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#oddity
that so many of my essays, inspired and devoted to you, Mel says I’m an OCD people pleezer, that is probably so, but I must attend to this finger stroking pov, it’s much more than that, in so many poems, so many comments, you simply hand me a provocation, a holy invocation, a phrase that fazes, words that strike me into instant dazes, cut and pasted, as an entitled commission, worthy of replication praise, a “come to hither” reposting, Nothing more glorious than my stolen breath, when a new poet sends me signal of appreciation, and I, oft accorded the distinction honor of being a “First Follower” perhaps I’ve noted this interchange transactional before, after 2200 poem+a scattered misnomerd odd 1000+ moreover, and this advanced aged mainframe failing computer, oft forget with callous repetition; as more brain cells daily dying, than can hope to ever replace…dying, and forming a tree’s inner circle… so let me say it again: anything you write, whether poem or profile, comment, short or vociferous, is fair game for my 24/7/365 attention span and oft just squirreled away for wildcat drilling exploration when the fear + love in me subsides… <nml>
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Mar 8
Mar 8, 2026 at 1:50 PM UTC
BE ADVISED: tis an oddity, being a First Follower..
night/night time/time night overheats                          wet awake, damp is the status: mystery no more, familiarity brings unsurprise, the machine issues environmental sounds, cool air, deep cover, setup ~ perfect wake up soaked/mystified/drizzled unhappy/awake to change/ meaning comes                          /pieces of randome thoughts/movie trailer bite sized/ these are:                 sweating words/eager for realization/escape needy/impatiented                 by foible human/who needs sleep? is the unasked question... dress for winter, may I? in May?????/!!!!!     /!\                               ~change to summery                                  "ACTIVE WEAR" at-tire<>                                    skin expose<>                                           AM I NOT ACTIVE?                               thus this oddity poem/product of sweat/                               provides cooling panting/dog?   am I a dog?                               that would be nice!                               sadly or nat~not, a human                           o         verfilled / o        verflowing                             tale telling from evrey pore/ Alcatraz                 escape/  recaptured/twisted                                                     d a m p                              became a poem/d a m p is me                              becoming/ reducing/emitting/inquiring/                              enquiring/                              aligned will this be my last poem? sweating with/from/AND all the way over to............................................................Anticipation...
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Apr 19, 2025
Apr 19, 2025 at 2:23 PM UTC
Damp Anticipation
night/night time/time night overheats                          wet awake, damp is the status: mystery no more, familiarity brings unsurprise, the machine issues environmental sounds, cool air, deep cover, setup ~ perfect wake up soaked/mystified/drizzled unhappy/awake to change/ meaning comes                          /pieces of randome thoughts/movie trailer bite sized/ these are:                 sweating words/eager for realization/escape needy/impatiented                 by foible human/who needs sleep? is the unasked question... dress for winter, may I? in May?????/!!!!!     /!\                               ~change to summery                                  "ACTIVE WEAR" at-tire<>                                    skin expose<>                                           AM I NOT ACTIVE?                               thus this oddity poem/product of sweat/                               provides cooling panting/dog?   am I a dog?                               that would be nice!                               sadly or nat~not, a human                           o         verfilled / o        verflowing                             tale telling from evrey pore/ Alcatraz                 escape/  recaptured/twisted                                                     d a m p                              became a poem/d a m p is me                              becoming/ reducing/emitting/inquiring/                              enquiring/                              aligned will this be my last poem? sweating with/from/AND all the way over to............................................................Anticipation...
Continue reading...
33
In the past People used my past to control me But I’m past that so I smack back What they told me. Try to hold me back But you can’t tack a label On a fable, I’m a legend Even if you say I’m unstable. If in competition, they done lost to me Take a shot at me, you intelligence apostasy. Mockingly, they call me an oddity Probably a product of my comedy Step back, laugh, then step on me, See, free entertainment for the public glee! “Gee, why the negativity?” they say to me But I am not listening, glistening In my eyes, but it ain’t tears Fears, I forgot ‘em, buried ‘em last year.
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Oct 3, 2023
Oct 3, 2023 at 4:28 PM UTC
buried
Nawty There How can I address you properly? You can't take off my dress You nawty child You've gotten her pregnant! Get out of this house now He was pulling one off And pulled a muscle It was a power shaft She always upsets him Only coz she loves him The concept of time Meant nothing when fecking They worked as pilots For the Arkansass National Guard
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Aug 27, 2022
Aug 27, 2022 at 5:27 PM UTC
Nawty There
It’s not that she doesn’t wanna write anymore, but her fingers don’t see the point in dragging some Letters to form meaningless sentences. She digs deeper into her skin, leaving ****** marks, smearing them into a circle. Taking that as a reply to her inner question “who are you?” To which this answers loud and clear- a sewer rat. You heard me, a rat.
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Jul 19, 2021
Jul 19, 2021 at 6:09 PM UTC
****** rat
They invite you to dwell on nothing and everything at once. Oddities that soften the sounds that surround you and amplify the beat of life in each breath you take. Far from strangers but hidden in plain sight. Indulging your focus through a narrow tunnel view. Dilating your pupils and lifting your skin through spontaneous extraordinary sensory awareness while depriving you the passage of time. A temporal trap in eternity before you snap and walk away.
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Oct 4, 2020
Oct 4, 2020 at 2:49 PM UTC
Moments of silence.
