French Girls in a Brasov Cafe

Let the quiet girl speak
She waits like a goldfish, large parted lips
Gobble up flakes of girlfriends' conversation
In the soft liquid atmosphere, cafe in the rain
Moisture, Heat, Music
Lying like Transylvanian haze upon hardwood

Let the loud one be silent at last
Coloured pigeons scuffle over specks of attention
Pink wings parted under bra straps
In sandals, feet shuffle nervously under the table
Hair Dye, Cards, Earrings
Blending like kaleidescope in gray afternoon

Let them flutter off into the drying street
They hesitate like sparrows on high cable
Make plains for distant rendezvous at the hilltop fort
In a daze, i watch them take off suddenly
Wet Clothes, Eyes, Teacup
Burning like underground coal 'neath the mountain

View sweet_saturn's Full Portfolio

This Girl I Met


I've met this girl online,
she's quite amazing!
This girl I met online,
has put a spell on me.

I have been discovering myself,
not knowing exactly who I am,
but meeting this girl,
has helped me with discovering me.

I've met this girl online,
she's quite amazing!
This girl I met online,
has put a spell on me.

I don't know her offline,
but I truely wish I did,
this girl has made me
quite taken with her.

I've met this girl online,
she's quite amazing!
This girl I met online,
has put a spell on me.

I want this girl,
and wish I knew her
off of the internet,
so we could "get together".

I've met this girl online,
she's quite amazing!
This girl I met online,
has put a spell on me.

The spell this girl
has put on me,
has trapped me
and holds me.

I've met this girl online,
she's quite amazing!
This girl I met online,
has put a spell on me.

I want to get with her,
be right at her side,
I wouldn't leave her ever,
untill she told me to leave.

I've met this girl online,
she's quite amazing!
This girl I met online,
has put a spell on me.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This is a work in progress, but I mean every word of it!

View thisisme789's Full Portfolio

So i Thought

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, or so I though,
Intriguing and amazing were compliments, or so I bought.
That’s just the beginning of what I brought to the table,
Cradle, cuddle, spoon, go as far as to put a “Cutest” label.
Had me the first day I met you which almost didn’t happen,
Except you, made the right choices that day, and that still has me laughin.
Stretched the truth a bit while I was talking but you never knew,
Anxious to say and do all the right things and moves, in order to come through.
I pulled a winner and got the digits from you,
No intentions for anything but to chill cuz I thought you were cool.
That didn’t happen.
Shit, probably the best thing happening so far,
Holding you in my arms, touchin palm to palm, givin me that feisty rawr.
I can’t help but stare into your eyes,
Trace the outline of your lips with my finger, all I want is for you to be happy, so I try.
Butterflies fluttering in my stomach, never really done this, call me nervous,
Utterly insane my senses heighten, call me Inspector Gadget, so observant.
Think of any other names, but one things for sure, you can call me smooth,
Have that personality, low key mellow, ya’ll wish you could.
Other than that, I’m just me, and she just her, plain simple,
Elegantly feeding off each other’s vibes, guess you liked the dimple.
Nothin worse than feelin like something’s lost.
Do work to get it back cuz you say it’s worth it, but at what cost.
Tell yourself it’s gonna work, while others say you is just a sucker,
Rick Rolled your ass like a mother fucker.
Intellectual, sensual ass dude, but she don’t care no more,
Can’t stand two faced bitches, who act different, only at times specific, change once you out the door.
Keep doin what you do tho, everything’s all good,
Shit, this one might be for you tho, or maybe you misunderstood.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Had this for a bit. Time to post..
Also has a subliminal, try and find it..

View emavs33's Full Portfolio

Rambling at Work

I'm comfortable today, though I am and have been starving since eight am. My morning slim shakes aren't doing the job anymore. Maybe there's food nearby? I haven't heard of any birthday celebrations today, but that doesn't mean there isn't something free to eat at a desk on the other side of the building, somewhere.

I managed to get a good walk in yesterday evening after departing from work. I've really lost my motivation to exercise as of late, so it felt good to get out there and move. Walking long distances always centers me. Whereas I used to simply walk the circular labrynthian neighborhoods all connected to my own home street back at my parent's house; since moving, I've ended up walking all of the hilliest and most unforgiving roads in terms of terrain and traffic that I can find. It makes for a much better workout, though it also runs the risk of allowing people to throw shit at you, which happens more often than I would prefer. I've been hit directly in the back of the neck with a quarter, which, while painful, I had to hand it to whoever threw it: it was a damn good shot, especially out of the window of a moving car. I've also been hit, dead on, full force, in the crotch by a cup of ice. Once again, this was from a moving car. That one was also a pretty good shot, and it took every ounce of my will to stop from slowing my pace. It hurt really, really bad.

