Notions
A thoughtful space.
A quiet place,
Just for you and me.
State your belief,
Release your grief.
And let yourself be free.
​
​
America and Great Music
The hum of the wheels on asphalt,
Echoes of freedom, promises of lies,
The truth tastes bitter with the transit of time.
I was told once of freedom, equal signs.
On a battlefield of dead trees and blood pools,
Where the dead crop swings, full of strange fruit.
And the tempest blows away a soul unbalanced.
Like the ground underfoot, washed away and unsalvaged.
By the turn of the page, the beat of the drum, by the tick of the clock,
And the hum.
Of wheels, on asphalt.
​
By: Eva Hipp
Your Poem/Note/Thought/Musing/Writing Here
Bear Naked needs and respects your voice!
Email us at:
​
bearnakedstorytotell@gmail.com
​
with your poem, story, or any notion that you hold as truth (and is near and dear to your heart) and (with your approval) we will post it here!
Coming Soon
Coming Soon
Kate's Poem
I love unmade beds.
I love when people are drunk and crying and cannot be anything but honest in that moment.
I love the look in people’s eyes when they realize they’re in love.
I love the way people look when they first wake up and they’ve forgotten their surroundings.
I love the gasp people take when their favorite character dies.
I love when people close their eyes and drift to somewhere in the clouds.
I fall in love with people and their honest moments all the time.
I fall in love with their breakdowns and their smeared makeup and their daydreams.
Honesty is just too beautiful to ever put into words.
​
By: Jamie Campbell Bower
Joan Poem
Coming Soon
Dear Edward
Rain drops drip down a crippled house,
With hunched shoulders and broken steps.
From years of nature's hard lessons,
Peeled paint exposes bare flesh.
​
With hunched shoulders and broken steps,
You dwell on past transgressions.
Peeled paint exposes bare flesh,
Working class subjections.
​
You dwell on past transgressions,
Had there never been the crippled house,
Working class subjections,
The house that tied you down.
​
Had there never been the crippled house,
Rain drops drip down a crippled house,
The house that tied you down,
From years of nature's hard lessons.
​
By: Eva Hipp