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Re: Thank You to unknown
   tom, ****, harry, tam, dame,
   or dana from the MHS Class of 77,
   though this alum
experiences public education
   within lower providence jurisdiction

as a ***
er - minimally partaking advantage
   of extra-curricular,
   collegiate, inter-mural,
   et cetera opportunities,

   no not even a figurative crum
well nigh convey an impression of being dumb
bull door, deaf, and blind (with out faith no more),

   nor passing love notes from
some anonymous girl, who
   (after leaving a teasing message
   informed asper getting a smart haircut

   in ninth grade civics class
   taught by Missus Comly
   (do not quote me on my
   power fully pointed excel lent spelling,
   telling nothing, when out of desperation
   I experience primal yelling)
this singular potential fledgling flirtation,

   the extent from student,
   who appeared morose and rather glum
exposing such vulnerability to be hum
millie hated, and bullied relentlessly,

   whereat i wish to be a little boy
   comforted by me mum
since that option out of the question,
   thus aye didst never meet Miss Mot Toe
   (e plumbs e num), perhaps cuz eye **** numb

body, mind and spirit triage as if inebriated by ***
imagining the fighting spirit within me to thumb
or rather "flip the bird" to those,
   this then anxiety prone

   metaphorically rolling stone
whose metaphorical diet of worms also included
   eating picked over sun bleached
   un beak coming road **** crow - how yum

me does that seem, but gnome hatter
   how grossly said foul dish
   spurred via carrion (an analogy
   representing verbal taunting

   best left for hitch cocked birds) didst not appeal
not in the least did i give nasty brutes a "what for",
twas fear of getting creamed, fricasseed, irradiated...

   sans to stand proud and tall
   (all five and a half feet, but blunted maximum height
   topped off just shy of seventy inches -
   in reference to yours truly) against bullies

to this very day such emotional repercussions congeal
asper anxiety, obsessive compulsive disorder, panic...,
   which physiological symptoms served psyche not to feel
and only of late (particularly with daily intake of about
   a half doe zen pharmacological prescription medications

   do check and induce schizoid personality disorder
   (the diagnosis encompassing,
   the gamut mental health issues) to heel
akin to a well trained service dog, which fractured

   psychological state i.e. garrison to pitch and toss
   upon the precarious tipping point i.e.
   surpassing the tipping point,
   where thy body electric doth keel,

which precarious state finds me socially awkward,
   and off kilter, and maybe this chap
   ought to take a page
   from professional athletes playbook,
   and take a knee qua to kneel

hence this improvisational explanation
   why yours truly felt discombobulated
   to attend the recently held reunion,
   now aye wanna axe something serious, and fur real,

which essentially constitutes whether
   a current list of 1977 students,
   who received their high school diploma
   could be sent to me, whereby at least one alumni
   could buffer end this contemplative, intuitive,
   and pence eave bowl dish guttersnipe wannabe with zeal.

hie haint gonna hold ma breath,
   neither let loose lips help miss ink moll itty bitty sinker agog
   nor wait fir any religious chief such as allah
boot nothing ventured...blah...blah...blog...blog...

adieu - - matthew scott harris
Re: Thank You to unknown
   tom, ****, harry, tam, dame,
   or dana from the MHS Class of 77,
   though this alum
experiences public education
   within lower providence jurisdiction

as a ***
er - minimally partaking advantage
   of extra-curricular,
   collegiate, inter-mural,
   et cetera opportunities,

   no not even a figurative crum
well nigh convey an impression of being dumb
bull door, deaf, and blind (with out faith no more),

   nor passing love notes from
some anonymous girl, who
   (after leaving a teasing message
   informed asper getting a smart haircut

   in ninth grade civics class
   taught by Missus Comly
   (do not quote me on my
   power fully pointed excel lent spelling,
   telling nothing, when out of desperation
   I experience primal yelling)
this singular potential fledgling flirtation,

   the extent from student,
   who appeared morose and rather glum
exposing such vulnerability to be hum
millie hated, and bullied relentlessly,

   whereat i wish to be a little boy
   comforted by me mum
since that option out of the question,
   thus aye didst never meet Miss Mot Toe
   (e plumbs e num), perhaps cuz eye **** numb

body, mind and spirit triage as if inebriated by ***
imagining the fighting spirit within me to thumb
or rather "flip the bird" to those,
   this then anxiety prone

   metaphorically rolling stone
whose metaphorical diet of worms also included
   eating picked over sun bleached
   un beak coming road **** crow - how yum

me does that seem, but gnome hatter
   how grossly said foul dish
   spurred via carrion (an analogy
   representing verbal taunting

   best left for hitch cocked birds) didst not appeal
not in the least did i give nasty brutes a "what for",
twas fear of getting creamed, fricasseed, irradiated...

