If you want to be a good big sister,
Be disgusted
When your brother
First shows his face into
The world.
Complain to your mother
How you didn’t want a brother,
And instead wished for a sister.
As the days go by,
Start to warm up to him
But don’t admit it yet.
When he’s older,
Turn him into the sister that
You never got to have.
Dress him up,
In all sorts of things:
Dresses, skirts, skinny jeans and high heels.
Paint his nails,
do his makeup,
put his hair up,
Make him pretty.
Force him to come to your tea parties,
And make him gossip with Mrs. McStuffins.
When he starts to grow
Into his boy identity,
Make him be the ken to your barbie,
And force him to play with you and your dolls.
If you want to be a good big sister,
When your brother starts to get bigger,
Don’t let him turn into
One of those normal teenage dirtbags.
Show him who is in charge,
By showing him who is still bigger than him.
Wrestle him,
Tickle him,
Shove him,
Push his face into the couch and hold it there.
Make him so mad and angry
That he cannot yet beat you up.
Say to him,
“Maybe one day, little bro.
But right now is not your time.
Right now, I rule this house.”
If you want to be a good big sister,
Show him what good music sounds like,
And get him to stop listening to that trashy techno music.
Teach him indie rock,
And classic rock,
And all those genres that were on your Spotify wrapped.
Show him The Smiths,
Clairo,
Lord Huron,
Arctic Monkeys,
The Neighborhood,
And The Strokes.
If you want to be a good big sister,
Guide him through those hard years,
Those years from 14-20.
When he’s trying to find his own identity,
But he doesn’t know where to start.
Help him through his first break up,
The one with the girl who cheated on him.
He may be acting all tough,
Not hurt,
Unbothered,
But know deep down that he needs you.
He needs you to show him
That its okay to feel his emotions:
His sadness
Heartbreak
Anger,
Betrayal,
And eventually his hope.
Show him that just because he is a boy,
He doesn’t have to be tough,
But can cry and ask
“Why did she do this,
What did I do?”
If you want to be a good big sister,
Show your brother how to treat a woman right:
Respect her choices,
Respect her body,
No means no,
Open doors for her,
Buy her random gifts,
Know that periods are hard for her,
And always listen to her talk.
But also show him
how he should be treated in life
As a strong and respectful man.
He shouldn’t be
Walked all over,
But instead respected for his good manners.
He shouldn’t be
Expected to pay for every date,
Or everything
Just because he is a man.
He should be allowed,
To cry,
And laugh
And be disappointed
And be angry
And have bad days,
Just so long as he never takes it out on someone.
If you want to be a good big sister,
Just show your brother that it is okay
To be a human and make mistakes.
Eventually,
Through all your torture and lessons,
He will one day see you
As the good big sister that you are.
You set your timer for 30 minutes
Though you plan to stall
You turn on the power
Login to your account
Type in the password
Play your game
And play your game
And right when you are about to lose yourself
You have obligations
Set your timer for an hour
Still plan to stall
Turn on power
Login account
Type password
Play your game
And eventually lose yourself
For but a moment
Go eat something
Timer for who knows
Power
Login
Password
Lose yourself
Be everywhere
Have all of it
All the time
This is your world now
The woods are so deep that I cannot see
This darkest evening enveloping me
Silence of the village that god forsake
As icy and cold as the frozen lake
But through my lantern I can barely see
Something so small that it can hardly be
And the light bounces off a single flake
And brilliant glow of light it does make
Then on this evening it begins to snow
It rests on the hill and the down and the bow
A kind easy wind then rustles the frost
And I overcome feel no longer lost
The wind guides me through its many soft blows
All the way down to a path that I know
As I walk, I see a woods pure and glossed
I shudder to think that I almost crossed
The sun has finally emerged, the darkness seemed perpetual—
A little boy chases a bee, his feet as fast as lightning.
The buses pass by and by again bringing people as far as they can go.
How can one feel trapped in a place so beautiful?
