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Kitty Litter-ature

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I'll start, with this oldie I wrote on the train in winter two years ago.


Cold grey concrete, snow and doubt,
Buildings dead and wet throughout.
Frost, barbed wire, softer now,
flee from here, someday, somehow.

White ice flowers, chilled dry air,
Long-dead lights and the moon's cold stare.
A coughing fit, blooms in mist,
A town with death's cold hand is kissed.

Edited by TheBytemaster
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I will be visiting this thread a lot in the next few days. I'm probably the only published poet here. I have a massive stack o' poetry. I will probably just reel it off here.

Here goes:


The words, they listen

Sighing silently, as they speak

Knowing that they kill

Knowing that they hate

And they listen.


Knowing that they love

Knowing that they care

Knowing that they are meaningless

Accepting they aren't there.

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I've won a couple slam-poetry contests (just at bars, nothing serious). I'll see if i can dig them up.

EDIT: Ahah! Found this in a folder."


"WHAT DO YOU SAY TO THE GIRL" - Alexandrija Bellamy

Social anxiety.

Noun. The discomfort or fear of interaction with other people.

Introversion. Shyness. The feeling of being put on a stage with the spotlight shining and

you've forgotten all of the lines of your part.

When I was six

I moved from Hue, Vietnam to a city in Britain. Carlisle.

And on the first day of preschool

I came home crying because

How are you supposed to make friends when all you can say is

"Hello" and  "Nice to meet you"

We moved a year later. 

I never made any friends.

My first panic attack was in seventh grade, 

my first day at a new school and

what do you say to the girl who freaks

out in the middle of chemistry and starts

crying, sobbing, into her notes because 

the world started closing in on her and 

she can't breathe? And the teacher is standing still,

pale because how often does this happen in middle class Montreal?

And what do you say to the girl who you've invited to a party

about a dozen times but she never R.S.V.P.s,

And what do you say to the girl who walks out of 

the elevator

as soon as you enter, her face hidden from your view but you can hear 

her muffled apology.

What do you say to the girl who cannot look 

you in the face when you interview

her for the job she's overqualified for

because she's got too much time at home


Do you tell her it's OK? Do you tell her you understand? Or do you shut up

and mind your business and secretly file her away as

a story to tell your friends over lunch, to chat about,

to marvel.

I've learned to deal with my anxiety. 

I can order at a restaurant,

I've started going out more.

I can answer the phone - most of the time

But it's always scared me. It still scares me. It will

never stop scaring me.

Edited by _Mataroyale_Modpacker_
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I want to join in!
But what to write? Conundrum...
Oh wait. There we go.

You look so confused.
"What are these strange words?" you cry.
"Answers!" You find none.

Five syllables here.
Seven more syllables here.
Are you happy now?

I just love Haiku.
So simple, so expressive.
And it doesn't rhyme...

Well, I guess it can.
It isn't against the rules.
But I suck at that.

(Some of these are mine,
some I just shamelessly stole.
But that's okay, right?)

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