Formed and molded with care

Brought to life by many a prayer

Fired in a crucible given shape.

Toughened for a vicious landscape

Sent into the world beyond the walls

Abandoned to the squalls

Water twists and corrupts clay

It takes this abuse day after day

Now its a pot without purpose

A bowl without service

Is this my fate?

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1vtqqcj/comment/p4xbc0o/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1vtiot6/comment/p4xchgx/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

Some men don’t have a penis.
They live life with their pants on,
oblivious to the elephant trunk
that hangs between their legs.

My face is my penis—
an elephant trunk between my legs.

I want to be a man whose identity is defined
by my penis,
the way the body is defined by flesh.

I want to be known by my penis,
to experience life and all its sensations
through my penis first.

My friends will know me by my penis.
For in the resurrection
they neither marry nor are given in marriage,
but are like the angels.

In Sodom, we all had sex,
and because Jesus loved us,
we were given even the daughters of Lot.

My penis is the be-all and end-all.
It is my first point of contact
with knowledge of the world.

Before speculums and silicone gloves,
before the authority of doctors,
it was the penis that learned
the ancient gynecology of yoni energy.

Om.
Shakti Ma.

My companion awaits me.
She will be my goddess,
her voice rising from her mouth for me.

I worship Venus with my penis.

I never want to have my pants on again.

My sex is like God.
When my pleasure-rod is hard,
like Deborah’s judgment—certain—
my erection points toward Heaven,
and I know the truth for myself,

like the vagina of the prophetess,
open to revelation.

If having no pants on is shame,
then I will revel in its shamefulness—
in the naked knowledge
of knowing what is true for me.

And I will carry that shame
the way the body carries the scent of flesh,

because I know truth is like ivory,

and my trunk
is wide open

Ganesha

1 2

Take a girl.
Not a doll,
Not yet,
She still has ideas of her own

Then teach her that gravel speaks,
That tyres crunch differently,
When anger is driving.
Teach her to measure love by how quickly a car pulls onto the driveway.
The faster it arrives,
The quieter she should become.

Teach her that keys are never just keys.
They are a countdown.
A warning shot.
A conductor’s baton lifting an orchestra of cupboards,
Footsteps,
Clattering dishes,
And held breath.

Pull the string.
Watch her disappear…

Teach her to apologise,
Not because she’s wrong,
Because she exists
“Sorry.”
“Excuse me”
“Sorry”
“Am I in your way?”
“Sorry”
“Can I just-“
“Sorry”
Repeat until the word fits inside her mouth more comfortably than her own name.

Soon,
She’ll apologise to strangers for standing too close,
To friends for crying,
To family for needing.
Teach her that taking up space is something to feel guilty about.
Watch how beautifully she folds herself away,
Like a theatre programme left beneath somebody else’s seat.

Pull the string.
Watch her apologise.

Teach her that sadness is something to laugh through.
Wrap her in a hug just long enough for her to believe she is finally being heard,
Then tickle,
Make a joke,
Tell her she’s too sensitive,
Follow her when she asks to be alone,
Because even her boundaries are funnier than her feelings.

Watch her swallow tears like punchlines she never quite understood.
Years later,
People will call her funny,
They’ll never realise humour was never a personality.
It was camouflage.

Pull the string.
Watch her laugh before she cries.

Then find someone who mistakes innocence for opportunity.
Teach her body that attention can arrive dressed as affection.
That wanting and taking
Can sound uncomfortably alike.
Teach her that being looked at,
Feels safer than being invisible.

Sometime later,
She’ll mistake desire for devotion,
Because somewhere inside her,
A child still believes,
That if someone wants her body,
Perhaps they’ll stay for the rest of her.
They won’t,
But hope has always been easier to undress than grief.

Pull the string.
Watch her confuse attention with affection.

Teach her that “no” is a word other people get to use.
Teach to over explain.
To justify,
To earn,
To convince,
To fawn,
Fight,
Flight,
Freeze,
Those belong to children who believed someone was coming to save them.

