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#365
at my semi-annual check down, (to wait a year in between, is to invite invasive festering cicadas) and he inquires, how goes the writing? sighing, replying, “oh doc, trying real hard to limit myself to a poem, on a one-a day-regimen, but it just ain’t happening” sighing, replying, de doc he say; “I feel you, how I wish I could see but one patient a day; investigate their every pore, scan the body fulsome, even tween their toes, their follicles and nose, and feel and sleep assuredly, I’ve done my best for them!” and spontaneous we reply to each other: “but it just can’t be done!” he rights me twice a year, I, thank him daily, even, enscripting a write just for him, de minimus! no fewer than twice a day ~~~ 7:30am Tuesday 3-10-26
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Mar 10
Mar 10, 2026 at 7:29 AM UTC
wit & wisdom: the doctor and I agree (2 X 365)
why are there only 365 days in a year? who imposed this limitation? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ to love someone anew aknew? she teases, that pleases, knowing my predilection, every day, a new lover, every day a new thank you note, for someone here who wounds me with delight, striking me down with affection, their inner insight, eliciting illiciting, a smile of global proportional distance! this infection of affection, this disease of the human heart, each day, is reserved, preserved, in a poem, this is: “I did it my way,” my natty scriptures, and she unvokes invokes a stun~gun of a question!? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ why are there only 365 days in a year? मेलन के लिए एक और melan ke lie ek aur
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Mar 7
Mar 7, 2026 at 11:20 AM UTC
One More for Melan melan ke lie ek aur
__February 2024 (Lunar New Year)__ Red envelopes, a digital glow. Her apartment, a small diaspora. Dragon dances on a screen, fireworks muted by time zones. He sends a photo, plum blossoms, a scroll with a calligraphic wish. "_Xīnnián kuàilè_" she types, fingers flying, a pang of home, a new year’s echo. __March (International Women's Day)__ She speaks of her grandmother, bound feet, unbound spirit. He listens, a quiet respect, a history he seeks to understand. Emails filled with stories, feminine strength, ancient wisdom. He sends her a poem, _Li Qingzhao_, translated with care, a delicate offering. __April (Qingming Festival/Easter)__ Ancestral graves, a digital visit. He lights incense, virtual smoke, a gesture of shared remembrance. Easter eggs, pastel and bright, a Western symbol, a gentle contrast. They discuss life, death, rebirth, the cycles of nature, the soul’s journey. __May (Mother's Day)__ He sends a package, silk scarves, a teacup painted with peonies. She calls her mother, a long conversation, then calls him, a voice soft with gratitude. He speaks of his own mother, her simple kindness, her enduring love. They find common ground, mothers remembered, a bridge built of shared sentiment. __June (Dragon Boat Festival/Father's Day)__ _Zongzi_, sticky rice, sweet dates, she makes them from a recipe, a taste of childhood, a memory shared. He sends a photo, a dragon boat race, a vibrant spectacle, a shared experience. Father's Day, a quiet reflection, his own father, a man of few words, but deep, enduring actions. __July (Mid-Year/Independence Day)__ Summer heat, a digital escape. He sends photos of his garden, lush greenery, a peaceful haven. She sends photos of her city, concrete canyons, vibrant energy. Fireworks across the divide, a shared moment of light, a distant celebration. __August (Qixi Festival)__ The Weaver Girl and the Cowherd, a celestial love story, told and retold. He sends a handmade card, a constellation drawn in silver ink. She writes a short story, their own tale, a modern myth. Longing, distance, a love that persists, a thread connecting two distant stars. __September (Mid-Autumn Festival)__ Mooncakes, round and golden, shared through a screen, a virtual feast. He sends a recording, a moonlit poem, a melody of ancient words. She sends a painting, a rabbit on the moon, a whimsical image, a shared smile. The moon, a silent witness, a shared sphere, a common sky. __October (Double Ninth Festival/Halloween)__ Chrysanthemums, symbols of longevity, he sends a dried bouquet, a lasting gift. She sends a photo, her costume, a playful spirit, a moment of lightness. Halloween, a night of masks and stories, a shared fascination with the unseen. They discuss aging, wisdom, the passage of time, a conversation deep and meaningful. __November (Thanksgiving)__ He cooks a traditional