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normaljosephine
normaljosephine
I'm an American transplant to German soil. I love sunshine on my face, a cup of hot Chai in my hands, my crazy wonderful family, and the opportunity to wax poetic whenever I feel like it!
I#m drunk on the ***** I drank after mushooms I ate that just might have stuff that can **** me. Iäm drunk on the champagne that stank of the cheap aperol that I bought when on discount at LIDL. I6m drunk and I don't want to bank on the pictures of mushrooms that have no intention of killing. I*m drunk in my bed I just sank to ignore all the horror of leaving my kids with no mother.
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Nov 15, 2018
Nov 15, 2018 at 3:34 PM UTC
drunk on mushrooms
Crouching in the dark Amid creaky lawn chairs and open tailgates My neck hairs bristle with the late night expectation of wonder This time, I say will be the best one ever known. My heart races all the way to Frankfurt Eyes scan the open sky For signs of gloriousness on the horizon Then thunder, and light The unfolding of a Chinaman's dream In a dazzling display of superficiality A blinding flash of color and sound and awe Ash rains down in golden sparks Leaving the acrid smell of gunsmoke And the cavernous darkness Of eyes that had just known light Left wanting, left yearning, left needing The show is over They fly back home. I'm tearless and just a bit confused.
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Nov 14, 2018
Nov 14, 2018 at 4:15 AM UTC
Pop! Zisch! Ooh! Aw...
Clarity in a cup clears the fog inside my mind In the moments just before I was half awake and blind. Now I'm full of **** and vinegar The day has just begun Wrote some lines to praise the java Now let's go and have some fun!
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Nov 14, 2018
Nov 14, 2018 at 1:27 AM UTC
A toast to medium roast
Get with it! You simply haven't created the color to color this moment. Is it ochre or umber, Saffron or mustard? Is it sap green or yellow-green Or just plain gold? It's none of these because none of those can illuminate my soul The way these November vineyards do.
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Nov 13, 2018
Nov 13, 2018 at 2:51 PM UTC
C'mon Crayola!
We grab love in fits and snatches Under cover of night We bask in the glow The perfect spot is RIGHT HERE RIGHT NOW Urgency fanning The flame of decision We shed our skins like little children Full of glee And revel in this moment.
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Nov 13, 2018
Nov 13, 2018 at 2:36 PM UTC
The Bench
Don't tell me I'm pretty Tell me that I'm passionate That I have drive Tell me that I make you laugh That I know how to make your day better Don't tell me I seem nice Tell me that I'm kind and compassionate Tell me that I'm not afraid to dream and to dream big Don't tell me I'm perfect Tell me the you love me despite my flaws That you want to spend the rest of your life with me Don't tell me I'm beautiful Tell me that you'll be faithful and forever true
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Nov 3, 2018
Nov 3, 2018 at 11:28 AM UTC
Don't Tell me I'm pretty
There's a naked that shrugs at my moles And then lovingly pats at the holes That were drilled when I asked them to tie Up my tubes and then simply not try To imagine a little one after the two that were already gracing our lives. There's a naked that sees where I've bled and the burns from emergency bread that I baked when I needed a slice just to drown out a feeling, quite nice Of surrendering to the temptation of running away. There's a naked that loves me for me when I'm too tired to look down to see That my fingers aren't painted, and toes are still tainted with green from the grass That I mowed before hubby got home. There's a naked that brings me to tears When the tension from all of my fears is then lifted by hands that still know That I'm never to grown up to grow Oh the pleasure of drifting away when he holds me as I fall asleep. There's a naked that laughs in the dark When I feel that familiar spark of the love that I sealed with a vow So I reach out and savor the now As he holds and caresses each beautiful part of my world.
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Nov 3, 2018
Nov 3, 2018 at 9:49 AM UTC
Sweet kind of naked...
Not really late, but late enough to feel disembodied from the person I am, from the person I want to be, from the person others want me to be. Another person in the night, who itches with longing to live for herself, to live for more than show, to live for just the moment. I can't scratch this itch, It tingles deep beneath the surface to be the one who rings true, to be the one who feels calm, to be the one I truly am.
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Nov 2, 2018
Nov 2, 2018 at 6:09 PM UTC
late night itch
You're like the shiny red apple, picked for its outward perfection. Sliced open, rotten, with the grainy leftovers of a worm quite comfortable to be flying incognito in your heart. Whitewashed tomb, with decay at your core.
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Nov 2, 2018
Nov 2, 2018 at 5:12 PM UTC
Shine Schein
A glance toward the clouds, Eyes willing the pregnant sky to burst, To shower life onto the barren earth, The dry places of her heart. Places in need of refreshment, Of the baby leaf green of the new, Rain. Come. Now.
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Oct 31, 2018
Oct 31, 2018 at 6:49 PM UTC
In Hoffnung