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ogdiddynash Feb 17
no, not a political divide crossed.

no, not switching fandom to the
hated other crosstown team,
with the clownish bobble head
thing.

once a meat eater, a meat eater
for life.

stolidly, boringly straight, waaay
too late
to switch that side.

the switch referred to herein is more
profound, straining boundaries of a
decades long term relationship.

I desire  to switch sides of the bed we
sleep on, after decades of habit, that
transferred with us when we traveled,
moved etc. To each Our Side was the
Natural Order of Things, a higher law,
immutable, constitutional and ranked
higher than the Ten Commandments.

over time, my side sank beneath the
excess weight of growing old with
bad lifestyle habits…a bad back, an
aging frame, core muscles that seem
to have been decored, made a new
firmer bed a necessity,

when we called 1-800-Mattress, we two
social security retirees, were shocked,
shocked! at the hole in our budgets
such an expenditure required.  We would
be forced to survive on bread (brioche)
and water (Pelligrino) for weeks, our only
condimentable affordable would be margarine,
a pseudo butter made in chemical factories.

so, she refused.

I sank into deep despair, for who could deny
her finger pointing “J’accuse” where responsibility
for this truly lay (lie?).

marriage counselors demanded exorbitant premium
prepayments, Medicare said ha ha, and United Health
Care was united in their ***** opposable *******
but eloquent “Mais Non!”

As I write this, Climate Comservationists have confirmed
my sinking side is now receding at a rate of 4 cm/year.
The implicit implication was at the Great Melt Flood of 2050
that was coming to sink us, I would not be quietly floating down
the Hudson River out to a South Pacific isle, but would join Jason Bourne in the green crystal clear waters of the nearby East River, but unlike Jason, I can’t hold my breath for twenty minutes, ergo and ipso facto, I am doom-ed.

So I have started a GoFundMe to obtain a new airy mattress  capable of variable soft/hard differential setting on each side, with an inflatable air pumping gizmo just for the end of days.

Thanking you in advance and be assured lol your contributions will remain not anonymous.

Yours, Extra, Sincerely,

Ogdiddynash (Ogdiddynatsch)
the reason why my name has a variant spelling is because some in our family Americanized our Germanic uprooted spelling when
we came ove on the Titanic
John McCafferty May 2021
The drops are so much deeper,
and the highs aren't high at all.
Ongoing expectant measures listed,
of these persistent calls to pressure.
To fill a frame that's drained,
when switching off is no longer an option.
Are these real problems or signs of age?

Before was easier, yesterday simpler,
but would the early days help to mould,
when you've already grown from there.
Late observations of missed play,
a rug pull calls out the fool to vacate.
As we're a little bitter in vain,
there's no sweetness today.
(@PoeticTetra - instagram/twitter)
Kat Raven Dec 2018
I walk along the tight rope in shame.
Whispering to myself "hold your **** together''
Halfway through, almost reaching the end, the pain surges, electrocuting through my whole body, static.
I fall
Not knowing how I'm going to land.
She jumps out from inside of me as I hit the sandy ground.
Head jolts, slow motion review.
Hurting, the pain I deserve, for knowing, knowing too much. the power consumes.
It rushes like a harsh wind, like a storm that cannot be unveiled.
Yielding inside of me, she bursts, and explodes like a thunder exhibition.
Laying next to me, only I can see her.
Her dark eyes staring into mine, I try to look past the horror.
"Don't leave me" a careless whisper.
She vanishes into thin air, I lose myself in despair.
I stare up at the high ceiling, waiting for the other ones to give me life and healing.
One unleashes, but one of fury and anger, Sukubus, the fighter.
She gets up in an aggressive explosive motion and attacks everyone around her viciously.
Here I am again, switching.
Switching, needing those people inside of me to keep me alive.
Like a spirit, without them I am dead.
Creation of the mind fighting against reality trying to show, but hiding in promiscuity.
I'm a good liar, choosing to be honest.
The will I have has weakened to the inner pits of my core, and without these personas, I am nothing but a rotting corpse.
So, I ask for those around me to stop judging me please.
I am only trying, trying for so long, that doing has me acting out too **** impulsively.
Forgive me, I was born to sin, but to love so passionately, a loyal mind of pure integrity.
I wish not to be so alone in melancholy, but defeated, so I stand alone, trying to survive the unknown.
I open my eyes, looking around me, seeing everyone dead, blood scattered and bodies twisted.
I get up, and start again, unleashing another personality.
My personality deformations
Stanley Wilkin Mar 2016
I know you haven’t heard from me
For a millennium, but here I am
Still around, still observing, still involved.
I am ancient of course but no older than before
When you knew me as a warrior-striding
Over flaming mountains and trembling seas.
Do you remember?
Do you remember how I inspired you from
The clouds? My voice like thunder,
My voice carrying lightening from a darkening
Sky? ……………………Well, anyway, good to see
You all once again.
I actually haven’t been myself recently.
My legs have troubled me. My eyes
Have been plaguing me. I cannot see the earth
Clearly anymore.  In my wizened vision
It resembles a roughly-used marble,
I am after all, now and forever, the ancient of days.

