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Jenie Oct 7
I'm telling you that's it, I quit!
A year on now I weigh a ton,
drinking my way out of this pit.

Hotel meals with a book I sit,
a woman on her own must be fun...
I'm telling you that's it, I quit.

Day after day sleeping a whit,
puff in the lungs and pulse on the run,
drinking my way out of this pit.

Monday drive bawl or afternoon fit,
abusing I yell before the sun,
I'm telling you that's it, I quit.

A ring and a promise, we almost split,
I never home or seeking to stun,
drinking my way out of this pit.

I will admit I learned a bit.
Of colleagues and business I knew none.
I'm telling you that's it, I quit
drinking my way out of this pit.
My first job, almost 15 years ago, spending the weeks in hotel rooms, flirted on I learned to bring a book. Unable to sleep, stressed out, crying in the car, eating too much, drinking, smoking, I started having panic attacks and quit after a year.
Once he met a *******
She seemed happy
and little pride on her face.
He asked her
"Why did you choose this? "
She replied with a mocking smile on corner of her face.

"Because I'm good at it............................."
Do what  make you happy ................it can be anything
Someone send me fifty cigarettes.
Keep me awake far past sunset.
Get the football on immediately
And make it a fiery affair.
Drown out this mop and bucket mouth.
Find me a guitar string to silence a theatre.
Strum all the chords in unison.
Whisper powerfully into the crowd's ear
About the journey to solar eclipse bliss.
Ignore the scattered failures,
Stamps on lamp-posts,
Brash stickers of the past,
Cornered in all that success.
Distraction from the looming task ahead.
Let the teaming rain return to my brain,
Where pie survives in cement,
Jackdaws squawk and talk of walks
Across the kissing couple hills
Instead of pizza orders set for ten.
Counting stock with matching socks.
Clocks are the enemy these days.
But they may be my best friend.
Poem #20 from my collection 'A Shropshire Grad'. Written before a shift at work and inspired by Tom Hiddleston's poetry reading, I was fortunate to have this one read out on local radio.
TazDaManiac Sep 16
The Attention that you seek...

Is the same Attention you are running from...

The fountain that you neglect...

Is the very fountain from which passion pours from

The path you pass on

Is the same path that possesses your destiny

We are all wandering on a quest for "It"

Do not be so quick to turn

"It" is in front of you
ibkreator Sep 19
and that's perfectly accurate
as its not yours

and your only job is to get you
Poetic T Sep 16
A squirrel offered me
              a *******.

But just fondled my
            Nuts the whole time ..
Chatterbox, face-to-face
Nine o'clock, brace the pace
Sign the docs, stop the chase
I quit! You're a disgrace.

Allegation: "double agent?"
Your brain is too ancient
Keep testing my patience
I'm done! from your insulting statement.

Nothing you say, can rearrange my perception
I ain't got time, for your desperate deception
Suffered enough, running out of option
Uncaged! Claiming liberation.
130920 | 18:00 PM, I'm so grateful,  in the midst of second wave pandemic situation, God found me a new job. A few days before, I was so frustrated because someone threw a stupid allegation, pressed my button. After all these time, after everything that I did, he still spit out that allegation to my face. I'm so much better than that, thank you for treating me like ****, I've had enough. Buh bye.
Today at the end of my shift I wanted to cut myself with a box cutter but the box cutter turned to be dull. Fortunately or unfortunately? I don't know...
G Aug 28
Help! Someone hand me a knife. Help me cut away the binds holding me hostage by parody and strife.

I'm bound, leather cuts against my skin, the pages filled with word counts wreck my mind from within.

You see what started as a hobby ballooned into a full time obligation, with deadlines, dollar signs,  and a **** ton of manipulation.

I'm restless but full of rest, like Gatsby within and without, I'm bored of doing the same thing all day but never gaining any clout.

There's a system in my mind that tries to comprehend this restless feeling I feel will never end.

So I'm resounded to spewing my words online, the only place that welcomes the madness of my mind.

If you happen upon this jumbled mess, please send me a message and beg me to get some rest.

Until then, I'll be your green light on the dock, your key fitting every lock, your master of words and prose, your knight in shining armor fending off your foes.

I'll be here.

Living vicariously through you, hoping one day again, I'll find myself too.
-Having a job doesn't make you a sellout
Nat Lipstadt Jul 31
we write now past anger,
but nearer to the closing



the period of our lives, here,
at the end of this poem

and with every day,
every word, every look,

i·so·la·tion
is now redefined as:

des·o·la·tion

(a state of complete emptiness or destruction barrenness bleakness starkness misery melancholy gloom bareness dismalness grimness aridity sterility wildness anguished misery loneliness despondency despair distress)

now, it too is redefined as:

we can no longer look at our children faces...
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