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JJ Hutton Jul 2012
Nobody ever found a dead seagull.
They plan their final flight.

Nobody ever felt comfortable waiting in line.
They're too far away from the table wine.

Nobody ever got you, Rachel.
They can't chip through your glassy eyes.

Nobody ever got rid of a lie.
Their deceit  simmers into a wish.

Nobody ever married me.
They leave me for Jesus Christ and civil wars.

Nobody ever heard a juke joint singer hit a perfect note.
They applaud for black culture.

Nobody ever found a dead seagull.
Their feathers disintegrate under the ocean's weight.

Nobody ever felt comfortable at a wedding.
They sit curious about the contents under the wedding dress.

Nobody ever got you, Rachel.
They try to pull you down from your high heels.

Nobody ever got rid of their parents.
They settle for calling long distance.

Nobody ever married me.
They only nod at my longwinded history.

Nobody ever heard a fine-combed politician stutter.
They picket sign and roll their eyes.

Nobody ever found a dead seagull.
They control the waves with ghostly wings.

Nobody ever felt comfortable holding a newborn.
They look at porcelain skin like a loaded gun.

Nobody ever got you, Rachel.
They can't afford your grace.

Nobody ever got rid of a former lover.
They avert their eyes as they stroll by.

Nobody ever married me.
They complain about their fiancees.

Nobody ever heard a mother say, "Everything won't be alright."
They find out when the rent comes due.

Nobody ever found a dead seagull,
and they will never find me and you.
Mateuš Conrad Dec 2015
the reason behind some of my poetry: i do appreciate the fact that some of them are sloppy, and aim at crafting an expansion of the vocabulary i already have, but as i drink i relax it happens automatically, but i know i can return to the sober reality of increased volume - all i know is that when i do this unwinding into what i can only call abstraction, it's because i'm entering the joycean domain of finnegans wake, which isn't exactly brothers grimm or disney territory, given that the book is dedicated to his struggle with his daughter's diagnosis of schizophrenia. one example comes with words like the prefix nou(n)- and the suffix -verb, which i borrowed from the kantian transformation of the word phenomenon (that which can be clearly understood due to the no. of similar analogues, and their seemingly constant re-, i.e. repetition, recurrence, re-emergence), hence the meaning i derived from the new word is: the activity behind a noun, e.g.: wheel... wheels rotate on a flat surface, and due to gravity roll down hills; another e.g.? bird - birds sing in varying degrees of diversity and they fly, and share a common origin with reptiles, since they hatch from eggs. i think that's enough examples behind the meaning nouverb... perhaps i might change it to nouneverb, because if translated into french, the french might make connotations with noué vogue, and i don't want this word to mean simply new verb, but the activity behind the noun.*

poets are known to use technical terms of poetry,
to invoke a knowledge of the topic,
perhaps even to condense matter, nonetheless
they use technical terms for balance, and orientation
in what they're saying, the key indicators as it were;
but i find it strange that in every philosophy
book i read, there are no prime technical terms:
of course you will find logic compounds,
like phenomenology, ontology, metaphysics,
but you find that such balancing acts require
a constant reminder of these words, and when
inserted into very long expression, there is no
prime balance with the words that i have not seen
expressed in any philosophy book i read,
whether it be heidegger, kant, kierkegaard,
sartre, nietzsche, tatarkiewicz, whoever -
none of them use grammatical words, nor have
produced an account of the dynamic when
deviating from standard lessons in grammar
which can be longwinded - and an absolute
dross; my english teacher didn't like to teach it,
in my two years under him we have less
than a dozen lessons, most concerned with
writing formal letters, and whether to end
the letter signing under either yours sincerely
or yours faithfully... the expectation was to
speak it fluently and mould the written language
from that - if it's comprehensible with the tongue,
it will be comprehensible with the quill.
but enough of that, i'm still adamant to stress
my censorship of dreaming, perhaps because
i just loathe freud and find jung quirky enough
with his religiosity and that book of his
about hallucinations and telekinesis like in that
film interstellar where the books fall from the shelf,
but it's primarily because there is a more important
subplot: today i woke up and remembered something
from 20 years ago, primary school, year 5 (aged 9),
our teacher called in sick and we were left to our
own devices, we were assigned the task of doing
long-division mathematics, and long-multiplication,
the whole class was in furore, but i just did the
****** task (fresh off the boat, you know, vito corleone
ambition and what not) - teacher's name ms. mcguire -
the teacher came back, scolded the whole class
excluding me - then she gave instructions to do the
assignment i did the previous day, and she told me
i could do whatever i wanted... just like the whole
class the previous day... so i read a book.
oh hell, if we're going that far back... pst... a secret,
on the gants hill roundabout there used to stand
a magnolia coloured cinema, the odeon...
i remember seeing armageddon there even though
a few hours prior i fell into a pseudo-epileptic fit
(a weird sensation in the head, crawling into the jaws,
i clenched my jaws, and then a spasm that travelled
into my stomach and started the convulsions and
the pain increased... i've had about three of these
in my life... for days on end after the last one,
i kept falling to sleep in fear... a fear of clenching my
teeth) - oh and the mummy, the little princess
(even though i bought a ticket for jumanji),
gladiator, lord of the rings fellowship of the ring
(about 3 times if not more), mission impossible,
the three kings when i broke one of the seats and
fell on my ***... but back then cinema tickets were
bearably affordable... not anymore... and it took
ages for the film to be available on vhs (when
blockbuster was still around - actually, there is one
left near the loughton central line station - a bit
back to the future for me; yeah, and valentines park
nearby where you could play 18 hole short-distance
golf, but that's also gone - now all you have is a block
of flats... just a massive vitro phallus.
Marian Jan 2014
I just want to thank you so much
For being so kind to me
Ever since I was born
You have never no never
Been mean to me or ever acted cruel
Quite the opposite...
You have loved me
Ever since day one
You have been gentle and sweet
And good and kind
Loving parents
I couldn't ask for a better
Mom and Dad
Sorry if I have ever
Done anything to offend you
Because you two are very SPECIAL
And there's never been
Another sweeter Mom and Dad
All I want to do though
Is ease your daily stress
I'd rather go through
The stress both of you have
And heap it upon myself
Than for you to EVER feel it
I'd rather place all of your hard times
Upon myself and carry them
Upon my back
Trying to wade through ocean of Life
With your sorrows and ANYTHING unpleasant
All lifted to from you and placed upon me
I feel so happy that you're here
To keep me company
And that's why I have such
A phobia of loneliness when you're not here
It's because I love you dearly
And I hope you'll ALWAYS know that
I'd better bring this to an end
Or else I'll be quick to get longwinded
But I just wanted to thank
Both of you
For all you do
And all you have done
Or ever will do
Since day one

