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ok okay Jul 2018
The lull of a restless night relieves my senses
It's monotone silence maintains my breath
The cold night breeze enters through an open window
It whispers soft tunes and attempts to put me to sleep
The humming of an exhausted laptop helps me decompress
It distracts me from overthinking and blocks out my stress
As the night goes on it starts to rain
It comforts my senses and cleanses my pain
This time-worn house cracks and creaks
It talks of troubled times and how it came to be
This place I call home proves i’m never alone
And it's always there to support me
3rd poem. Enjoy :)
Loose thoughts Mar 2015
When you're in such a mess,
You know its not just stress,
Self too tangled, can't decompress,
Too complicated to express.

~A.d | 13 Dec 2014
eb  Sep 2014
I am air.
eb Sep 2014
I am air;
I am everywhere.

I am the breeze in the trees,
I am the moving clouds above,
I am the wind,
dancing as I pass

I am air;
I am everywhere.

I expand;
I decompress;
I warm;
I cool;

I am air;
I am everywhere.

I am the breathe in you,
I am the swirling feeling in your stomach,
I am the oxygen,
encompassing every part of you.

I am air;
I am everywhere.

I am in the heavens,
I am in the balloons,
I am in the rivers,
I am in the reeds,

I am air;
I am everywhere.

I am invisible,
but I am there.
I am nowhere,
but I am everywhere.
Cné Mar 2017
skimming the feed of poetry
reading the works of poets
liking here and there
without ever a care
some of us rather copiously
we all have our favorites
but the poem is just the beginning
of the start with a spark

if you never look at the activity
you are missing the best part
it's the jam that turns me on
in comments short or long
continuing the song

so don't be offended
of the flame that's ignited
its all rather splendid
to fire the wordplay excited
it's not really a contest
but more of a sinuous ebb and flow
hoping for a laugh or looking to decompress
when you have a day that blows
all of you at hp inspire me
https://youtu.be/ABFtbYKW-QY
NeroameeAlucard Oct 2014
Anybody else got that one person or song
You could go without it all day long
You could be angrier than a dog with rabies
Or someone who got robbed daily

Why is it that when that person or song Hppens to be around or on that all of a days Aonizing moments seem to just slip on by
To another place or another time in rhyme

It's like all those bad vibes fall apart when Something like that touches the heart
This is an odd little occurrence but im sure it's a normal occurrence Helping me decompress and acquiesce too I guess that mood changer is all we need Sometimes


(hint, pay attention to the capital letters)
The world's out of order
My life is a mess
I need a weekend of chillin'
To help decompress
A few days of football
And drinks and good friends
Will fix up my mood
And get this blackness to end

My wife's with another
And my car died en route
To my place of employment
So, I got the boot
The dog found a new friend
he met up with a skunk
And what's left of my house
Has a wonderful funk

I'm sitting here working on Sunday's headache
Even though it's still only Friday
I'm running a tab, cause the bank's overdrawn
It's a bourbon and beer and a rye day

My ex called this morning
Said our daughters in jail
And she has no money
to help pay the bail
That black cloud of dismal
Still over my head
I should have rolled over
And stayed home in bed

They say your problems
happen in threes
Multiply that by five
And it happened to me
So it's time to move on
Sit and chill for a while
Forget all the crap
And just sit, drink, and smile

I'm sitting here working on Sunday's headache
Even though it's still only Friday
I'm running a tab, cause the bank's overdrawn
It's a bourbon and beer and a rye day
Bjørn O Holter Apr 2014
The Doctors point and whisper
With crude and handmade tools.
Pinch and cut and decompress
like blood soaked sweating ghouls.
A slash, a snap, a sting
make a finger move.
The swollen eye, it twitches
and the mouth begins to drool.

Still no heartbeat, still no life
in the body, three days dead,
yet there is the softest sentence
uttered by the head;
Slipping slug-like out
from desperate lips in dread.
With unfocused twitching eyes
this is what it said:

"Let this one thing still be sacred;
The shroud between the dead and living.
Let the sleeping dogs now lie,
The Dead we're never meant to sing.
"Don't bring Death to Living lands
Don't take back the hourglass sand.
Leave the idols where they stand.
Leave the blood on bloodstained hands."

