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Christian  Jan 2011
repeat
Christian Jan 2011
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sometimes it feels like everything repeats itself.
sometimes it feels like everything repeats itself.
Laura  May 2015
Repeat
Laura May 2015
Wake up. Half dazed. Another day. Once again.
Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.
Get Up. Clothes on. Down the stairs, eat the stale toast.
Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.
Get in car. Drive off to work. Fight the traffic. Make it on time.
Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.
Sit at desk. Hear complaints. Boss, not happy. Big shock.
Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.
Unfold the tuna sandwich, take a bite. Hear coworkers mull and gripe.
Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.
Fill the forms, do the inventory. Fall asleep at desk. Good God the Boredom.
Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.
Get in car. Drive back home. Take off those work clothes. Collapse on the couch.
Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.
Surf the web. Read the book. Watch the news.
Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.
Put on pajamas. Brush the teeth. Get in bed.
Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

Always repeating….
What am I reaping?
Is this what I have to look forward to in life?
If this is true, dear Lord, take me so.
Your kingdom must be more fulfilling.
Lather, rinse, repeat.
Lather, rinse, repeat.
Soak, wash, repeat.
Sweep, sweep, repeat.
Wipe, wipe, repeat.
Scrub, scrub, repeat.
Dice, dice, repeat.
Wipe, dry, repeat.
The tears that are good.
Pour, stir, repeat.
Open the door.
Serve the food.
Greet, greet the guests.
Smile, talk, repeat.
Say bye-bye, repeat.
Massage, press, repeat.
Yelp in pain.
Grab your abdomen.
Rub, press, repeat.
Let the sari unwrap.
Shake your head no.
Oh oh.
Run, hide, cry, plead.
Rub your stinging cheek.
Sob, sob, repeat.
Dab, dab, repeat.
The tears that are deserved.
Press your straining scalp.
Grab tight the bed sheet.
Groan, hiss , repeat.
Fake, fake, repeat.
Pain, pain.
Again!
Sore, sore, all over.
Go make a drink and then,
Massage, press, repeat.
Pick up the nephew.
Ignore the daughter’s lies.
Pat, pat repeat.
Put him down to sleep.
Sing the lullabies.
See your daughter writhe.
Writhe, writhe, repeat.
Kiss your daughter’s hand.
Feel her skin burning.
Watch your daughter weep,
Cry herself to sleep.
One drop down then two.
The tears that are meaningless.
Lie down as if asleep.
Twist, turn, repeat.
Wake up before dawn.
Now, you put on.
Red, green, black and gold.
Vermillion, bangles, beads.
Lather, rinse, repeat.
Here is a little introduction to the lives of most housewives in India.
Gunner  May 2017
Skin
Gunner May 2017
Skin.
Skin by definition is a thin layer of tissue forming a natural outer covering of the body.
Skin is for people to tan, to clothe, apply make up to... to touch.

Itch, bleed, scab, repeat.

Mosquito bites.
Mosquito bites by definition are the itchy bumps that appear after mosquitoes use their proboscis to puncture your skin and feed on your blood.
Mosquito bites are for people to feel, to itch, to bleed, to scab and repeat. The entire cycle.

Itch, bleed, scab, repeat.

Summer.
Summer by definition is the warmest season of the year.
Summer is for t-shirts, shorts, exposure, swimming, tanning, skin, skin, skin, skin, skin.
"It's Summer, put on some shorts."
"It's Summer, why aren't you wearing a t-shirt?"
"It's Summer, let's go swimming!"
Summer is a time for these questions, these statements, these words to fester, to breed like muosquitos, to sting like the bite of a bug.

Itch, bleed, scab, repeat.
Itch, bleed, scab, repeat.

Dermatologist.
A Dermatologist by definition is a doctor that treats diseases, in the widest sense, and some cosmetic problems of the skin, skin, skin, skin, skin.
The Dermatologist tells me to use this and to use that. Lotions and potions, as my mother would say. Slather, rub, treat, swallow.

Itch, bleed, scab, repeat.
Itch, bleed, scab, repeat.

Skin care.
Skin care by definition is the range of practices that support skin integrity, enhance its appearance and relieve skin conditions.
Get up, shower, sterilizing soap, body oil, steroid cream, medicated lotion, drink water and repeat the process before bed. My daily cycle.

Itch, bleed, scab, repeat.
Itch, bleed, scab, repeat.