A little boy chases a bee, his feet as fast as lightning.
He yells into the air and screams for his mother.
How can one feel trapped in a place so beautiful?
With the sunlight, it is easier to make the time slow down.
Things to take note of:
the feeling of their hand
the look in their eyes
the way their face has changed in your eyes
the feeling of their hair
the shape of their eyes
where they liked to be kissed
how as well
their favorite movies and tv shows
definitely their favorite books and songs too
the classes they take
the sound of their voice
what they like about you
what you like about them
Greed and guilt.
Should we create a future?
A generation to fix what we can’t.
Or is that unfair?
Is it wrong to want children?
No one chooses to be born.
Is it a want born from greed?
Will guilt inevitably ensue?
Lay in bed
Click the snooze when it rings
5 more minutes
10 more minutes
15 minutes. Get up
Shake it off
Stretch it out
Meditate (get a couple of sneaky naps in)
Sit up right
Stand up
Let the sun in
Run to the sink
Splash cold water on your face
Brush teeth
Get dressed
Try that new style you’ve been contemplating
Play that new album you’ve been waiting to listen too
Dance it out
Sing it out
Cry it out
Scream it out
Clean it out
Walk it out
Get a sip or two of water in
Order your favorite breakfast food
Who cares if it’s lunch or dinner
When the sunsets get into bed
Close your eyes
9 responses to “Form Poems (Tues)”
If You Want to be a Good Big Sister
If you want to be a good big sister,
Be disgusted
When your brother
First shows his face into
The world.
Complain to your mother
How you didn’t want a brother,
And instead wished for a sister.
As the days go by,
Start to warm up to him
But don’t admit it yet.
When he’s older,
Turn him into the sister that
You never got to have.
Dress him up,
In all sorts of things:
Dresses, skirts, skinny jeans and high heels.
Paint his nails,
do his makeup,
put his hair up,
Make him pretty.
Force him to come to your tea parties,
And make him gossip with Mrs. McStuffins.
When he starts to grow
Into his boy identity,
Make him be the ken to your barbie,
And force him to play with you and your dolls.
If you want to be a good big sister,
When your brother starts to get bigger,
Don’t let him turn into
One of those normal teenage dirtbags.
Show him who is in charge,
By showing him who is still bigger than him.
Wrestle him,
Tickle him,
Shove him,
Push his face into the couch and hold it there.
Make him so mad and angry
That he cannot yet beat you up.
Say to him,
“Maybe one day, little bro.
But right now is not your time.
Right now, I rule this house.”
If you want to be a good big sister,
Show him what good music sounds like,
And get him to stop listening to that trashy techno music.
Teach him indie rock,
And classic rock,
And all those genres that were on your Spotify wrapped.
Show him The Smiths,
Clairo,
Lord Huron,
Arctic Monkeys,
The Neighborhood,
And The Strokes.
If you want to be a good big sister,
Guide him through those hard years,
Those years from 14-20.
When he’s trying to find his own identity,
But he doesn’t know where to start.
Help him through his first break up,
The one with the girl who cheated on him.
He may be acting all tough,
Not hurt,
Unbothered,
But know deep down that he needs you.
He needs you to show him
That its okay to feel his emotions:
His sadness
Heartbreak
Anger,
Betrayal,
And eventually his hope.
Show him that just because he is a boy,
He doesn’t have to be tough,
But can cry and ask
“Why did she do this,
What did I do?”
If you want to be a good big sister,
Show your brother how to treat a woman right:
Respect her choices,
Respect her body,
No means no,
Open doors for her,
Buy her random gifts,
Know that periods are hard for her,
And always listen to her talk.
But also show him
how he should be treated in life
As a strong and respectful man.
He shouldn’t be
Walked all over,
But instead respected for his good manners.
He shouldn’t be
Expected to pay for every date,
Or everything
Just because he is a man.
He should be allowed,
To cry,
And laugh
And be disappointed
And be angry
And have bad days,
Just so long as he never takes it out on someone.