meal, a table set for two, a place for her in spirit. She makes _Shànghǎi làjiàng miàn_, a fusion feast, a celebration of her heritage. They express gratitude, for each other, for the unexpected connection, for the love that blooms. A shared warmth, a quiet contentment, a thankfulness that transcends distance. __December (Winter Solstice/Christmas)__ Dumplings, a winter tradition, she makes them with friends, a shared warmth. He lights candles, a quiet ritual, a celebration of light in the darkness. Christmas carols, a familiar melody, a shared appreciation for the season. He sends a small, carved wooden box, an intricate design, a symbol of hope. __January 2025 (New Year's Day)__ A new year, a fresh start, a promise of change, a hope for reunion. They make plans, tentative and exciting, a journey across oceans, a meeting of hearts. He sends a poem, a promise of spring, a vision of shared days, a future unfolding. __February 2025 (Lunar New Year)__ Another dragon dances, brighter this time. She plans a trip, tickets purchased, a promise of presence, a physical connection. He prepares his home, a space for her, a welcoming embrace, a shared future. Hope, respect, love, a foundation, a new year, a new beginning, together. __March 2025 (International Women's Day)__ They walk, hand in hand, through a garden bursting with spring. Stories shared, faces seen, the distance collapsed, the journey begun. A new year, a new chapter, love, finally, tangible and real. __Future 2025__ He proposes on the ninth day of the ninth lunar month, a double nine, symbolizing longevity and eternity.  Nine days of introductions to family and friends, a whirlwind of new faces and shared meals, laughter bridging cultures. Nine months of courtship, exploring their adopted city together, discovering hidden corners and shared passions.  A wedding, a blend of East and West, traditions intertwined, vows spoken in two languages.  Nine days of honeymoon, a secluded beach, the ocean a constant rhythm, their love a new melody, echoing into a future filled with promise.
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Feb 19, 2025
Feb 19, 2025 at 8:32 AM UTC
Convergence of Rivers (2025)
__February 2024 (Lunar New Year)__ Red envelopes, a digital glow. Her apartment, a small diaspora. Dragon dances on a screen, fireworks muted by time zones. He sends a photo, plum blossoms, a scroll with a calligraphic wish. "_Xīnnián kuàilè_" she types, fingers flying, a pang of home, a new year’s echo. __March (International Women's Day)__ She speaks of her grandmother, bound feet, unbound spirit. He listens, a quiet respect, a history he seeks to understand. Emails filled with stories, feminine strength, ancient wisdom. He sends her a poem, _Li Qingzhao_, translated with care, a delicate offering. __April (Qingming Festival/Easter)__ Ancestral graves, a digital visit. He lights incense, virtual smoke, a gesture of shared remembrance. Easter eggs, pastel and bright, a Western symbol, a gentle contrast. They discuss life, death, rebirth, the cycles of nature, the soul’s journey. __May (Mother's Day)__ He sends a package, silk scarves, a teacup painted with peonies. She calls her mother, a long conversation, then calls him, a voice soft with gratitude. He speaks of his own mother, her simple kindness, her enduring love. They find common ground, mothers remembered, a bridge built of shared sentiment. __June (Dragon Boat Festival/Father's Day)__ _Zongzi_, sticky rice, sweet dates, she makes them from a recipe, a taste of childhood, a memory shared. He sends a photo, a dragon boat race, a vibrant spectacle, a shared experience. Father's Day, a quiet reflection, his own father, a man of few words, but deep, enduring actions. __July (Mid-Year/Independence Day)__ Summer heat, a digital escape. He sends photos of his garden, lush greenery, a peaceful haven. She sends photos of her city, concrete canyons, vibrant energy. Fireworks across the divide, a shared moment of light, a distant celebration. __August (Qixi Festival)__ The Weaver Girl and the Cowherd, a celestial love story, told and retold. He sends a handmade card, a constellation drawn in silver ink. She writes a short story, their own tale, a modern myth. Longing, distance, a love that persists, a thread connecting two distant stars. __September (Mid-Autumn Festival)__ Mooncakes, round and golden, shared through a screen, a virtual feast. He sends a recording, a moonlit poem, a melody of ancient words. She sends a painting, a rabbit on the moon, a whimsical image, a shared smile. The moon, a silent witness, a shared sphere, a common sky. __October (Double Ninth Festival/Halloween)__ Chrysanthemums, symbols of longevity, he sends a dried bouquet, a lasting gift. She sends a photo, her costume, a playful spirit, a moment of lightness. Halloween, a night of masks and stories, a shared fascination with the unseen. They discuss aging, wisdom, the passage of time, a conversation deep and meaningful. __November (Thanksgiving)__ He cooks a traditional meal, a table set for two, a place for her in spirit. She makes _Shànghǎi làjiàng miàn_, a fusion feast, a celebration of her heritage. They express gratitude, for each other, for the unexpected connection, for the love that blooms. A shared warmth, a quiet contentment, a thankfulness that transcends distance. __December (Winter Solstice/Christmas)__ Dumplings, a winter tradition, she makes them with friends, a shared warmth. He lights candles, a quiet ritual, a celebration of light in the darkness. Christmas carols, a familiar melody, a shared appreciation for the season. He sends a small, carved wooden box, an intricate design, a symbol of hope. __January 2025 (New Year's Day)__ A new year, a fresh start, a promise of change, a hope for reunion. They make plans, tentative and exciting, a journey across oceans, a meeting of hearts. He sends a poem, a promise of spring, a vision of shared days, a future unfolding. __February 2025 (Lunar New Year)__ Another dragon dances, brighter this time. She plans a trip, tickets purchased, a promise of presence, a physical connection. He prepares his home, a space for her, a welcoming embrace, a shared future. Hope, respect, love, a foundation, a new year, a new beginning, together. __March 2025 (International Women's Day)__ They walk, hand in hand, through a garden bursting with spring. Stories shared, faces seen, the distance collapsed, the journey begun. A new year, a new chapter, love, finally, tangible and real. __Future 2025__ He proposes on the ninth day of the ninth lunar month, a double nine, symbolizing longevity and eternity.  Nine days of introductions to family and friends, a whirlwind of new faces and shared meals, laughter bridging cultures. Nine months of courtship, exploring their adopted city together, discovering hidden corners and shared passions.  A wedding, a blend of East and West, traditions intertwined, vows spoken in two languages.  Nine days of honeymoon, a secluded beach, the ocean a constant rhythm, their love a new melody, echoing into a future filled with promise.
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Zackamundo Rattah Tattah Battah Bag had Baghdad Diss? Quick Lynch... 1 Trillion Ton 50 Million Trillion Cash Nuclear Tip Missile Tank so Big Run-over ya crib Take the guns? NAH! GIVE US GUNS YAHH!! corners sweepers Government watching Clock mocking Hoes in line one a time.. Drop Em... Cooper, Rupert, Doobie, Super, durp, Dean, Lean, Quavo, D, T, L, Wayne, Trigg, G Floyd, Stem, B.A., Cam, B, G, C, Mii, Cashish, Rah, Rob, Raheem, Jake, Rasheem, Black, Unc, Baby, Gettah, Guttah, Z, Pete, Reese, Raymond, Reggie, Will... Ounce pound brick Brick house pound Cars ounce trash Death Dismay Hope, Prayer Love an Trust Faith in God **** 1 God Wrote a script Paint a picture A picture of... Fortune, Fame, wealth and royalties Pure loyalty King Torture Rip off your nails... Rip off your ears... Rip out your teeth an tongue... Cut off fingers toes 1by1... Stomp your leg and arm bones, Stab your **** Pour bleach on you with gas... Choke you in an out of consciousness Repeat... You're future is tortured, Mark My Words, Don't Quote me ***
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Oct 25, 2021
Oct 25, 2021 at 11:12 PM UTC
Trash and Trades Cash and Paid by: Z-Pac
There's 365 days out of the year and we multiply, Multiply 365 by your age and you'll know how many days you've lived, you've survived, the time we spent through good and bad times...as all our memories begin to surface our minds. 365 days makes 8,030 days I've walked this earth, Don't waste your time, for time is precious, make every day worth it like it's your last, because tomorrow comes and it may not be promised. Age don't matter, but the actions we take does, so make it count and really do, "make it count".... 365
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Jul 20, 2021
Jul 20, 2021 at 4:44 PM UTC
365
what do you know about living my life what do you know about drowning inside I know im dying you don't have to tell me im already facing reality losing my dignity so what do think you know im pushing but im barely hanging on down to my last breath on a tightrope of my life and you seem to want to define , mine. like you know but you don't know anything do you?