Seesaw.
A Seesaw by definition is to change rapidly and repeatedly from one position, situation, or condition to another and back again.
Seesaw, to push off the ground, into the air with a sense of victory and joy, only to fall hard to the ground with stinging ankles and sore calf's.
This isn't a playground anymore.
The Dermatologist says that if I don't get better, they'll have to put me on the pill.

Itch, bleed, scab, repeat.
Itch, bleed, scab, repeat.

The Pill.
The Pill is an oral treatment for my condition. My eczema.
One pill every morning at seven AM with food and an entire glass of water.
The risk associated with the pill- Osteoporosis,  Muscle weakness, Mood and Behavioral changes, Increase in chance of developing cataracts,  Stomach Ulcers and Liver Failure.
One pill every morning at seven AM with food and an entire glass of water. The daily cycle.

Itch, bleed, scab, repeat.
Itch, bleed, scab, repeat.
Itch, bleed, scab.... **** it.

I would rather my liver fail and my bones go brittle then to be stared at on the street!
"What is that?"
"Are you okay?"
"What's wrong with her?"
"Is it contagious?"
"Don't touch me!"
I itch, my nails dragging over my scarred skin and pulling at wounds. I bleed, the welts that crack and leak drops from the red river that flows silently beneath my skin. I scab, leaving horrible lumps of ugly, hardened flesh to coat the once smooth area. I repeat....

Well, I don't want to repeat! I want to be able wear the clothes I want, to walk the streets with out the judging and questioning eyes of the passersby on me, to be held and touched by a significant other without the fear that their fingers will fall upon my skin and recoil in disgust!

Without looking in the mirror and wondering when I can finally begin to love myself.

I decided that today is the day! No more Itching! No more Bleeding! No more Scabs! It's time to break this ******* cycle.
Ryan P Kinney Dec 2015
My Life is a Scratched CD (OR Blue Collar Lament- The Little Napper Remix)
Lines taken from poems by JM Romig (Ursa Somniculosa/CD Skipping Down Route 11) and Ryan Kinney (Blue Collar Lament)

It's long drive on this highway
The window creeks
- its jagged way down
I breathe in the new air for the first time in months
the CD starts skip-skip words
Hopping over - lines
Reminding me
Of finite fuel
repeat-
finite time
With work looming just hours away
repeat-
Death, just decades away

I spend most of my week
in the back of the factory
where I sell my free time
on repeat
in a semi-conscience trance
watching multi-million dollar machines work

repeat

in the back of the factory
where I sell my free time
is a constellation of dirt, chipped paint
and cobwebs
forming the shape
of a bear
lounging in a hammock

skip

They are more alive than I am.
Monday at 3 PM I click off my brain,
switch on automatic,
repeat
automatic
skip
- the countdown:-T-minus 40 hours.
Each minute that ticks by
in the dull monotony slowly steals my sanity,
bit by bit

Each minute closer to Friday
slower and slower,
until on Friday they seem to tick
backwards--

skip

I have coworkers
who insist that it's a monkey,
trapped in a net

Each day blurs into the other
making them indistinguishable.
Repeat-
My finite time
Monday,
the entirety of the previous week
on repeat-
T-minus 40 hours.

skip

they are wrong.
It's clearly a bear

In the back of the factory
where I sell my free time
repeat-
Death - just decades away.
The dictator they put in charge of the asylum
barks out commands on cue,
just to remind everyone that they own you.

skip

The desperation for dollars
are the shackles that keep me here.

I often welcome sleepwalking:
I think of Emerson
On repeat-
Skip-
I think I feel like his transparent eyeball
repeat-
His eyeball-
I begin to understand
I begin to feel like I'm one with everything
skip-
everyone is love
repeat
love
every-Everyone is me
and you
skip-skip
-the impending coma

In the few instances the machines malfunction
I curse being awakened.
At least as a zombie, I don't feel
my mind rotting
repeat

the rotting constellation of dirt,
chipped paint and cobwebs:
Ursa Somniculosa
No matter where I am on the floor,
I can see him hanging there in his hammock

on the weekends I love life.
I shed the identity the uniform has forced upon me
and my true self emerges--
repeat
my finite fuel

In the back of the factory
where I sell my free time
repeat
the desperation for dollars
I truly only live two days a week
repeat
my finite time
I'm dying the other five

skip-skip

I think of Ursa Somniculosa -
In the back of the factory
where I sell my free time
enjoying his perpetual vacation
maybe sipping on a nice tall beer
soaking up the sun -

NOT being a trapped monkey
like all of us down here
on repeat
Poem was assembled by J.M. Romig
Caitlin Roberts  Sep 2020
Repeat
Caitlin Roberts Sep 2020
Wake up ,
Go to school ,
Study ,
Repeat.