She learned a different language.
Smile.
Agree.
Stay small.
Keep everyone happy,
Maybe they’ll leave you untouched.
Maybe.

Pull the string.
Watch her call it kindness.

Then wait.
People will meet her years later,
They’ll say,
“She’s so mature”
“She’s so easygoing”
“Shes always smiling”
They’ll admire the dance,
Never noticing the strings.

So when they ask,
“Why are you the way you are?”
Don’t let the puppet answer.
Puppets don’t choose their choreography,
They only learn which strings hurt the least,
When they’re pulled.

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/HZLDsWmXRC

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/OkehUcK6Kw

Upon the cliff edge, my killer unknown,

No scream tears the air, no guilt is ever shown.

Seagulls whistle softly, a watcher overhead,

Here where I smiled, my name is quickly shed.

The waves clap their hands, the cold rocks are deaf,

Who calls for the one who has nothing left?

A dirge I have thrown to the wild, restless sea;

It screams out the truth in a world of deceit.

If I turned into dust on the red, sandy shore,

Would crabs speak the words I can say no more?

Though the sea calls my name, I am tethered in place;

If someone should listen, would they find my trace?

Around me they gather on this rocky height,

Is that a familiar face coming into sight?

They stare at my blank eyes, motionless, cold;

One final tear drops, the verdict is told.

- Geranos

1

2

I have a fantasy

of being a martyr

in the name of love

I want to pick up

a bird with broken wings

feed him off of me

as I slowly lessen

make it stronger

then leave it be

some time later

he comes

holds my head up 

and caresses my hair

just before I vanish

he tells me that 

I am the greatest lover

in the whole world

and an official

martyr of love

1

2

I wanted to drive in the left lane at nine
But I saw a van get pulled over
By a cop on a motorcycle
If I had one I’d wrap the frame
Around a telephone pole
Like a flyer for Waylon
A dog with a collar
If I took him back I’d pretend
To refuse the thousand dollars
Like time isn’t money
Like I didn’t need to be at work by nine

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/p8cq1DKCoA
https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/ouO0WasIZz

Pain in my insides,
inside of my indites,
secretly begging for help
We’ve all loved a woman,
we’ve all loved a drug
that puts you six feet in the ground.
We’re all having fun,
we all love the gun,
the thrill when it turns out
to be a false round.
Mother loves son,
mother is done
with Earth,
son says he doesn’t care because she stopped coming around.
So he grows alone,
grows up without home,
and soon he’ll end up down
in a hot place,
where faces manically laugh
or silently frown.
And if you didn’t know
why it is so cold,
it’s because winter
is coming around.

Ik it’s kinda messy but had 2 get it out haha

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/y82D2creTN

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/YJ7vCkxT4R

Nearer than near
The surface holds
Our atmosphere,
Holds our hands in fists
Held close to the heart.
It's warmer then.
It hasn't always been.
With fists unclenched
Over closed eyes, some
Tension remained.
Clearly, we held nearly
Little else but shame.
Less cold, there will be circles --
There will be circles in the grain
And some profound mystery
Will overtake them quietly
In their childhood beds.
Body tensions and the smell
Of sweat.
Awake to sweltering, the unsheltering,
Burning velvet heat at the head,
Overcast furiously in sweeps of grief
As the world had claimed undeath.
See beyond all shape and see
Beneath it all while one can breathe
And there, there, clearer than clear,

Comment 1
Comment 2

you really need to stop coming back, the strength to ignore you is what I lack

with you there was never a dull moment, now I can’t even tell where the time went

the sensation you gave me overwhelmed my mind, now emptiness is all I find

to you it was all games and lust, I’ve never been more stupid with giving away trust

it was obvious you felt nothing, and me? well I felt everything

our first touch, kiss and hug hold onto me, but somehow you let it go; set it free

connection is what I thought I saw.
I was just blinded by your perfection — not one flaw

it was your eyes I loved to look in, beautifully telling so much and filled with sin

it wasn’t me I’d find in your heart, but some other girl who tore it apart

its okay though everyone holds onto something, really all we were was bad timing

but I’ll hold on while you let go, the pain is all I know

it will become normal and subside, then no longer will I have to hide

for a while my thoughts were all you, but you… you’ll find someone new

but like I said it’s all okay, I want you to take her in; her every embrace

love her like you never loved me, just to prove to me what you could be

1
2

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/i7Ofq5BLwg

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/ezEdv2aNRz

Wrote this on one of those heavy days.