*~Marian~
Dedicated to BOTH of my parents...my Dad Timothy and Mom Hilda!!! :) ~~~~<3
Thank you so much for all you have done for me since day one!!! :) ~~~~~~<3
Your deeds do NOT remain unseen or unnoticed!!! :) ~~~~<3
LOVE YOU BOTH FOREVER AND ALWAYS!!!! :) ~~~~~~<3 XOXO
Your ugly daughter, ~Marian~ (:
B Emess Dec 2013
THe two on tHE right

      OFfer no appeAL

     They the city their

     with shiny metal and

      Reflect
     only unnatural lights

      And longwinded rushing

      Or stop.    And go.  That

      sound of cars

Left      of these the me, I, am,

     is drawn in
     Siren Songs Touching
        
     my ears sink

     The only bridge with high arches

          And spelled out latin
     Words that house two Mermaids:

      Mermaids on both sides (responsible
     for the 'coos         ' )

     And near the middle of the bridge,
     there is a small plaque, only
     Visible when crossed properly
     (on foot) and reads:

     "BY sea and land we prospER"

     but by now i think it must be the other way around
Shay-za-di Apr 2014
the moment i see him 'up front'
my poor heart goes thud thud thud
my face hurts with the rush of the blood
excited, elated, jubilant and thrilled

what should i do? my breath I hold
should i say hi and risk being ignored
should i wait for him to take the lead
either way, leads to an uncertain road

i keep staring, and my mind takes a ride
the long journey we already had passed
full of mirth, yearning, conversations myriad
the affair he instigated and we both shaped

i start or he start, both happy and glad
when on the same wave length and band
unhappy when busy on the receiving end
longing and craving for the merry contentment

on days i don’t see him, my heart sinks to the end
the day becomes a chore, gets longwinded
can’t help wonder if the feeling is reciprocated
my unsaid want for him and his desires confessed

today, now, i see him and i hide as a coward
why? need reassurance he is not playing with my mind
whatever. i crave his words, his jokes and his touch
ethereal it is! but better than the real world

evoke his image & that’s all the reassurance i need
i go back to the page. click! & i’m a green dot
the mere gesture turning my face red
with excitement, ecstasy, thrill, & delight
M Clement Jun 2013
I am seething regret
I am the walls of the terrace which you broke down

Filibuster my longwinded-ness
And break the backs because of your freedoms

I am seething regret
We call it freedom of the body
I call it ******, and **** it, I will not be silenced

I am sick and ******* tired of children dying
I am sick and tired of mothers, fathers, sisters, and brothers crying.
We are so selfish, that we refuse life, because we believe our bodies have that right.

I am a man, yes, that is true.
I cannot speak from a woman's point of view.
But I guaran-*******-tee you
That my viewpoint would not change
If my genitals sank in rather than pushed out

I could spit tacks
And I could break backs
Watch me seethe and writhe

I don't want to hear your point of view,
I want to hear the sound of silence
Because no more children would be dying
For freedom
This is a harsh piece, but they are true feelings. If you'd like to discuss, please don't be put off by my anger. There are few places, save for poetry, that I can accurately express my feelings; I don't want what is written to be a deterrent for positive discussion.
Thank you.
Deanna Jun 2014
Sometimes I am longwinded
A twisting river that stretches across the continent.

But other times
I run out of words

And I am silence

Water vapor

No one ever listens to water vapor.
I don't think I like this but that last line.
Ken Pepiton Feb 2022
https://www.amazon.com/kindle-vella/episode/B09T28XRNY

kindle-vella, easy peasy longwinded see it if you wish 30 minute episodes, first three, always free, as what remains on HelloPoetry/
Traveler Jun 25
We cross paths year after year,
Your longwinded narratives
were never quite clear..
Now I can see you for who you are,
participant in separation
ethnic cleansing and war!

I don’t put you in darkness
Nor **** the disease
I don’t take it personal that you’ve been deceived.
But mostly,
what ever ethnicity you claim you are…
We all came down from the heavens
and we’re all made of stars.
Traveler 🧳 Tim

— The End —