Heather has a party this weekend ,
"Did you get invited?"
-"What?"
"Oh nevermind"
Repeat.

Late nights
Thinking
Where did I go wrong?
Repeat.

Endless tears and
I don't cares,
But it hurts
Repeat.

The 'go to'
But never the
Broken
Repeat.

Carelessly ,
The last choice ,
That "friend"
Repeat.

Like a boy ?
He's to good for you,
Atleast
Repeat.

Good at a sport ?
I don't think so ,
Try again
Repeat.

Repeat.
Repeat.
Repeat.
REPEAT.
Slam poetry.
Dr Strange May 2015
Block block stab repeat
Block block stab repeat
Block block stab repeat
Block block stab repeat
Block block stab repeat
Block block stab repeat
Block block stab repeat
Block block stab repeat
Block block stab repeat
Block block stab repeat
Block block stab repeat
Block block stab repeat
Die
Perish
Cease to exist in this world anymore
Everyday it is the same
It is the same everyday
Blocking and stabbing
Perishing and dying
What's the difference
What's the point
To discover who you really are
Well I could of answered that without this civil war
You're a monster
A pleague that infest this once peaceful land
A mere insect destined to die like the rest
Screaming at the top of its lung
But to the rest of the world you are mute
You are nothing
Another soldier fighting for "the cause"
What cause,peace
Since when has peace come from violence
From violence only more violence come from it
That's just how the world works
It cannot look the other way just because you have ambition
The world is a cruel place
But it's only a cycle made up many smaller cycles
Therefore we are just pawns in something bigger than us
Something that we just can't comprehend quite yet
The only thing we can do right now is play our role
As we continue to hope to change the world
Nathan Tuy  Jul 2017
Cycle
Nathan Tuy Jul 2017
Repeat.
Just once more,you have to repeat.
Just once more and you can stop.
Repeat.
One more tic and it'll be gone.
Just one more and it'll be all.
Repeat.
You don't have to listen to anything but this.
Don't you follow any order but your own.
Repeat.
The sun doesn't matter
Nor does the rain.
All you have to do is repeat.
Repeat.
you don't need to sleep.
All that matters is that you repeat.
Repeat.
For you promise that this will be the last.
For you convince yourself that this will be the last.
Repeat.
For you never keep your promises well.
For you know you'll do it again.
Repeat.
All you have to do is repeat.
All you will do is repeat.
For son, you are a prisoner of your own body.
So,repeat.
Just repeat.
Whenever I hear that song I'll get a lump in my throat
The size of a grapefruit
It will be your voice I hear gliding through the melodies
In my mind's eye I won't try to hide
Your head tilting back with the high notes
Your own eyes closed, squinting, holding back
A look of pure ecstasy and passion deep as any
Union remembered or forgotten
You sing and you make the song your own
So it is your own and I would not take it from you
Even if I could
Even if I wanted to

The sound drowns and I won't turn it down
It fills the room to overflowing
I fall back into your favorite chair and watch
You skim the waves
I color the empty space blue to give you something to sink into
When you fall
Sinking as the noise subsides
Reaching for my lifeguard arms
With the first line of the second chorus
I pull you down and draw you near
Ease you into your favorite chair
You won't mind, we can share

I've got the song in "repeat" mode and it's played 6 times now
Every single spin my head begins to swim
Doesn't get old, just sinks in deeper
A knife, a nail, sharp enough but painless
It's just a needle for my weakest vein
Injects the feeling I had the very first time I heard it
The first time I saw you hold a microphone to your mouth
Saw you move to and fro to the beat of the music
Already lost, five minutes and nine seconds out of time and space
All of the world's existentialist quandaries forgotten and powerless
You took me with you
Or more like you let me follow, by the tail, hold on for dear life
Knowing that when we burst through the other side
The words and music would be branded into our brains

I could leave it on "repeat" all night long
It never gets old

Still, the next song on this playlist is awesome
You really should hear it

— The End —