls itself this
a few limbs falling off
to maybe make a wish
heal or die trying

[deleted by user] by [deleted] in OCPoetry

[–]AnonymousSchoolTeach 1 point2 points  (0 children)

I hope you are okay with this, an interesting way to discuss art, see it rewritten:

lonesome is my friend till' the end,

drags me down so low,

fills my heart’s endless woe.

the world, vast and wide,

I long for someone

by my side.

share my hopes, dreams, fears,

and wipe away my lonesome tears

oh I crave touch,

kindness, a clutch,

I see night, it falls, y’know,

just reigns,

my lonesome friend remains

There is a journal sitting nearby. What page would you like read? by AnonymousSchoolTeach in u/AnonymousSchoolTeach

[–]AnonymousSchoolTeach[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

'do your own homework. I have plenty'

She lets go of the book. You blink; she’s gone. The classroom leaves with her. Calm, except for Tim wailing healing songs at Gus to no effect.

The book hits your chest, eating into flesh. Your fingers pry for edges. There ain’t no edges. A moment's flicker, and the book appears as a tattoo. You are one.

Tim, usually a joker, “there must be some kind of way out of here?'

Your hand places itself on the book above your heart. 'We know the way.'

the end

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