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Jay M Jun 3
Turning in this day
Turning over in dismay
For here, as I lay,
Comforted in these sheets
A chill turns to a burning blaze
My mind trapped in a dizzying haze

Aching muscle and raspy tone
Weakness cripples every bone
Shallow comes each breath
That escapes my parched lips
To countless others it foretold death
Filmed in countless clips

But, not for I
Not in this day, not this time
Not in this peculiar rhyme
For here I shall not die

To recover
To grow stronger
Prepare for what may come
The war is not yet over
With hope, it won't be much longer
For this great disease we shall overcome.

- Jay M
June 3rd, 2021
I'm fully vaccinated now, but have been experiencing the side effects of the vaccine since last night. I'll be okay by the end of the day, and back to my healthy self.
neth jones May 8
sense heavy
  i plough at the day slurred
  pushing putty steps
aching and unfocused
  going about chores
  tackling things
...have i been delivered head trauma?

unbearable attention is drawn by my visible condition
pain inducing communications are fired at me
inquiry that i bat at and parry pathetic

Can I lumber onward
nauseated i
and be
in anyway productive ?
muscular suffering
this astronaut
this deep sea explorer
receiving a poor mix of gases

neth jones Mar 22
I discharge ;
   a laugh without kindle
(not from the origin of tune
         and mastication)  
from an orifice of wound

a hack of mushroomy dry fleck :
the taste touches the back of the airways
  and takes to the brain in an ail

    ideas slurry
my actions blur
I fumble about my living space
my balance
        pained ears
fall to floor
      an ug at the back my throat
I laugh from all fours
    vision reddens
unhinged at the jaw
      my neck
shoulder muscles punting
my logged and leaden head lolling
   a laugh of hurt
a ******* of saliva
        detonates on the carpet
is there blood in that  ?
sickness on the verge
                 of being brutally provided

"So dramatic !"
my wife passes me a glass of fruit juice
                             and an aspirin
         preventing the transformation
                a gentle chiding
original version ....

[a laugh without kindle
from a wound not an orifice
a mastication of ills and soothes
a not quite mushroom smell
pained ears
an ug at the back of the throat]
Brumous Feb 5
Another day passes by,
With me not knowing why.

A grin is plastered on my face,
Like a maniac running from something he hates;
yet I still enjoy the feeling of the chase.

The tension made it an ill-looking smile;
then the idea was washed over me.
I feel this way because...

I was useless.

I was useless yet did nothing to solve this problem.
I'll idly do something as I remember all the things that should've been done,

It haunts me

every second,


and hour.

I was a menace,
A menace to myself and everyone;
Felt like an actor reading a script.

But then again, someone said that life and all is like a play
And the world is a stage.

It makes everything feel surreal,
Like a living dream.
"Sometimes people are clouds,
they pass by without saying goodbye"
i guess that's just what you're cursed with when both your parents leave you behind
when you're real young
***** with your head trying to build relationships when you're out on your own later
and your parents want you to apologize because you had bad behaviors
as a teenager, and you **** up your life a few times as a young adult
and end up needing their help to not be homeless
or not **** yourself

because now i can't have a healthy love
my brain will ruin all the connections
because i want to leave first
i don't want to be left
so now i don't get to have you
not now that it's gotten serious

and you say you thought our love was
"deeper than that"
and the ****** up part is that it is deeper
it's so ******* deep for me that i cry and ache every night
even if you're holding me
even if before you fall asleep
you sleepily mumble "i love you"

because my head is sick
my head won't let me have you
even though i want you more than anything
my heart is screaming for you
my heart is screaming that i want someone to love me
the same way i love them

but my love is toxic and restless
i can't ever believe this is real
and that you're actually here with me
love just feels like pain and rejection

how ****** up is that?

there's only so many times i can
try to explain
and be misunderstood
before you start hating me
before anyone could
and i know that because i hate me
i always have
thanks mom and dad

and we drove to work together
and we listened to 'THE END"
by the Doors
and now that morning haunts me
because who could have known
(i knew)
that you are tiring of me
and my insecurity
is destroying everything around me

you are so good for me
i don't want to lose you
i don't want to love you
i don't want to hate you

i don't want to lose you ......

i don't want to be me anymore
because it's too painful knowing
that i'm not right for you
and only knowing that because
i love you and
i want what's best for you
and it's not me
and it's not "us"

but man i wish it was.
rejection dysphoria blues.
i love you so much paul.
i want to die or be someone else
rgz Jan 10
A man tired from the waking day
hangs his keys on the beaded hook,
lets the hat off his grateful head.
He places himself in front of the table
where he laid down his papers,
his skins and his skin.
He put on the table, the day's characters,
mulled them over in the electronic hum of Aleph and coffee flavoured eyes,
rolled them up tight with tomorrow's fears
and set them alight.
He put there a glass ashtray to catch the embers of regret.
He put on the table his dear friend, Old Man Wibble,
the bedlamite seer,
drunken oracle,
"liquid Jesus, straight from the bottle"
and longed for a glass to raise.
He put there the smoke from his exasperated lungs
and the wistful music of his tired throat,
he put there every last syllable and every letter left lingering on a lost lovers lips.
He put hope on the table,
for the weight might crush him as he sat
but not the table,
solid under this load,
to bear weight is what a table must do
and tomorrow will always bring another pile.

an exercise in growing a poem
sick and crumbling from sweated sheets onto the ground
i don't want to be found like this, don't want to be seen
cause my body's giving up, my weakness, it's so lame
keeling over in pain and illness, i say

"go away"
but i don't want you to go away
i'm afraid to die alone... hey
mark soltero Sep 2020
i don’t want to lie
even if im embarrassed
im beginning to see the truth
it resides in your eyes

the reflection of myself
it’s beginning to lose power over me
i can’t tell you why exactly

the power you’ve given me
it seems to have rusted your soul
oh what id give
to go back and change that

my soul is drowning
grasping on to what it can to float
freezing slowly as it inches closer to the edge
to shield me from the wrongs within myself

your warmth protects me
it exposes the purity from inside
but how i wish i could protect you too
mark soltero Sep 2020
the touch of the midnight hour
gifts me your soul
you make me feel real
all to question what is
this seems undiscovered
the thoughts of the unequivocal reality
how can it be
am I worthy
of you for you to be
present entropy
breath out our lungs
our bodies pour
bloods bursting throughout
the world sleeps
while we barter affection with each other
spent just below the ether
will thy beloved end me
if you don’t need me
Dominique Sep 2020
unwashed shrimp; sick pink wishes
putrid puking and hot weather flashes
headaches and nausea for forgetting me
raw plates of karmic misery, i drank too much

I'll weather it with you through the phone
congealed seafood skies when i was alone
bred the bacteria that made you so ill
petri dish summer, i never wanted
to **** you, i drank too much

forty degrees like a tenerife beach
maybe from now you'll remain within reach
below the surface marine life bubbles
the fish of my thoughts will swim out of trouble
from now on
maybe I won't drink too much
don't wish death on friends, no matter how much they ignore you
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