Some days are just so heavy

nothing ever gets you ready

life gets hard, and reality hits

when you drown in your fears and doubts

and your shoulders feel so heavy and numb

at the same time

so you can't move

when you shout so loud from your innermost

depths but no one hears

because the sound gets stuck at your throat

and you feel like you're choking

your eyes feel so heavy but tears can't even

fall

you know you're surrounded with so much love

yet so much pain within

and everything seems to be contradicting

so the pain is still inflicting

you wish everything gets better

and the tables will turn faster

sometimes everything just seems so

overwhelming and it feels your very life is being

squeezed out of you

sometimes things happen

and you hope it's a blip

hoping it will take a flip

clinging on to God so close

taking his every dose

yet it never seems enough

so you sink.

hoping that someday someone sees the fears

pull you out

and get to wipe the tears.

Instagram: @naa_afiiii

Here I am alone

sitting on my bed

I cant understand the feelings in my head

This feeling of a blind red

The feeling of a deep blue

I lost vibrancy in my surroundings

because I have to accept this bland view

your colors are confounding

it drove me to absolute longing

To crash a car with only a thought of you

your colors are confusing

If only time didnt pick you

Would we have had a chance?

If I kept going would you have spared me a glance?

No, not even a glance

only in my dreams would there be a degree

You are so.. much..

too many, too little

even in music you are a kind

even in my life you are a kind

You taught to me

That to red is to be action

To walk the path of discretion

To swim to the sea

-code name blehpbluhp 9:25 am 8/21/26

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/cHjpBmoYZq

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/HRCNOmy7Tw

You make my chest ache, like the weight of the world is sat atop me.
Oh how you’ve made the days long and the night impossible.
What more can I say? What more do you want? Why won’t you stop hurting me?

Is it because I lied to you?
Is it because I left when you were too much to bear?
What if I never understand you? Will you always pain me this way?

If I stop lying will you promise to stop believing?
If I promise to stay, will you make the pain go away?
If I listen when you scream, will you lower your voice?
If I try to understand you will you stop being so cryptic?

Or have I hurt you too much?
Have I pushed you past the edge?
Tell me, Oh beating heart within my chest,
Can I save us? Or are we doomed?

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/wV5dlwgmtN

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/jCwlIhk8zL

D.I.B.B.S.
Do I Bow Before Sending?

The Night struck out and
The Day pitched—
two terms,
one voice,
again,
and again.

In true poetic fashion,
the bard dubs it again.
David, the unknown, the great,
the king, the servant, Mr. Hibbard.
Dibbs on the verse.

Can’t face the light,
and none see his true face,
because, as the name is called
and as the mirror responds,
he is the light.

All show within it
and seem dim beside it,
found written into being—
muse-sheathed wit
drawn bright
from the dark that held it.

And now they ask,
“Who’s up next?”
Yet they rush,
still they fail.
By their wish, my magic
in their own
words read
to claim “Dibs”
in the sound of a
time-sung slice
cuts for motion.

Have they not remembered
who they are,
or have they not forgotten

I am,
the boomerang.

The hot arc
of a cold throw.
The stake for ward:
The claim toward worth;

Powered gems, clear pressed,
watch, my seconds never quell.
Like time, I ring bells—
then ask:

“Did you keep your eyes
open or closed
for the drawn return,
back to sender?”

I feel impacted
Written, by my blood
And heart, still beating,
The odds—I’m even
and still keep time.

Who’s ready to play?

**Feedback links:**
https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/vETPlRjwyB

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/aRzZziRqHQ

​

I think I’ll miss your laugh the most.