Here’s the thing. I’m getting bored both of
Your antics and your obsession
With me. Please, lighten up! I made the
Sun so you would smile, children to give you hope!
But, it didn’t work I fear.

I can abide your petty squabbles.
Truly I can. I can abide your desperate need
For war. It’s quite exciting really and once I played
My part. The agonised features of the dying
Appeal to my nasty side to be honest.
I have a very nasty side as you are well aware.
I like your skyscrapers, your irritating as flies planes,
Your huge cities, your good as well as your promiscuous
Women, your strange observances
Songs and poetry. It is all very jolly.  But,
And it’s a huge ‘but’ I must admit,
I have grown bored.
You no longer inspire me. I am no longer
Eager to view your funny ways
When I wake, and before I sleep. I’ve decided
Your little planet must go. Sorry, I’m like that.
I follow my whims. Tomorrow, at 10 I turn off the light
So, please, stop praying. It’s so depressing.
There will be no reprieve this time. Accept your fate!
You will not feel a thing!  So, let’s make our final goodbyes.
I have really enjoyed your company-
Au Revoir. Oh, please stop crying-
It was great fun after all for all of us. Remember,
Nothing lasts forever. Not even me!
A Alexander Oct 2015
Seconds and Minutes,
it's all such a blur,
That is until I am able to return,
back to where I live, in my mind,
leaving me with nothing but pieces to put together.
A small recollection of the others taking over,
because I cannot deal with life on my own.  

That is until, I met this man;
He tries, he really does, to help me.
Where were you before this world was so cruel to me?
Are you here to set me free?
I declare that I am far too broken, and I don't want to drag him down with  the horror, the evil, the tales that haunt me.
There is so much pain, and tragedy,
Surely he is able to see that in the story lines of my face.

Yet his soul is not feeble, but strong enough for the both of us,
as I see in each encounter.

Strong enough to help me escape.

©A. Harris 2015
This poem is based on a book a read a while back, called Switching Time, based on  a woman with 17 personalities.
Poema Code Switching
By Aylin Soto-Aleman, Mercedes Caballero, Jesus Martinez, Marta Silva, Alex Alejandre
16.4.15

El final de una etapa
The end,
The beginning of a new journey
un camino
A un mundo extranjero
Un deseo, un sueño
A dream
Haciendo mi propio path
un camino
rostros nuevos , new failures
historias nuevas , new experiences
a sequel to my story, con hojas rotas
y mojadas    


INMIGRACION

La memoria es un salto
entre continentes
crossing invisible borders
swimming in the rios
corriendo debajo del sol

La memoria es los abuelitos
ancestors cooking arroz y frijoles,
flan, driving through for hamburgers,
popcorn, sipping on horchata
Basilica
No todo lo que brilla es oro
not all rainbows and butterflies,
Clarita y sus cien años
Ruben y sus Tacos del Camino Real
El rancho
Midnight movies
Quiero a quien me quiera
It’s been a long day, without you my friend
Mexicanos al grito de guerra
Oh, say can you see by the dawn’s early light
Tepechitlan, Jerecuaro, Guanajuato
Long Beach, Argentine, KCK,
Chihuahua,
A Distance Between Us
El puente, the bridge.
Three Little Pigs en casa, at home,
don't step out marranitos,
la llorona te va a llevar

Memory is a leap
between continents
Cruzando fronteras invisibles,
Nadando en los rivers
Running under the sun

Born in different places
Pero las mismas intenciones
This was created by my spanish class and I.

— The End —