If you want to be a good big sister,
Just show your brother that it is okay
To be a human and make mistakes.
Eventually,
Through all your torture and lessons,
He will one day see you
As the good big sister that you are.
Villanelle of a Ghost
In this house, there is a ghost.
He pays no rent, to my frustration,
At least I live down by the coast.
He’s sneaky when he steals my post,
Impish when he tramples my vegetation.
In this house, there is a ghost.
Oh, and how he likes to boast
Of his many years of education.
At least I live down by the coast.
Today he ate my honey toast,
and asked about my isolation.
In this house, there is a ghost.
I’m forced to play reluctant host,
As he meddles with this observation.
At least I live down by the coast.
Secretly I’m grateful, almost.
His absurdity quiets my desolation.
In this house, there is a ghost.
At least I live down by the coast.
Internet restrictions
You set your timer for 30 minutes
Though you plan to stall
You turn on the power
Login to your account
Type in the password
Play your game
And play your game
And right when you are about to lose yourself
You have obligations
Set your timer for an hour
Still plan to stall
Turn on power
Login account
Type password
Play your game
And eventually lose yourself
For but a moment
Go eat something
Timer for who knows
Power
Login
Password
Lose yourself
Be everywhere
Have all of it
All the time
This is your world now
“The Woods”
The woods are so deep that I cannot see
This darkest evening enveloping me
Silence of the village that god forsake
As icy and cold as the frozen lake
But through my lantern I can barely see
Something so small that it can hardly be
And the light bounces off a single flake
And brilliant glow of light it does make
Then on this evening it begins to snow
It rests on the hill and the down and the bow
A kind easy wind then rustles the frost
And I overcome feel no longer lost
The wind guides me through its many soft blows
All the way down to a path that I know
As I walk, I see a woods pure and glossed
I shudder to think that I almost crossed
The sun has finally emerged, the darkness seemed perpetual—
A little boy chases a bee, his feet as fast as lightning.
The buses pass by and by again bringing people as far as they can go.
How can one feel trapped in a place so beautiful?
A little boy chases a bee, his feet as fast as lightning.
He yells into the air and screams for his mother.
How can one feel trapped in a place so beautiful?
With the sunlight, it is easier to make the time slow down.
Things to take note of:
the feeling of their hand
the look in their eyes
the way their face has changed in your eyes
the feeling of their hair
the shape of their eyes
where they liked to be kissed
how as well
their favorite movies and tv shows
definitely their favorite books and songs too
the classes they take
the sound of their voice
what they like about you
what you like about them
Greed and guilt.
Should we create a future?
A generation to fix what we can’t.
Or is that unfair?
Is it wrong to want children?
No one chooses to be born.
Is it a want born from greed?
Will guilt inevitably ensue?
Ways to shake off the rut:
Lay in bed
Click the snooze when it rings
5 more minutes
10 more minutes
15 minutes. Get up
Shake it off
Stretch it out
Meditate (get a couple of sneaky naps in)
Sit up right
Stand up
Let the sun in
Run to the sink
Splash cold water on your face
Brush teeth
Get dressed
Try that new style you’ve been contemplating
Play that new album you’ve been waiting to listen too
Dance it out
Sing it out
Cry it out
Scream it out
Clean it out
Walk it out
Get a sip or two of water in
Order your favorite breakfast food
Who cares if it’s lunch or dinner
When the sunsets get into bed
Close your eyes
Good Morning
Repeat it all again
My best friend is a boy
Who is too gentle for the rest
He never broke a single toy
He cares for baby birds with joy
Dresses up in his Sunday Best
My best friend is a boy
He passes me love letters so coy
But doesn’t see me as a quest
He never broke a single toy
He has the face of a newsboy
Kindly treat strangers as guests
My best friend is a boy
He became a ploy
To the girl who left him depressed
He never broke a single toy
I hope he does enjoy
This poem I wrote in jest
My best friend is a boy
He never broke a single toy