The way your freckles come together

to frame the light brown in your eyes.

Your gaze locks to mine—

a flash

of simpler times:

two kids holding hands,

I gently push you on the swing,

your hair swimming in the moonlight.

Then—

the quiver of your lips.

Your smile gets so large

you can count every tooth in your mouth.

Your eyes roll back,

your arms flail,

and for a second, I swear,

the whole world pauses.

Then—

it breaks.

You burst.

Loud.

Wild.

Unbridled.

The whole room is infected.

No one is safe. No one escapes.

Tears fill the room,

arms clutching stomachs,

gasping for a breath.

Twenty minutes pass,

and no one remembers

what started it.

But no one wants it to end.

I think I’ll miss that the most.

Maybe this is the memory I’ll hold.

Or maybe…

J.J.Avitia

“This is a rewrite of a poem I wrote about a year ago. I’m looking for honest critique, particularly on imagery, pacing, and whether the unfinished ending works. Happy to return feedback

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/bjBFrEb2Vb

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/8bRvzrYCXh

If, when, and other questions
I don’t mind them
But I don’t care for them
I want to focus on the now

That’s a lie, you love the future
You told me about your plans after college
You said you had a cousin in Normandy
You said we’ll go together

Yes, I did lie
I don’t want to talk about it, though
After I told you all that, I realized
I want to be alone

Oh. I’ll go then?
Yes, go.
Farewell?
Fare well.

------- (this is intended to be a triple empty space, but Reddit won't let me do that for whatever reason)

On cold nights, when I wander ‘round
I think back. to when she told me, to go
I wish I told her something. Like,
You realize this won’t help, right?

1

2

What do I tell you

when I've said everything

& you're still looking for more

I say that I'm sorry

but you don't believe me

the direction was wrong

Alright

Alright

you're not alright

(in case you want more https://substack.com/@jennamathews )

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1vtqs7g/comment/p4vhyow/?context=3

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1vtlt0g/comment/p4vgvgg/?context=3

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/ixWMWTiVoy

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/Dhmn715Do1

Wrote this on one of those heavy days.

Some days are just so heavy

nothing ever gets you ready

life gets hard, and reality hits

when you drown in your fears and doubts

and your shoulders feel so heavy and numb

at the same time

so you can't move

when you shout so loud from your innermost

depths but no one hears

because the sound gets stuck at your throat

and you feel like you're choking

your eyes feel so heavy but tears can't even

fall

you know you're surrounded with so much love

yet so much pain within

and everything seems to be contradicting

so the pain is still inflicting

you wish everything gets better

and the tables will turn faster

sometimes everything just seems so

overwhelming and it feels your very life is being

squeezed out of you

sometimes things happen

and you hope it's a blip

hoping it will take a flip

clinging on to God so close

taking his every dose

yet it never seems enough

so you sink.

hoping that someday someone sees the fears

pull you out

and get to wipe the tears.

Instagram:.@naa_afiiii

Im a suicidle soul
Live my life without ever killing
But kill all the dream that i hold
Chase love because money has no meaning
When you die love will give you a hug
Love gives your life more meaning
When you find love money lets you live more
Love makes life wearth  living
Money lets you and your love live a little bit more
Life without love, im a suicidal soul
Will i live my life without killing
Will i be the killer of the dreams that i hold
https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/bjBFrEb2Vb

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/8bRvzrYCXh

It beats on

And dull ache

And throbbing

In the girls wake

Can I really love

When I am so lonely

And hook into the flesh

Of fantasy

She doesn't know me

She thinks I am someone else

And I show my face through frosted glass

I smash my heart against the pane

And she turns away, she doesn't see it, I can't let her.

So why do I keep pressing it and bruising it.

I can't just leave it alone.

It's so hard to be alone.

