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#degrees
It takes STEP BY STEP, You don't have to RUSH, Just take your TIME, POSITIVITY IS A PLUS!!! Just go about it GRADUALLY, and Take it DAY BY DAY, If you keep this up then, You will be on your MERRY WAY!!! JUST TAKE THINGS SLOWLY, and IN DEGREES, Once you have ADJUSTED, you WILL FEEL AT EASE. It will be MELLOW and It will BE A BREEZE, You got it now, and YOU AIM TO PLEASE!!! BE COURAGEOUS and ENCOURAGE YOURSELF, YOU HAVE ONE BODY, and HEALTH IS WEALTH!!! JUST DON'T GIVE UP, THIS IS A SLOW PROGRESS, IF YOU CONTINUE LIKE THIS, YOU WILL ACHIEVE SUCCESS!!!! B.R. Date: 1/4/2025
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Jan 4, 2025
Jan 4, 2025 at 6:36 PM UTC
Step-by-Step
75°F & Alive & Minding the Perfection morning mindfulness, surrounded by perfect, once again, may it be forever this-a-way I have no idea what I’ve done to be so blessed; and I repay with gratitude in this psalm hymnal, poor though it may be, it is genuine, poured from within the open confines of all I have learned, earned, & burned; 75°F & Alive  & Minding the Perfection, the color contrast is an overwhelming, an all encompassed scheme makes neighbors, even, total strangers greet each other like beloved brothers & sisters, this heaven is infecting, an infectious breeze of the stillness of early morn born and carried in our cell’s walls, strong are the nuclei, and this memory, this poem devotion, this ttributary of words flows with slowed ease, and the troubles are banished to the back of the pack, tho the line be long, the golden oldies music banishes them to a temporary oblivion and within a totality of solitude alone,   momentarily, my heart, fulsome, yes trite but true, is crazy overflowing, I’m in danger of loving everyone, for to not, would be criminal if it were even a possibility if i could snap my genie fingers, beware, I’d summon y’all, a global contraction perfect, to convent/sit beside me, your presence welcomed with a hot beverage, a cooling drink, for every one always get what they w a n t ***and yea, yeah, yeah this is a forever & always, only a love poem…***
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Jul 26, 2024
Jul 26, 2024 at 11:00 AM UTC
Untilted 😉 but, 75°F & Alive & Minding the Perfection
Take me back to that place Where dichotomies of North or South Right or Wrong Become Translucent Ground Zero Equilibrium.
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Dec 30, 2020
Dec 30, 2020 at 4:57 PM UTC
Equator
Stark trees on the hill line intertwine with the sky Their branches be parted bent by the wind Sourced from a height Droplets dance Ripples spit Wet doesn't quit No gold in sight at ten degrees Given what is seen only green grey and white
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Feb 19, 2020
Feb 19, 2020 at 4:51 PM UTC
View from a room
winter weepingly bitter counts to ten d e g r e e s then cries some more
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Jun 28, 2019
Jun 28, 2019 at 6:36 PM UTC
Winter Weeping
Sometimes diplomas are deleterious to a degree it seems the cap, gown, and certificate holder buys a telescope and starts using it to see loses the ability to write freely and bolder becomes particularly adept at speaking in snark - so much easier than personally and intimately connecting - preferring critique to finding and being a creative spark becoming expert not so much from practice as from correcting. I knew a man who used to be my friend until he acquired his PhD then he began to depart and ascend too high for him to see little ole me I knew a few too who were doctors and buddies whose degrees didn’t pedestal them who didn’t let their higher studies erase their humor, make their hearts go dim.
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Mar 19, 2019
Mar 19, 2019 at 12:10 PM UTC
Degree of Snark
before the world burned cities vanished water rose and the air became too thick to breathe it was a nice place but to most   not nice enough to fight for
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Mar 15, 2019
Mar 15, 2019 at 6:06 PM UTC
before
it should have been 41 degrees today. the hottest day of summer. i prepared. i wore shorts to work. it rained like noah's flood. i didnt see it coming but i heard the rumbles like drums from hell. i wrote words for jane and i never thought id ever show her. i read her two poems and she liked the one that wasnt about her much more. it should have been 41 degrees today.
