Monthly Archives: January 2014

We Should Not Delay.

Poet's Corner

Twice three days

Past the last of the

Snow-and-salt trees,

Belts of long mountains,

We may find

What we deserve

In this serious desert:

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uncertified social worker

uncertified social worker.

Some women are fucking insane when it comes to what is and is not theirs.

it wasnt her fault
I am the one who decided to watch that just now.
it wasnt her fault
everything dies eventually
it wasnt her fault
beauty only decides to live in those that are whole

it wasnt his fault either
it wasnt his fault either
it wasnt his fault either

i cannot tell you everything, because that will definitely change something for you
i would not want anything to change for you
i would not want anything to change
i just keep telling myself that
nothing changes

we are whole again
is this what whole feels like?
is this what whole should feel like, really?

It wasn’t solely any one person’s fault.


Poet's Corner

Face suffused with joy,
eyes aglow with a smile, can
hands be far behind?

© Apurva

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try and try to stop me now

Un prof de Norton was right

Un prof de Uncle Kevin was correct.

Mom was right,… a-fucking-gain


I want to do three things right now; 1.tell you that I can do this, 2.tell you that I want to do this, and 3.tell you that, “Yes, I am fully aware of the hurtful things that I say. ‘If I didn’t say it, then I’d still have felt it. Where is the sense in that?[.

‘You,’ do you even know who ‘you’ are anyways? I know who you think you are, now tell me, who do you ‘know’?
What is going through your head right now?

Does it hurt?
Whatever is going through your head; I mean to say. Let me just tell you something that you might want to know; whatever it is, is killing me. It is running through my veins. It is making me sweat, almost making it hard to eat, but I care too much about myself to ‘not eat because of what you do.’ I love you

J’aime. Tu est ma amor.

I wish I could shout it.

But, that would be illegal, and I do not do ‘illegal’. Tu est ma amor, aussi J’aime tu, mais, alas… it is only this feeling that I get whenever you step into the room. It might be awful. It might be ok. I don’t care either way; it will give me ab muscles either way.


I am right all the time and that is why people do not like to watch movies with me; I tell them the ending before it even happens… No one has to utter a word of remorse, and I will say I know that they are

No one tells me I am right, though.

No one tells me anything; everyone is as quiet as a mouse facing a room full of dancers.

I will tell you what I know now; I know one thing is truer than anything else, I know that I cannot read minds, now I know that I am one thing and one thing only. I am a social worker. I was watching a movi;, one of those old-fashion kind of movies, my mom likes those ones a lot, and there was a romantic beach seen.

“Romantic,” says me.

“This was one of the most romantic scenes in a movie back a while ago.”

“I thought as much.”

I proceeded to become indulged in the scene, just like the three other women in my life were indulging.

“Oh, shit, what a slut,” says me.

“I did not get that one at all!”

“How? She cheated!”

Then, once the movie proceeded, it turns out I was correct again. The couple had been enjoying a swim on the beach/in the ocean and they completed said swim and were up on the shore talking of a love. The man’s face led me to believe that there was more; I watched him for more. Just like clockwork, he gave me more. He uncovered the truth. Something the lady of the waves was trying to hide from him; she had been married before, and even had gotten pregnant.

My sisters blew up on me after my first ‘what a slut’. My mom reprimanded me; I do not know what I am saying. I am seeing something other than what is really there, once again. Funny seeing as she had just called the police on me for revealing something that made her eldest son out to be nothing more than a skinny loving hippy, and I got released without anything on my record. My father is going out to get Tello’s and a bottle of wine; who can analyze that one? Anyone?

I am blessed with a burden.

That is the simplest way to put what happened to me last semester at DCC. Try becoming blessed wi th a burden in the 21st century at a school with 50% deprived kids and 50% no-it-all’s that refuse to overpay for education that may, or may not be aiding them in their future expeditions.

I am blessed with that burden of seeing what people have chosen to hide.

I am blessed with being able to see both sides to every coin.

I am blessed believe it, or not. I did not think so for a really long time; I was so put-off by everything anyone would choose to conceal in me. What did they think I was anyway? Was I already a mom? Did I look like my mom? I guess that I do have my mother’s eyes, and people do not seem to be able to look past appearances these days.

I came out of the hospital and everything had changed for me; “It has not been ‘that’ long.” There I go again thinking to myself… I do that; I used to be so good at concealing that to everyone. I told everyone, or made them believe without knowing I was trying to avoid telling, that I just liked to do art. I was in middle school before my car accident; what did I know about my life?

Everyone has turned so fast and been able to tell me how wrong I am about everything. My mom is trying to get me to go to Northeastern Center for Special Care. She tries to get other people to convince me that that is where I will find ultimate ‘peace’. Peace my butt. I will go bonkers in any place that keeps me away from my home.

I am an artist.

I am a social worker.

Try and try to stop me now.

I have started and I refuse to stop now. Once I start anything I see it through until the moment it ends, and the world is in dyer need.

I went into Me OH My.
Me OH My Pie Shoppe is being used by students going to Bard College
The teachers do not know what is going on.
No one really knows what is going on there,but a select few of us.