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Jan 21, 2018
Jan 21, 2018 at 8:28 PM UTC
what do you know
One day at a time Rain, Sun, falling leaves, frost They have come and gone Like love when it resided in this heart Before suffocating Bludgeoned by those Who needed it most I once loved you Like I once loved life But with both Only shards and embers remain Lost in every teardrop One day at a time
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Jan 5, 2018
Jan 5, 2018 at 8:10 PM UTC
365 days
I woke up today like I do any other trying to come out of a dream that confuses my reality when I first wake up for a couple of seconds when I open my eyes I can imagine your still here I can drag my dream into the sunlight and make believe that this whole thing was just a nightmare
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Jan 1, 2018
Jan 1, 2018 at 11:14 AM UTC
Not really a poem
New year is fast approaching Another new beginning of an ending I'm Excited of what it may bring,       scared of what's coming. New opportunities, new challenges And also a lot more chances. New hope, new everything A new chapter in the making. Another story is yet to be made While a new history has been made. Last year's mistakes served as a lesson, To become a better person in this new season. Cheers to happier life! May this new year be filled with smiles and laughter, Making our hearts flutter. May this new year be filled with peace, To make our minds at ease. May this new year be filled with positive vibes, Para iwas bad vibes We survived We made it to page 365 HAPPY NEW YEAR!
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Dec 31, 2017
Dec 31, 2017 at 7:40 AM UTC
Page 365
they told me to think about the future so I bought a calendar ripped out the pages put the whole year on the wall and started crossing out the days I decided I would think of tomorrow and not yesterday
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Feb 17, 2017
Feb 17, 2017 at 3:09 PM UTC
365
It takes about 365 days for the Earth to make one complete rotation around the sun. It takes 365 days to make a year filled with memories and experiences that one will never forget. But the crazily depressing fact that I’ve recently learned is that the world won’t stop spinning, nor will it tilt off axis, if I disappear from it. It ***** to know that you can live 525,600 minutes without even thinking of me. I hate the thought of being that worthless — that even if I just turned invisible, you wouldn’t even know it. It hurts more than you think, realizing that I never mattered that much anyway ; To know that you’d be perfectly fine without me heck maybe you’d be even happier that way. I can’t stand the thought that even after the 365 ways I’ve tried, you’ve found 365 more to get away.
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Apr 28, 2016
Apr 28, 2016 at 7:01 PM UTC
Worth
365 Three simple numbers, a lot of meaning. 365 the number of freckles scattered over your body 365 the amount of times you told me you loved me in one day 365 the last 3 didgits of your cell number 365 the amount of times I watched your chest rise and fall until I fell asleep 365 the total ammount of days since you left 365 May no longer be the amount of freckles you have, she may have found one I missed 365 the amount of times you've said you loved her, it may have multiplied or tripled 365 no longer your last three digits, believe me I've checked 365 days of living without you 365 has tore me down and brought me to hell and back 365 no longer stands for the total number of days in a year 365 stands for how may days my heart has broken and how may times you've said goodbye
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May 19, 2015
May 19, 2015 at 7:31 PM UTC
365
Thinking of you is like twisting my head around like an owl. Hoping the see the past behind me.
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Mar 3, 2015
Mar 3, 2015 at 5:45 PM UTC
Owl
I miss days I never lived and people I've never met because I look at brushstrokes on paintings more carefully than I care to admit and I find myself wishing that all texts were sent by mail Maybe it's the fact that I cannot challenge myself to write on paper, due to it's permanent nature, and pressing 'delete' allows us to begin our days with a sense of carelessness that we nurture by highlighting every moment and pressing 'copy' and 'paste' Perhaps it's the sound of the keys clicking beneath my fingertips that makes me feel as though I am making progress and productivity is occurring or perhaps the familiar music makes me feel less alone Perhaps a typewriter could have done me some good as it would have taught me permanence and also echoed off my bedroom walls to remind me that my thoughts will keep me company when no one else will
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Jan 6, 2015
Jan 6, 2015 at 12:44 AM UTC
See 'History'
365 days of laughter 365 days of sorrow 365 days of friendship 365 days of love 365 days of you 2014 was all about you How you made me who I am today And I thank the stars tonight Because there's nothing else I can say You make me shine bright Bright as the sun at midday How you made me your angel Guarding you every step of the way Kept the secrets you'd never tell Kept your cool during hot summers in may And who caught you whenever you faltered and fell How you made me a flower In our own little flower bed With you as my gardener I have no fear or dread I only hope the grass is always greener So that this love may not go dead
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Jan 1, 2015
Jan 1, 2015 at 10:08 AM UTC
365 days
I'm still not understanding how just 365 days ago things were so much better in life and how just 365 days ago we were proclaiming our love and you promised to stay but now it's 365 days later and I'm laying on a bench in the local park at 5am with a bottle swinging in the air controlled by my hand and that friend who you wanted to protect me from is sitting right beside me gabbing on and on about how life isn't very different from last and all I can think about is yes it is for me.
0
Dec 13, 2014
Dec 13, 2014 at 5:12 PM UTC
365.