   sans to stand proud and tall
   (all five and a half feet, but blunted maximum height
   topped off just shy of seventy inches -
   in reference to yours truly) against bullies

to this very day such emotional repercussions congeal
asper anxiety, obsessive compulsive disorder, panic...,
   which physiological symptoms served psyche not to feel
and only of late (particularly with daily intake of about
   a half doe zen pharmacological prescription medications

   do check and induce schizoid personality disorder
   (the diagnosis encompassing,
   the gamut mental health issues) to heel
akin to a well trained service dog, which fractured

   psychological state i.e. garrison to pitch and toss
   upon the precarious tipping point i.e.
   surpassing the tipping point,
   where thy body electric doth keel,

which precarious state finds me socially awkward,
   and off kilter, and maybe this chap
   ought to take a page
   from professional athletes playbook,
   and take a knee qua to kneel

hence this improvisational explanation
   why yours truly felt discombobulated
   to attend the recently held reunion,
   now aye wanna axe something serious, and fur real,

which essentially constitutes whether
   a current list of 1977 students,
   who received their high school diploma
   could be sent to me, whereby at least one alumni
   could buffer end this contemplative, intuitive,
   and pence eave guttersnipe wannabe with zeal.

hie haint gonna hold ma breath,
   nor wait fir any religious chief such as allah
boot nothing ventured...blah...blah...blog...blog...

adieu - - matthew scott harris
REDACTED Nov 2017
You need a break from society,
So come and sit with me,
Make sure to enjoy your tea.

I've been hard at work fighting for your country,
So come and sit with me,
Make sure to enjoy your tea.

After 200 years of war,
You're finally free,
So make to enjoy your tea.

Whilst you was gone,
I've waited patiently,
Just to make you a cup of tea.

I love you,
So much I've waited nervously,
So enjoy MY cup of tea I made for you.

I'm so proud of you...

Love, [REDACTED] .
A poem about a soldier returning home to his Wife's first tea in 200 years.
G Rog Rogers Nov 2017
-Lyrix
Country Music Tune

After all the years
I called her Baby
Never could have dreamed
She would betray me

After all the years
She called me Darling
She was gone and left
without a warning

Leaving after She
spent Our life savings
Now my Baby's been
having her troubles lately

So still and on I go
to those places
We might have
together been
If she had then
stayed true
The way she was
when We began

I remember when
She was there
to save me
From the start
She was my
precious lady

I've been on
my own awhile
But I been learning
I'm still the same
but more determined

Still so and on I go
On the open road
alone again
If only she had
then stayed true
The way she was
when We began

After all the years
I Called her Baby
After all the years
She called me Darling

Never could have dreamed
She would betray me
Gone and left
without a warning.

-R.

(11.13.17)
-LA
-4MAR
©ASGP
Aleeza Nov 2017
abandoned flower fields and the lazy afternoon sun
our footsteps falling into a steady rhythm
we are almost like music in this place of lost
and neither of us seem to remember

my fingers touch the edges of your hand
trying to establish a connection that I have long craved
and normally it is not okay
but this time you let mine fit in the spaces between yours

we find a place of solace and dry grass
you are a mere inches away but I am still afraid
still afraid of what this is
still unsure of what it may be

we’re both a little tipsy, I must admit
you lie down on the ground and count the grooves in my spine
and I try to think of something to say
but  all my years of words have failed me now

is it okay?
are we really okay?
because it has been a while
and a lot of things have changed
but I still don’t know if we are right

all they have said is that this isn’t how it’s supposed to be
this isn’t how things line up in their world
but we have a world of our own
and I would give anything to be entangled in it

this is the only time we can really escape
from the stares that will judge who we are
from the expectations that we never plan to meet
this is the only time that I can belong to you.
Haruharu Nov 2017
The burning feeling in my stomach calms me.

I don't even mind.

You have been my friend for years.

Feeling myself starving makes me feel alive.

The crawling under my skin. Too familliar.

I'm in control of my destiny, or am I?

My body is disappering and I don't care.

Do I live or die? It's up to me.

My old friend. I haven't seen you in awhile.

All the years we've spent together, makes me feel close to you once again.