I walk for many miles, generally stoned if at all possible, and with my headphones on. That beautiful sensation of making progress, of making headway and of just getting somewhere, anywhere, is probably what I love most about my walks. In my day to day life, there is a stagnancy. I'm not unique in this regard by any means, but it's still torturous, especially on my bad days. I've always been the type of person that desires purpose, and I've yet to find one that's lasted. There was a time when I felt that my purpose in life was to eventually become a professional artist, but I've bypassed that, and these days I hardly do any drawing at all. After that, I was sure that my purpose in life centered around Emily, and keeping her happy and at my side. After she left, and I had my uproarious identity crisis which turned me from a fat, mostly-jovial and exceptionally kind teenager into a thin, cynical and stoic asshole of a young adult, I was completely at a loss, dropping out of a college and taking on a full-time job just to prevent myself from dwelling on my sorrows in my free time.

After becoming a college drop-out (the first time) things only got worse and more out-of-control. Upon my return from Columbus, I knew that there was really nowhere to go and nothing to pursue. I had no goals besides getting weed, staying high and hopefully, somewhere in the midst of that, finding a girl that will stick around this time. A dozen failures and another ruined relationship later, I was worse off than when I had started, completely broke and at a point where suicide sounded logical rather than drastic. But I'm a dramatic and emotional young man, and in time I weathered that storm. These thoughts do crop up from time to time though, even now. Despite my good job, my friends, my family; none of it matters to me apparently, though it is what keeps me going. I want something more.

I have a habit of constantly checking things where people may be trying to get a hold of me. Whether it be my e-mail, my Facebook, my cell phone or this site itself; I'm always glancing when I have a spare moment, hoping for a word from... Someone. I'm not sure why, nor am I sure what exactly it is that I'm waiting for. Just... Contact. I suppose it's just my conscious/subconscious desire to be wanted and sought out manifesting itself. As if one, beautiful day, I'll open a new tab on my internet browser and take a peek at my e-mail; there, I will find a long, wordy, unabashedly DESPERATE message from someone, maybe Kathleen, telling me that they want me, they NEED me, they're IN LOVE with me and they can't go another day without me at their side. Suddenly, all of this chaos that reigns above my head and keeps me held firmly at bay will disperse, and I will rise, oh yes, RISE into the heavens and become, at long last, a happy and fulfilled person.

Stupid, right?

It's a stupid habit to have, one that I should be taking active steps to rid myself of. But I suppose there isn't any real harm in it. If I take some simple delight in doing so, why not take a moment to make a wish and then see if my wish came true? I've had wishes come true before. As cheesy as it sounds, Emily coming into my life was a wish that came true. I was lonely and had been single for some time, and every day I wished to find love. Suddenly, love came, in the form of a beautiful Italian girl that was so far out of my league that I was legitimately confused when our time together began so quickly. And we worked, for a long time. So maybe that will happen again. Who can say? I may be having absolutely terrible luck with women right now, but hopefully it won't last.

I've felt the sobering sting of rejection far too much in the past year. It's been a brutal time to be alive in many ways, and I'm glad that things have gotten so much better, at least financially-speaking. But still, I am alone. My solitude may be what's best for me right now, but that sure as hell doesn't mean I have to like it. I haven't the faintest idea how to stand out to all of the lovely, captivating women out there. The longer I go unnoticed, the worse I tend to think of myself. That isn't fair or even really sensible, but it's not something I have much influence over. I like to think that some day, I'll be able to properly judge my own self-worth, without taking into account shallow occurances such as a girl that eyes me up and down or the vague, half-informed opinions she may have about me based on my appearance. But if the entirety of my life up until this point is any sort of indicator, then I will likely be this way forever. Unfortunate, but it's hard to do combat with who you are at your core.

It's fun to look back on my time with Emily at this point. I miss all of the warmth that accompanied it, and it's nice to reflect on all of the good times. Megan and I never had a relationship like that. Ours was a relationship built around sex, strain and intoxication. I don't really know if I regret the time I spent with her. It lead to nothing besides conflict, with her and with friends that knew her, and I suppose in that regard, I do wish we had been wise with whom we chose to lay with. I also missed a few chances with other girls while Megan was around, but I doubt any of those paths would have lead anywhere relevant.