I sprung at the pinnacle Unwriting my chronicle With love non-reciprocal I shall start anew I laid bare in muddle hub With beasts of animal club I'm stuck at the stub And solitude brew
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Sep 7, 2019
Sep 7, 2019 at 1:55 PM UTC
freestyle blabber #8
In this world, there are some of us who get left behind because we don’t fit the bill. A bill that is arbitrarily in place and which makes some magnificent, many perfectly normal, and some of us a bunch of unworthy f***s who don’t deserve affection, attention, and any of your time. Go on, erase us from your narrative, from this world’s narrative, erase us completely because our bodies are a certain way, because it would require you to change your perspective slightly to accommodate us into your view, because there’s a billion to choose from who are perfectly normal We might as well be not human because some of us don’t get to experience human joys strictly because of how we look. The least you could do is understand very clearly this fact that for whatever reason, not all of us are able to experience being a human in the sense that most of you are able to
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Jun 11, 2019
Jun 11, 2019 at 1:42 AM UTC
Being Human
Tear my skin piece by peace I see the bones leaking in feast Emmergance of the palest formation No more turns for degradation Peal back lids and watch them fall A shell of a mind once stood tall Petals of birth They fall to the ground Each day another None left to surround Lonesome I may Given with greed Taken the chance Most others would flee Break my neck My legs as well Transform me into art May all others go to hell
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Mar 28, 2019
Mar 28, 2019 at 10:23 PM UTC
Peal
Do you think it's odd, They question a millennial generation For being in touch with how they feel? Should I follow you and push it down? Let's pretend none of it is real, yeah? "Close your eyes to injustice, kid. Don't you talk about it, then we'll have to talk about it." A lot of Hollywood has to talk about it. Instead of people putting it to god We put it to our own selves but none aplaud. Rather appauld that we speak. I might fit your snowflake type But my demons aren't melting in my mind Trickling through as you close your eyes. Do you think it's odd, If people don't understand your problem They label you as a weak link But did you ever stop and think If it was your name in an oppression, If it was your heart in a depression, If it was your loved one shooting up, Maybe you'd feel different. You can't help fix these cracked streets If you have your eyes covered in a sheet You aren't a hero for making a toast When the problems hit you were a ghost. Do you think it's odd That we are all people But more often than not **** each other Praying to a god that doesn't pass judgement to you.
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Mar 28, 2019
Mar 28, 2019 at 5:12 PM UTC
Just an oddity
The waiting girl had leather boots studded with her payment of lavish jewels Blood red in the dead of the night from all those daring dead fools She entered the bar amongst the dancing and shouted at all the ghouls Though what she said did not shield her from the hellish banshee She saw her target amongst the prostitutes dripping with foreign ecstasy She held her .44 and let him lie in death's dark sea
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Apr 1, 2017
Apr 1, 2017 at 9:51 PM UTC
Duchess Death-Deal
Stagnation never takes its course within oneself. Praying at the crossroads, hoping things would go well. Ahead of us lies A Different standard of meaning, Adding concrete facets to the once so-called oddity. Clinging on the urge to stay on track and keep moving. I just take this strange continuum, Leaving all my peers bemused and clueless. Have I changed, have I gone insane? Even past is haunting me, I have no time to turn around . . .
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Feb 19, 2017
Feb 19, 2017 at 4:24 PM UTC
Spatial Relation
It's so nice to be lost In something other than my mind No matter what the cost I have definitely come to find That this is me at my best With a chance to care A chance to let my soul rest And I am acutely aware That this is the highest I get Consequently the farthest I fall But I never find it to be a bad bet Because all good things start small Though I tend to move quick It's by no means in a rush It's just you give my brain a kick And here I am with a bit of a crush
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Jun 3, 2016
Jun 3, 2016 at 5:21 PM UTC
No Bad Bets
Lazy imagination and a rushing mind I try to shine light on the thoughts behind These vacant stares and shifty smiles Like you know I hate you but would let you stay awhile I'm dececptive, receptive, stressed out and so simplisitic But these images are so perverted yes I'm so sadistic Trippin' away in my own ******* basement Noddin' away to this muzik content to feel complacent My mind ebbs and flows entranced in ink As it floods the pad it is everything I ever think
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Jan 17, 2016
Jan 17, 2016 at 9:53 PM UTC
Trippin'
I am an odd mix of things lovely and foul, tame and wild, open and guarded. -s.n
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Jun 1, 2015
Jun 1, 2015 at 8:25 PM UTC
Untitled
The old music box your beloved grandmother Gave you for your seventh birthday Starts to play some melody again But the tunes are discordant, unfamiliar The story book you first learn to read Are now on your hands again You begin to carefully flip the pages But the plot is now different, unfamiliar The letters your previous lover had sent you Lurk underneath your tidy bed Reminiscing while you read them again But the words are changed, unfamiliar The house you have dwelled in For so many days, months, years You enter through the door so casually But the interior looks foreign, unfamiliar The road you always take Whenever you stroll and ponder Leads you to the same quiet place But the scenery is different, unfamiliar The words your mother told you Numerous reminders to keep yourself safe She repeats them all over again But her voice sounds pretentious, unfamiliar The mirror leaning against the wall in your room Beckons you to stand before it You see yourself through the reflection But your face is not yours, unfamiliar
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Jul 13, 2014
Jul 13, 2014 at 12:29 PM UTC
Day 4 // 07.14.14