The doctor ***** his head:
"Is there movement in the brain?"
Another doctor shakes his own:
"None that can sustain"
Sowing shut his lips they say:
"Disturb us not again".
But a wordless sorrow is intact
in the soul that still remains.

Once again they dig in deeper
to find the glitch that kills.
With their knives and scissors
and noises crude and shrill.
The dead head slowly drops
with eyes wet, wide and still,
that meet the eye of a mocking bird
upon the window sill.
Another one dragged from the vaults of my notebooks, written in 2011 or so...
kenye Jul 2016
Now that
I’ve told
you all my secrets

Won’t you come
in the night
and ****** me
with the truth?

Push me down,
and tie me to the bed
that I made
Freudian-slipping
between layers of
in vino veritas
conversations


When I manifested
from under the mask
where I just
want to be accepted
as both the light
and my shadow

Won’t you come
pull my dark passenger
from the
dark
depths
of my sacral chakra?

My deepest desires
spiraling out,
you've
got me
wrapped around
your finger

I am the snake
coiled around
the core
of the sweetest
fruit
I just want to
savor

Then slither
back home

To the
Goddess of the Abode

To decompress
this tension

To Rise up and
slit my throat
at the vortex
of expression
Jack Turner Sep 2012
Let's get away and put the mind at ease.
Let's relax and focus upon the sweet, salty ocean breeze.
Fold up the newspaper and tuck it away,
De-stress and decompress from all that is everyday.
So let's lean back a little more in this beach chair of ours,
Stretching out a little more to get the sand between our toes,
Tucked in the sand, sticking out and sun-brown like little pieces of drift wood.
The warmth of the sun combined with ocean spray in the wind
Hits perfectly upon our changing from light to dark brown skin.
We've never been one to have an umbrella drink in hand
But our Mexican beer with lime sits next to us sweating in the sand.
So as the day wears on we'll chit and chat, talking about this and that,
Watching the sun slide down we pull lower our beat up old straw hat
To better hide what is an already sun-burnt face
In this, what over the years has become our quiet place.
It's more than true that time goes quickly when having fun,
And we barely remember where and when we had begun.
Regardless, we wonder how it has possibly gone so fast and where it went,
But not a moment would we not consider time well spent.
Ashly Kocher  Mar 2019
Breath
Ashly Kocher Mar 2019
I’m finding myself very stressed
I think it’s time to decompress
1
2
3
Breath
3
2
1
Breath
B
R
E
A
T
H
Stress free....
If it was only that
E
A
S
Y
Quinn  Oct 2016
decompress
Quinn Oct 2016
there are days
where i stand in the
steaming heat of the
shower and feel my pores
purge days of giving,
giving, giving, until
i'm nothing but a bag
of skin and bones

i stand there and repeat
to myself as many times
as it takes, "allow yourself
to be the woman you are"