Really, I wish I had been better to Megan. I wish so distraught all of the time, and I allowed my patience with her to wittle down to absolutely nothing. Never in my life have I argued with someone so often and so fiercely. I have never been one to raise my voice to anyone, even out of anger, but Megan simply brought it out of me like no other girl ever could. We were an extremely physical couple, wrestling often, fucking constantly and always playfully pushing each other around. We never actually raised our fists against one-another of course, but at times, I wasn't exactly sure how long it would be before Megan straight up threw a punch at me. I'd deserve it too. She was unreasonable and obnoxious more often than not, but she was also exceedingly sweet and understanding of my mood swings. She deserved much, much better than what I gave to her. Despite all of that, she still considered me one of the sweetest boyfriends she had ever had. That's so sad, and so unfair.

I managed to further ruin things between Megan and I when I drunkenly tried to get a booty call out of her a few months back. Certainly not one of my finer moments, but considering that she left me and immediately slept with that piece-of-shit that she's always hanging around, I honestly thought it was a plausible attempt (at the time). I regret that, of course, but I think in the end it may have been best to simply remove myself from Megan's life entirely. That's another thing that this last year has been about: the removal of those who are bad for my mental health. That's not to say that I've purged a large amount of my social circle; it really only applies to a small handful of people. But I'm glad to have done away with them, and I'm glad that the splash of their waves of melodrama is no longer able to reach me.

At this point, I'm not entirely sure what I was supposed to be talking about. I'm just practicing a form of writing that isn't poetry. Work with me here.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Neat new layout.

View sivus's Full Portfolio

Dancing at the Tavern

The tavern was particularly crowded that night. Droves of friends and strangers pressed together around both bars, and many others huddled in one rippling mass outside around the puny, near-useless fire pits that were placed haphazardly throughout the patio area. The pool tables were mostly unoccupied, but every bit of space around them had been eaten up by people, young and old alike, who had come out that evening to drink, dance and socialize.

The room furthest back had been converted into a blinking, pulsating dance floor yet again as the first Saturday of the month came upon us. A projector had been set up and was peering out of the DJ booth, displaying that new Tucker & Dale Vs Evil movie on the blank, right-hand wall. It was widely ignored of course, especially considering the fact that you couldn't hear the audio. The music belched out of the overhanging speakers and pushed the dance floor's tenants into a frenzied, semi-rhythmic march into and around one-another; pushing and bumping, grinding into every warm, available body and denying every grounded piece of etiquette that tells you to keep yourself to yourself.

After consuming just enough alcohol to shed my ever-present hesitation, I followed my friends to the center of the dancefloor and proceeded to do a sad, other-worldly approximation of dancing. I paid little attention to anything and anyone around me, as I've been to enough bars, parties and whatever else to know that for the most part, nobody's going to really notice that I'm there. The night went on as it generally does, and we had a fair time. I became more and more intoxicated quickly and decided that making a fool out of myself sounded like fun. I jumped in the middle of a nearby dance circle and pretended like I knew what I was doing. A girl laughed, asked me my name and told me to keep going. I didn't, and told her that she should get in there and dance instead. She did, and I wandered away, forgetting almost instantly that she had even spoken to me at all.

Most of the evening slipped by without any significant happenings at all. No one else spoke to me and I chose to hover as close to my friends as possible, like I always do. I danced for as long as I could; eyes closed, smiling wide, ignoring everything and everyone around me. In many ways, I didn't really understand why I was even there. I was wasting money on booze and I wasn't talking to any girls. But I was shaking my ass and moving my feet - I suppose that counts for something. After blowing a little over twenty dollars and finally closing my tab, we regrouped and prepared to take our leave. Just then, a couple of old acquaintances of ours emerged from the back room, arm in arm, both heavily intoxicated and in a jovial mood. One of them was an old ex-girlfriend of mine who I've sort of re-familiarized myself with over the past year or so. Though my memory at this point starts getting a bit vague and blurry, I do remember speaking to them, leaving the tavern and getting pizza, and then being invited back to my ex's nearby apartment to hang out and drink a little bit more.

Her place was typical for a young college graduate living in the trendiest part of Cincinnati's underbelly: high, vaulted ceilings, wood floors and the constant, ever-present sound of creaking boards and echoing footsteps. We sat in her living room, doing nothing in particular. I watched her and admired how pretty she was, and how she had finally grown into herself. She watched my friends and had the same thoughts.

We left. Though I don't recall doing so, I had apparently messaged my ex and told her that we should get together some time soon. When she promised me that we would, I asked her if she was simply saying that to quiet me, as every girl I know makes promises like this and never, ever follows through. She was honest and told me that no, she probably didn't mean it. In the same message, she also decided it would be best to let me know that my friends are really attractive and that someone really needs to let them know. According to her, I'm cool too, but those boys, they sure did finally mature into something special. Make sure to let them know, Rob, or give me their numbers so I can. Make sure to let them know.