Do we go down together this time?

I don't care as long as you're with me.

You're the only one who never leaves.

With you by my side I'd do anything.

Even destroying myself in the process.
Skylar Keith Nov 2017
Colours fade into one
Creating swirls of dreams above
I look up and hold your hand

I want to hold it forever
We'll part but I can still hold it in my dreams
I dream of seeing you again

Many years have passed
I can still feel your hand when I look up
Smiling at the dreams I have
Wishing you could be there to see them

Yet I know you can't
You're above the colours
The dream I'll reach when it all ends

Until then
I'll be down here
Dreaming of holding your hand
Winter is coming soon and I am reminding of my friend from back then
I never stopped missing him or loving him
But with time, acceptance has come and I can love again
I was too young to see it as young but nevertheless I did
Thank you for the memories
Larry Dixon Nov 2017
Three years ago I met an angel, an entity who showed me infinity.
I was blessed by her touch, her love, and her voice.
I felt the affinity of her divinity.
I fell in love because I had no other choice.

That angel picked me, despite my unworthiness.
Loved me despite my mortality.
The memories of us are timeless.
Locked in a vault of Immateriality.

I stand before you now as a fragment of a memory.
A piece of the man tried so hard to be, a remnant of time.
Now our love is history, a mystery to people who will see our story for the next century.
I made a mistake that will last a lifetime.

Her grace will not bless my resting place.
Because our paths no longer interlace.
victoria Oct 2017
Discovering Dauphne

Reading Du Maurier as my mother once before me

I feel cheated that in my midlife
This now my first discovery
I weep at the complex beauty within the first page
I read and re-read and re-read and again
I want these letters that form these words to penetrate and reside within my soul

I feel saddened for my lack of knowledge
For my laziness and lack of wanting to escape through words in my previous years

I feel anger for the years of substance use to take me out of myself
Why has Daphne been kept hidden I ask?
She understands me!
If there is she, then more alike there must be.

I leave regret, usually, for those who don't understand it's teachings
With Du Maurier I experience a new and crippling regret
I feel betrayed by anyone who has lived within her words, her worlds and yet kept her hidden from my unquenchable thirst

At least time seems to be slowing down in my 'almost there' sobriety
More hours appear each day
to be filled between the sheets of each turning page.

Hello new world
Having just been diagnosed with dyslexia age 40... I'm only just discovering the world of words. I've been writing for less than a year and I'm excited to grow
Viseract Oct 2017
Another brand new day, a chance to start again
But if i did so then I'd have to discard all this pain
And as much as it pains me to hold it like so,
Without this experience I'd have nada to show

No stories to tell, no stories to share
No stories from drunken lips spilled without a care
You want to know the truth of it, the world is often cold
And those among us oftentimes succumb to icy holds

I've done so too, dragging my feet
Every day was an encore, every hour on repeat
So the days came, and so too they left
Nothing but a hollow sorrow leaking through my chest

Porcelain became my actions, stone become my face
A facade for my every move, a wolf with naught to chase
The darkness in the skies became the darkness in my eyes
As the darkness in the night became the darkness held inside

Shadows grew longer, so too did my inaction
An enzyme gone cold, with minimal reaction
This lethargy that enveloped every thought that crossed my mind
I crossed off all the pain and laughed, urged the struggles to hide

So struggle i did, so exhausted i grew
A plant of my previous self, all i did was grow roots
Stuck into the Earth with no intention to leave
I found myself worthless, this became my belief

And when i crossed out all my mistakes
These actions shown through carelessness made
An S.O.S called for, a flare launched in the sky
Shining ever brighter than the stars that lit the night

Uprooted and carried, burden i felt
Looking at my limbs satisfied with damage dealt
But hungrily lust for more, so more and more i drew
My laughter marked upon my arms in delirium renewed

Every step and every breath has pushed me off the edge
Until i fell and climbed back up, learned to walk again
My funambulism established, my lifetime the ropes
That once upon a time wound its way around to choke

With every moment left behind, my resolve grows evermore
Mentally i mark myself rather than count a bladed score
And when I've had enough, I'll not give up no more
I have a divine partner whom i love to my very core

And so I'll drag myself upright, so that i die with dignity
And make every day feel like a brand new beginning
Forgive my troubled actions, wish away my pain
Wash away these scars, and let us start again
Beth... such a drag has the past three years been, but with you i have found myself, and a reason to go on... i hope you read this and smile that beautiful smile of yours, radiant as ever.. xoxo
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