poetic_star's picture

confession highways

It's too late to call you, now, friend,
and you're probably just pulling off
the road and checking into
some motel with a vintage
sign glowing neon in east Texas.
The truth is, boy, that I wouldn't
know what to say if I could get
a hold of you on the phone
in my current state because
the last time I saw you,
it was raining in bucketfuls
of liquid pearls and your
mother was waving
goodbye on the porch,
as though you were
going off to war and
it'd be the last time
she would see your
hazelnut eyes shining
and that dopey grin.

Boy, I needed to say a lot of things;

poetic_star's picture

Boys don't cry

Trucks speed through my turquoise dreams,
taking fathers away from
their disappointed sons.
And I'm stuck in a dizzy spell,
always searching for mine,
even when he's sleeping
only a few doors down
the hall of our North Sea Texas house.

Friend, you showed up one summer day
at the public pool when
I was learning to swim
and grabbed my arm as
I thrashed in the deep end,
my heart panicking as
it thumped chlorine and fear.
But you kept me from drowning,
boy, like an angel of
the kill me-kiss me sort.

You weren't afraid to show me
the Aztec flowers tattooed across

poetic_star's picture

Birthday Stars

There's a monster growling under my bed
but I lost interest in him ages ago
and now you're the only thought
occupying my mind in
the vanilla wallpaper darkness.
Late November clings
to your lashes and birthday stars
collide into the lark pond,
their orange flames
resemble romantic
suicide attempts glowing
near our neighborhood.

Violin strings mark your palms
and I stare as our hands brush
and snow appears in puffs on
the rooftops of old colonial homes.
5th Avenue was built for all
the drunken socialites but
you and I wander here because
we have nothing to lose,

poetic_star's picture

Chaotic Dreamer

*inspired by Brian and Michael from Queer as Folk :P

The sun dies in your irises as you lie in bed,
clutching a joint between your fingers and
savoring the memory of a fight on your lips.
Friend, you start the evening off like a burst
of color and light brighter than a carousel,
but towards the end of the rave, you're
already bored and empty so you turn
to hospitals and dramatic suicidal promises,
threatening to jump if I don't hold your hand.
Manipulating the seasons in Pittsburgh,
my friend, you drive me wild.
But somehow, I'm always playing this game.

poetic_star's picture

the Vast fields of Ordinary

*I guess this is my version of a love letter :) the title is from my all-time favorite book by Nick Burd.

Dear perpetual stranger,

In august, I saw you at a neighborhood get-together
and though we both said it was stupid and boring,
the truth is I didn't mind because your irises were
filled with buttery gingerbread and your Clark Kent
type smile made me feel like I wasn't a sad story,
doing somersaults through the summer.

Trailer park flowers grow outside your front door,
but I walk up the road leading to it
with excitement ramming in my chest because

poetic_star's picture


You claim she's making you restless
with her strings of costume jewelry
and celebrity perfume that reeks
of insecurity and family issues.
But despite all your complaining,
the way I see things, your heart
is just as isolated as this girl's
and you two aren't that different.

She thinks it's funny to call her
peers names that she dug up
out of her dad's expensive yard,
covered in undeserving soil
and pubescent bacteria.

"Dance with me," she says.
"So everyone will think you're normal."
And you make excuses as
disco balls throw cliches
against the rundown walls of a gym

poetic_star's picture

Garage Moon

Your hands ghost over my arms and land on the springy mattress.
I'm only pretending to sleep so the movement doesn't shock me.
The creamy shadows of trucks on the country highway slip in
through the blinds and flash over our titled forms on my bed.
"You're a terrible actor," you whisper in my ear.
"But that's what I love about you; how everything is so real."
And then your stinging June lips scale down
the side of my neck and I grin, unfazed by
the teasing notes in your gravel and snowflake voice,
reaching my hands up to pull you further

poetic_star's picture

Cranberry Flesh

*about a girl this time :)*

You were singing karaoke against
the mechanical stars that peeked
out of the see-through sky above
the coffeehouse.
And I stood in a crowd of friends,
feeling awkward,
but nonetheless impressed
by your voice that sounded
like a bluebird on
a rainy Monday morning.