That is quite literally the last thing I remember about my Saturday night: that text, and all of the wonderful feelings that accompanied it. I don't know if I should be hurt and I don't know if BEING hurt makes me an overly-sensitive little boy, but it's not like it matters.

People wonder why I'm so down on myself. I wonder about it too. I'm not sure why it started originally, but it only gets worse as more and more members of the opposite sex display their apathy regarding me. They're never very shy about it; in fact, some of them are exceedingly vocal about their opinions, and man, it fucking hurts. It hurts bad. I wish it didn't; I wish I could simply let it roll off of me and know that "It's just one girl. She doesn't matter." But no, everyone's words tend to slice into me just a bit, even if they weren't really meant to.

My ex sent me another message the following day. She apologized for what she said (or rather, how she said it) but also chose to reiterate her point, stating that she "Meant it". I have to say, at that point, the apology doesn't really fucking help.

View sivus's Full Portfolio

Girls at Walt's Park

I spotted a girl on the same trolley
Her mother knew mine, some way
Her face was pretty and sour
She passed the time like an hourglass should
That was the last of her I saw
Her last image a back pocket
Stitches on blue, savvy suede
It held true to a spherical way

Under high set sun we waited
On a tower that promised thrills
She walked by then, younger
Only by a year or maybe less
Despite our lack of mutual age
She held two tons of gravitational pull
Capable of drawing eye and others
Bounding as if lost in lucid dreams

After five years and with a mate
I found myself stranded amongst corridors
Moving in strident capsules made of steel
Huddled amongst a many foreign entities
They had a fluttering muttered way
But they laughed all the same
Constant slopes made of polished bronze
Everything else cast in elegant shade

As day grew later longer warmer
We retreated to some sovereign void
But before we set to wheel departed
I caught scent and sight of a vision
Who in all resplendence held such will
Her many turning highways frozen at dawn
Where all the shadows make every valley deeper

One of the days in our cluster folds
And I am privileged to retire my eyes
Rest them upon the most beauty one can behold
While still maintaining stillness of ego
We nestle together through sigh or indifference
Fill all our spaces with texture and skin
Say our old vows and share in the heat
Enjoying the feel of a familiar caress.

View sivus's Full Portfolio


Across exposed shoulders and a pale collar shown
lay a splay of red freckles atop her porcelain cast.
She'd seem to shine among the low lights
and the subtle haze of the drunks among us,
but all the while she's comfortable with
the thought of you standing close to her.
Her eyes so alive and piercing and thoughtful;
her voice tends to rise upon the point that she's making.
She couldn't sit still for more than a breath,
and often would stumble just after a sip.
And as you catch her and stay on your feet,
for just a moment she'll lean into your arms.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

All these lovely ladies, everywhere, all the time.

View sivus's Full Portfolio

under the sun blog

we meet , short and cute
smile all happy ,young but straight
tells me what she cares
and what makes her happy.

shes like an angel full of
glow an essence of gold
she`s happy and keen
even when i tease her and mean

her soul travels over
under or thru
man i am lucky to have a chance to meet her

me all tall jokey
being all tag and pokey
dont understand at the time
feel kinda .....

i`m shocked that she said ok
to see me again maybe now i
should show her a man
i layed it down hard when i should of tryed soft
no regrets just lessons

start mtv and get with today
so next time the game
will not be the same
what do you prefer
lighted it up .
watch the sun and talk was great
over all i had fun
so did she

maybe next time i wont be so
old fashion and maybe kat will be there
wow i can say she is fantastic

Author's Notes/Comments: 

anna i had fun

View spiritallover's Full Portfolio

Beauty Call

I walk aloft of warnings passed by semi-friendly faces,
most of which have little to say or do or much to part with.
Admirings have gone so far but patterns in my speech
are leaving something to desire. They wind with me alone.
And I am in between a class of shine and one of solace,
flecked with rust and bitter turns of fate and of due process.
They see me standing, book to read, hands delved into pockets,
and assume the worst and best of me all while drawing eyes away.
I have no grasp upon my beauty or whether it is there at all,
but know that I have wealth to share in words and touch and my own care.
I seek visage with gravity to draw me from my stars;
compressing me, consoling me, forming singularity.
Inviting me with favored gaze that shows you kind and likely
to understand me, just for me, not to reprimand me towards a change.
Speak with many frequent glances, maybe toss a smile too,
and then I'll know just who to wary and who is there to woo.
Please be gentle and bring me interest, do not draw my many yawns.
I'll be yours for all and always, provided with your call.

View sivus's Full Portfolio