Exclusive Ink

Category: Poetry

  • DEFINE LOVE

    by DAEZY

    A train wreck or mass emotion
    Collides with the feeling of
    Emptiness held deep within the
    Rainbow of colors within your eyes

    If you channel it, you will sink to your demise.
    Lift your head to your heart
    And find the key to
    Your hidden emotion

    You know?
    The one you keep
    Locked away, like money in a safe
    And treasure, buried in a dead landscape

    You know what I’m talking about!
    It’s the thing you call love!
    The one you abuse,
    The one you say you treasure, but just

    Throw away, and take for granted.
    You know?
    “Age ain’t nothing but a number, and the game ain’t
    Nothing but a thing?”

    That’s how you’re lured into
    The trap of an evil
    So powerful and vile
    It becomes an addiction

    That you won’t break, no matter
    How hard you try.
    You want it.
    You need it.

    The harder you fall,
    The harder it is to return from
    The deep bright pit of
    Illusion you call love.

    Love?
    It’s a word.
    It’s an emotion.
    It’s a sickness.

    We love it,
    But love,
    Hates
    Us.

  • WHAT IF?

    by BENJI

    What if the skies were white, and the clouds were blue?
    What if you could relive every moment, just like it were new?
    What if no one ever hated, and everyone was loved?
    What if you could fly, and touch the heavens above.

    What if you had the remote to your life.
    Rewind to a baby, or fast-forward to a wife.
    What if everyone was honest, and no one ever lied.
    What we could see all our lost veterans. What if soldiers never died.

    What if the one that you loved never hurt you.
    What if every promise they made actually went through.
    What if guys looked at you for you,Instead of looking at your clothes,
    Only seeing through.

    What if people weren’t ignorant, and we all knew,
    That your education is more important than buying your new shoes.
    What if violence is stupid, and really isn’t the answer.
    What if Hitler was Marley, and never built a Panzer.

    What if you could win a war with a poem.
    Hero’s battling with stanzas, I wish I could know ‘em.
    What if this poem never ended, it just became a work in progress.
    I can think about that later, but now I must regress.

  • I’M SORRY FOR YOUR IGNORANCE

    by ALYSSA

    Verdammt Dich!
    I’m sorry,
    but I’d rather not argue
    with some one half of my IQ.
    The way I fight,
    you’re guaranteed to lose.
    It’s a battle of wits,
    but you came unarmed.
    When this conversation started,
    no one meant you any harm.

    We came to talk about school,
    but then you came in,
    because you thought you were cool;
    Guess what:
    you’re not smart.
    I’m sorry; ‘s that your ignorance showing?
    Don’t even start.
    You’ve got stereotypes down to a fine art,
    and on behalf
    of all the people you claimed were represented,
    I apologize for this daft,
    rude,
    lowlife who’s so crude.

    Verdammt Dich!
    I’m sorry,
    but I’d rather not argue
    with some one half of my IQ.
    The way I fight,
    you’re guaranteed to lose.
    It’s a battle of wits,
    but you came unarmed.
    When this conversation started,
    no one meant you any harm.

    You thought you’d be impressing your friends
    by “intelligently” addressing a trend
    in my behavior

    “…brown-nosing nerdy white bitch – no one cares about you…”
    ah,
    but how untrue
    There’s a difference between brown-nosing and being polite
    and a difference between bitching and knowing what’s right.
    You may say no one cares about me,
    but you’re just looking for a fight,
    and besides,
    I’ll always love me,
    so I don’t care.
    As for being white,
    let make you wiser for wear.
    You may find specificity is key here:
    I
    am
    Mexican, Russian, German, Native American, and Irish.
    Half of this ‘white’ background of mine isn’t really Anglo,
    and they share suffering and pain through history
    as every other race,
    because they all have a story:
    Mexican workers movement
    Soviet Union
    Hitler’s Oppression,
    Trail of tears,
    “Before the Irish Became White”,
    anything ring a bell?!

    No?
    Of course not I shouldn’t think so highly.
    Ugh!

    I guess my point is just
    that to me,
    it’s still a mystery
    why you use your ancestor’s history
    as an excuse for your foolish strife,
    as a reason to hold on to racism
    when we just want to let it go.
    No,
    I won’t fight you,
    and further than this,
    I won’t spite you.
    (mostly because it’s a waste of breath)
    I just want you to know that you’re hurting yourself,
    not resolving the conflict we came here for.

  • NOT PERFECT

    by ALYSSA

    This is my Earth,
    and I live in it.
    it’s big and round and travels at an amazing pace best felt near the Ocean.
    It’s big and full of idiots and geniuses,
    of craziness and calm,
    and of beauty and the contrary.
    This is my planet.
    It’s where I’ll spend a vast majority of my life.
    It’s not perfect,
    but it’s mine.

    This is my country,
    and I live in it.
    It’s pretty big,
    and it’s ruled by fools,
    but it’s free and beautiful the same.
    This is my country,
    where I spend the vast majority of my time.
    It’s not perfect,
    but it’s mine.

    This is my school,
    it’s been through a lot,
    like an old marching sock,
    and it’s starting to change from my home.
    This is my school.
    It’s where I spend a vast majority of my time.
    It’s not perfect,
    but it’s mine.

    This is my body,
    and I try to change it,
    but it doesn’t say a thing about me.
    It doesn’t always work like I want it to.
    This is my body.
    It’s where I spend a vast majority of my time.
    It’s not perfect,
    but it’s mine.

    This is my mind.
    It’s where all my crazy ideas and plans are hatched,
    where all your hideous cruelty is seen and matched,
    and it’s where I can hide,
    with my best friends:
    me myself and I.
    This is my mind.
    It’s where I spend a vast majority of my time.
    It’s not perfect,
    but it’s mine.

  • POPULARITY

    by DAEZY

    I tried.
    Sometimes I think I try too hard,
    but Hell,
    I try don’t I?

    I work my way down
    to worse than scum on the bottom of your shoe.
    I work my way up,
    and my trying leaves me feeling blue.

    My 20/20 glasses broke,
    so now I’m stuck a 20/40 lazy eyed,
    but you look at me and say,
    “Damn, she’s got pretty eyes!”

    I tweet what I ate for breakfast
    not because I like,
    but just because I’m mindless.
    And like my mind controlled drones, you follow.

    I’m sucked deep into an abyss of
    attention and bliss.
    But the sad thing about it is,
    I hate what I’ve become.

    You follow who I’m listening too,
    what I’m wearing,
    what I’m eating,
    and if I’m sharing.

    But in the end, what have you become?
    Mindless, like me.
    So I re-begin the journey to work my way BACK to scum.
    Why?

    Because I LIKE being a reject!
    Because I LIKE being able to be myself!
    Because I LIKE having true friends!
    BECAUSE I LIKE ME!

    I’m your four-eyed nerd.
    Your wrack-a-doodle poindexter.
    Your scummy shoe, and
    YOUR WORST NIGHTMARE!

    Besides,
    It’s always the quiet
    ones you have to
    look out for.