Girl, the brown daisy dress
you wore with sparrow leggings
did something to my sanity
because I went up to you
after the show and helped you
down from the stage
as people clapped,
clinking glasses of
frosted supernovas.
You smiled shyly,
making me feel very seventeen,

Kidrow79's picture

Dreamt of Him

i dreamt of him last nyt....
it was the first time i dreamt of him since i left.
u can say he broke my heart. i mean how can this person say he loves me, that im his bestfriend, that wen im sad his day is already ruined and most heartbreakingly of all his "Boyfriend". One day there arent any secrets wit me and him, one month he calls me every night jus to say goodnyt even wen its super late, just bcuz the last thing of the day he ever wanted to do was jus say Good Night to me.

jacjessen90's picture

my poem..."to a very dear friend."

"Valde specialis amicus"

'Bonum, malum vidimus omnes, /
alium adiuvat nos cum caderem,
per tempora anni per /
nostris risu, nostroque ploratu /
ego tibi et mihi et /
consideratis ego propinquans familia /
non sit relicta vacant secreto /
amicitiam valet multo auro /
etiam videtur mundus nigris /
invenies inferre retro /
ostendere signa videre occasum /
Haec sunt in sempiternum non obliviscar /
scire nobis longa credas scimus omnia /
Sed quaedam de nobis quasi Qabala /
scio voles siue conseruatio jam fragum /
si scitis ut vel exponere verbis nisi /

openaboutit's picture

Stuck in a rut.

People make me wanna cry my armor is broken and the wall is down. I’ve been stabbed in the back and kicked to the ground I don’t know how to be happy anymore. I don’t know who to trust anymore, I don’t know who my friends are. I’m gone and I don’t think I’m coming back, my mind has cracked.

undead_poet's picture

im hosting a poetry event here in omaha might read this one tell me yes or no

Friendship is forever no matter what you do. Friends are always there for you no matter what you do. There a shoulder to cry on when your sad. Their there for you through the good and bad there respectful and never lead you astray. They’re there for you every day. Friendship lasts forever that I know is true, and when your day is cloudy their there to make it blue.

Anonymous's picture

Depressed Today, But Life Goes On

Just found out I've got more than one person on my list of close friends who actually secretly hates me, except they've now come out of the closet, so to speak. So two of the people I most loved and trusted have winked out of my life in the past two weeks, and another whom I love and care about is now gone too - for a time, at least. I them all the best. I'm doing my best these days to get better and climb out of that "sea of despair" (to use a nautical cliche) Hopefully I can stay out and dry for awhile this time.

wilde_sapphire's picture


So I just told my friend I was a member of this site, trying to be open and honest and all that shit. I'm an idiot. I really didnt know I was so scared of people knowing but I guess I am. I don't know what she's going to do now but I don't think it will be anything bad....*fingers crossed*

Anonymous's picture

Two Kinds of People

Okay, lesson time, children. Get out your notebooks and write this down. There will be many tests on it later in life.

There are two types of people in the world: Those who will do things for you because they love you and have a kind heart, and those who will do them so that they can hold them over you forever and make judgments about you. When you discover that a friend or family member who you thought was the first type of person is actually the second type, it hurts...badly.

How can you tell the difference?

the mouse that roared's picture

god why don't i just drop out

Background: So I decided to see what would happen if I stopped calling my best friend of fifteen years. He never called me back. He was sick and dying for many of those years and our friendship, and now that he's better and I moved to college (only two hours away) he doesn't have time for me.

PhoenixofVirtue's picture

I'm Not Sick But I'm Not Well. And I'm So Hot 'Cause I'm In Hell

I talked to my best friend today. I told him that I felt like my parents were gonna find out pretty soon. And he said that if I ever needed a place to lay my head his house was always available. I can have the whole third floor, he said.

PhoenixofVirtue's picture

Last Dream Standing

This time my entry's about Lass.

For the past few weeks I've been plagued by spontaneous dreams about Lass ever since our friendship entered its silent desert. This is the third time its had her and the second time its been ONLY her. And it seems like each dream connects to something I was going to confront her about in real-time.

PhoenixofVirtue's picture

A Call to Friendship

I had a dream that I was friends with Mitch and Lass once again. We were sitting around Mitch's computer making jokes. Could it be an omen?

PhoenixofVirtue's picture

The Castle Is Falling With the King Inside

I don't want my Oasis journal to be some emo podium. Haha. But, really, things happened with Mitch and Lass today that really set my skin afire. So Lass told me she was going to make my life miserable if I didn't take down that fucking LJ that I wrote.

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