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Aug 8, 2018
Aug 8, 2018 at 12:49 AM UTC
celsius
Far moost o' me three score minus one year tethered upon terra firmae where planet Earth doth veer (spins upon the global axis (tilted 23.5 degrees from the plane of its orbit around the sun), terrestrial genesis (perhaps accompanied for Pete's sake by Gabriel blowing his horn) in all honesty unclear boot more oven concern points to thermonuclear and/or subnuclear war, particularly at forefront of thine primate noggin actively hypothesizing theoretical armageddon, when non plus ultra gravitates with e pluribus unum necessitating each individual to bend over and kiss his/her rear goodbye unless total merciless queer hue loss atomic fallout immediately incinerates e'en the moost savvy profiteer, which aforementioned prognostication arose from overbear ring hazy, hot and humid dangerous heat spell near lee approximating insufferable temperature nearing triple digits (along Eastern Seaboard of United baked States makes this human, an immediate convert to climate control (though he happened tubby already) basking, glorifying, and luxuriating within delightful 60º Fahrenheit mere really expressing gratitude for such creature comfort donning my stretched out birthday suit, (yet thee moost comfortable leisurewear then thrift store "special bag mountain of clothes as mooch as Yukon sales," no matter mine ill mannered mirrored reflection doth jeer at such a sorry sight, and/or laugh reading interlinear monologue colloquy, which message gleaned between lines, and should this poem be red aloud, thy ******** passion linkedin with humming HVAC, ye would hear courtesy hove cochlear (hollow tube in the inner ear) sensitive to deafening sounds...so beware!
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Jun 30, 2018
Jun 30, 2018 at 4:02 PM UTC
An Aire ' Bout Central Air
Far moost o' me three score minus one year tethered upon terra firmae where planet Earth doth veer (spins upon the global axis (tilted 23.5 degrees from the plane of its orbit around the sun), terrestrial genesis (perhaps accompanied for Pete's sake by Gabriel blowing his horn) in all honesty unclear boot more oven concern points to thermonuclear and/or subnuclear war, particularly at forefront of thine primate noggin actively hypothesizing theoretical armageddon, when non plus ultra gravitates with e pluribus unum necessitating each individual to bend over and kiss his/her rear goodbye unless total merciless queer hue loss atomic fallout immediately incinerates e'en the moost savvy profiteer, which aforementioned prognostication arose from overbear ring hazy, hot and humid dangerous heat spell near lee approximating insufferable temperature nearing triple digits (along Eastern Seaboard of United baked States makes this human, an immediate convert to climate control (though he happened tubby already) basking, glorifying, and luxuriating within delightful 60º Fahrenheit mere really expressing gratitude for such creature comfort donning my stretched out birthday suit, (yet thee moost comfortable leisurewear then thrift store "special bag mountain of clothes as mooch as Yukon sales," no matter mine ill mannered mirrored reflection doth jeer at such a sorry sight, and/or laugh reading interlinear monologue colloquy, which message gleaned between lines, and should this poem be red aloud, thy ******** passion linkedin with humming HVAC, ye would hear courtesy hove cochlear (hollow tube in the inner ear) sensitive to deafening sounds...so beware!
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February 8th, 2018 - 11:06pm. In. An. The. How much deeper will this go? This desert. This baron land and escape from the moonlit evenings’ effervescent engineering of short-lived Neanderthals. These voices are enough to split our hides through and through like an cheese grater, that pants-boots combo chases us into the early morning forecast. I need to get out with her. We need to get out from here. We need to go out from this place. There are hexes and hieroglyphs places matte with ill-defined Finnish designs. There is the yolk and that which copies it. There is the phone and the web of tangling eyes whose corpus is mimicry. I am the notes and the music is taking me down, down, down. Whether it’s our dreams or the sweats that keep us ratcheting our bodies beaten eyes hooked to the cadavers we once chose. Now it’s up to you to choose. This is the fuse that we’ve let loose, maybe your furnace can curtsy and observe these sad blackened buffoons while they make us shrivel up and go hide back in our bed cocoons. This is a zoo I tell you and you tell me. This is a zoo of mayhem, hedonists, and 400° degrees. These are the tiny beds we hide in until they melt us down, into the heirs of our highness, our luxuries quick to abscond.
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Feb 9, 2018
Feb 9, 2018 at 6:55 AM UTC
February 8th
It's finally getting cold again, and I won't have to worry about the sweater I'm in.
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Sep 24, 2017
Sep 24, 2017 at 7:42 AM UTC
40 degrees
Life is cruel and unkind Boiled over with wasted time Count the hands of moments lost, tick by seconds, minutes tossed Temperature rises and hits the mark A hundred degrees turns too stark Bed of sand and heat wave sear Weigh it down with constant fear Mercury rises an internal kind Cuts right through a melted mind Turn it off, burn the fool Anger mounts then its cool
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Aug 13, 2015
Aug 13, 2015 at 11:40 AM UTC
Boiled Over