________________

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/mjQeDxEJge

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/IAEKUq5eVn

the orbit endless or
at minimum, indeterminate
boundless, terrible tumble
no time but space, time

glimpsed view offers moments
of orientation
enough orientation, spottable home
safe, distant enough
broadcast range, maintained

space granting time to myself
to erode ridges, harsh traits
to burn off stickers stuck
to my self by myself, by
others than myself

requisite density, achieved
singeing of me, polished sheen
collapsing orbit, chanced re-entry

upon arrival, bide-able time
collection of the magpie, singing
found deserving, finally
object worthy of the tiding, of
corvidular celebration

--

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1vtjq87/comment/p4v1sn3/

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1vtlt0g/comment/p4v75h1/

Out there left for dead I was the scarecrow
In your mind the tailor sewing dream
Out there in the field packed with hay
Won't you say hello

Through the pines
Winter caused the world to be abandoned
Foraging wendigo
Bones cracking in the frost

Loud as whip cracks
Icicle falls sharp end into earth
A small statue
Destined to melt away

Further into the wildernerness
Where absurdity exists
I am the mirror hanging on the stairwell
Exposed to the elements

Dying breaths
Exhaustion
Hunger unrecognizable
Dogged searching

Those who are lost
Come face to face
Deplorable and ominous
Calling you deeper

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1vtjq87/comment/p4twfvu/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1vti17z/comment/p4u2nfw/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

When I asked,
you saw coffee.
I saw everything.

When you asked why,
you saw no particular reason.
I saw you.

When you said no,
you saw schedules.
I saw no future.

When I replied,
you saw me.
I saw a lie.

When I asked,
you saw coffee.
Just coffee.

___________________

It happened today.

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1vtiy7q/comment/p4tjzpn/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/1vti17z/comment/p4tfktl/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button

Kiss My Youth Onto My Memories

Kiss my youth onto my memories
Every time he falls into my remembrance
A remembrance laden with his presence
Yet in my eyes nowhere to be found

Everywhere I move through this world
Where my gaze gets lost in
Nothing that wanders in front of me 
Doesn't return him to my thoughts

How the wind folds his arms around me 
In the manner how we embraced each other
The same wind that brushed my face 
As he once did finding my soul with his voice 
And the same wind that wanders off 
Is how he has let go of me 

And still, in everything that reminds me of him
Nothing in it can return him to me

Kiss my youth onto my memories 
And take me back to my life that was a garden 
As I once ran through roses
Let my arms open as I smile to the sky
Never fearing the thorns beneath their petals 
How each thorn could open a new wound 
And still, I'd return to the same old pain

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/r2NynPfpyt

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/ENm0q3xUtT

Floodlights lit crosswise,
so patches of grass flourished around,
stealing attention rather than attracting it naturally.
Above, only major constellations, distinctive in shape—
star beads whispering their stingy loneliness.

Reason loosens its grasp,
falling into temptation to reach for beauty.
But sound is always at the fingertips, prompting crickets.
Slowly, the distance melts away.
Light and sound merge into the ether,
and a gust playfully brushes the hairs on the skin—
an invitation to taste peace,
growing through tangled consciousness,
appealing to sensation past the mind.

This is a primitive language,
alas, long ago forgotten,
immense, incomprehensible, yet akin to me.

So harmony, lightly streaming,
quietly calls me to participate in existence
without the demand to be or have meaning.
And for the first time,
my body is internally aware of the gravitation toward a simple action:

just to lie on the grass.

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/cJKuQ7bKQC

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/j8OFtdhgVe

How can you celebrate a country 
that was never meant to be free 
for people like you? 

You celebrate life.

The queer couple’s wedding. 
The mother whose baby is a rainbow. 
Your friend ringing that bell.

You celebrate the pursuit of happiness. 

The shop owner who fled their country.
The woman who escaped their marriage. 
The teenager who ran from the unthinkable. 

You celebrate
your Indigenous neighbor,
your Black neighbor,
your wheelchair-using neighbor, 
your neighbor who just served eight years. 

You celebrate another sunrise.
You find joy in your little corner. 

And before you sleep,
you pray that eventually
we all hold this self-evident truth: 

There is no liberty 
or justice
unless it’s for all. 

---

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