this is what i call cleansed
They met while still in high school

Most likely to succeed

They had big plans for college

They were on their way indeed

She dropped out while a junior

He continued to the end

She left to have their baby

Their plans, they must ammend

They married down at city hall

Their parents did not know

He wore an old, ill fitting suit

In her dress, she did not show

But here she was, six months along

Their perfect world was done

They were not sure how they would get by

With the addition of their son

He was trained to be an architect

But he started sweeping floor

Interviews were hard to get

Unless you knew the name upon the door

She got a job in retail

Working afternoons each day

It wasn't what they planned on

But they needed her small pay

They had a small apartment

More a garret than a pad

But, in the area they wanted

It was the cheapest that they had

Two years went by and another child

Had increased their home to four

He was working as an architect

And was no longer sweeping floors

Since college though, he'd had a curse

A devil you might think

For to keep himself under control

He was sneaking nightly drinks

As pressure grew and deadlines loomed

His drinking did increase

He was now a junior partner

At the firm of Flint and Meece

He was fighting with his wife alot

The kids were just more stress

But, he bottled up his problems

And he chose not to address

The fact that they were fighting

He was drinking every night

And when she called him on it

They would end up in a fight

He was going in hung over

Some days, he just stayed home

And when they called him from the office

He would not pick up the phone

One day though he went over

the line out there in space

When the wife and he were fighting

He hit her in the face

He didn't know just what to do

He went down for a drink

He needed time to decompress

He needed time to think

She called in sick for her next shift

She stayed home for two weeks

She stayed home till the bruise was gone

And the swelling from her cheeks

His drinking kept evolving

He was hiding it no more

Plans were being made at work

To take his name off of the door

He'd shown up drunk for meeting

His plans were never in on time

They offered him assistance

He refused..there lies the crime

The kids withdrew and feared him

They'd rather eat with friends instead

They'd only come home after dinner

When it was time to go to bed

Another fight ensued at home

When they fired him at last

He beat his wife up so bad this time

She ended up inside a cast

Her arm was badly broken

Charges she refused to lay

But the cops who came to see them

Chose to lay them anyway

This was her chance to make a move on

She packed the kids up late at night

While he was in his jail cell

She booked them all on a late flight

Her family would take them

She would move them to the west

She would start her life without him

It would be for the best

When he got out and found her gone

He sat down, had a few

He didn't have a family,

He had no idea what to do

Instead of phoning to her folks

To see if they'd arrived

He went on a ***** ******

Which most would not survive

He drank from when he broke the day

Most times, well after four

Then he'd drink until he would pass out

And would spend the night there on the floor

He reached the point of no return

When the sherrif came one day

He said "It's time for you to leave this house"

"Unless the taxes, you can pay"

He'd let things slide, and had no funds

His world was on the brink

But, instead of fixing things on up

He went looking for a drink

He spent some time in missions

Trying to find work he could do

But, when he would only get rejected

He turned to devil's brew

His reputation sullied

There was no work in his field

He tried to find work elsewhere

He would see what things would yield

He got jobs working labouring

Warehouses, car washes and such

But, when he kept on missing shifts

And was still drinking as a crutch

He got kicked out of the missions

He refused to toe the line

He would rather be out drinking

******* on some cheap *** wine

He was living by the train tracks

In the cedars, in the woods

He was sleeping in a sleeping bag

He was existing as he could

His drink of choice was anything

That would make his pain just go

He was drinking aqua velva

And in a pinch he drink sterno

The devil had his soul tight

He was on his way to hell

If his life was a big boxing match

This was his final bell

He had the world at his command

A family, and career

But, when alcohol took him over

He lost all that was dear

He'd climbed on up the  mountain

Worked his way up to the peak

But, his body was not strong enough

When the devil chose to speak

His wife and kids, they did ok

Their lives had turned the page

His kids soon did forget him

He was from a different age

They found him in the park one night

When the volunteers came round

They brought food to the homeless

He was dead there on the ground

His body had just given up

His liver had just quit

He died there in the bushes

This kind of end...a perfect fit

He had no wallet with him

All his secrets, they were hid

But they found inside his pocket

A picture of his kids

He died alone and helpless

At the bottom, not the top

He did not have the where withall

Or strength of self to stop

He may have died with nothing

Maybe, he died full of guilt

But, the world in which he left us

Was a world that he had built.
.
A broken guitar tells me to shut it
on every rest note.
And I tell myself to
ditch old baggage
on the side of the road
to clean my tattered knapsack
of cobwebs and broken light bulbs.

So I divest,

Decompress in present
because right now, I'm at peace.
You speak over church bells
at the top of the hour
and I listen like
nothing else matters.
But I only hear the future
My future, your future, our future
                    the world's future.

It's not often,
but every once in a while
midnight slaps me with a sound
I can't explain.
Even if I explain myself
I ramble around the point
like an arrow with no tip.

The weird thing about time
is it's a lot like music,
or a galaxy,
but right in the palm
of soft hands and ambitious souls
It only makes sense with experience,
and getting lost in a pavilion
of nervous butterflies
only seen in lucid dreams.

The world is old. We're young.
We're lost. And so is everyone else.
Tell me about your favorite constellation,
your favorite letter of the alphabet,
what makes you tick,
and why.

One day, after learning about your spectrum,
and where it intersects with mine
we'll dance in space.
I'll come to my senses
and question nothing

Not even the silence between our lips.

— The End —