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#respite
Those so demeaned creatures, the other white meat, Porky and that one, from Charlotte's web, Some Pig, that one, blue ribbon from the fair in old time farm times, as we had ourselves, once, and then again, a time, to just take what we wanted, for once, take it all, just beware the hidden truth in commands from scruples, adjusted fecklessness, pangs of con-scientious-ness, slowing social truths less dull edge, as sharper at this point, than fear, sharper at this instance in this state of consciously sharing mind as wares, soft expandable each stretchy images spat inadvertently to spell spiritual volunteers blinking thinking we ought at least try, just once, as a we of me and thee, thinking peace is positioned whying out loud, yes, we know better, but how loudly do we laugh, clowns cry, that's what the circus is for, but we who believe run the show, you know.
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Mar 3
Mar 3, 2026 at 6:39 PM UTC
Swine Swim, and eat oysters, gnoshit
Repose in the space between heartbeats Reflect the past folds gently into now Reminisce and let memory breathe Respite your troubled mind Rest your weary soul Refrain from hustle Retreat to silence Refuse to adhere Resist the hurry Relax in peace Restoration Resolve Rest
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Nov 6, 2025
Nov 6, 2025 at 12:02 AM UTC
Rhythm of Rest
I get so nervous when I love something And I put it down And I leave it Thinking that I must be leaving for good Instead of merely enjoying something else I worry that I will never have anything forever And I wonder If that is why I love things so deeply When I have them I love them so hard I tear them apart So they don't do it to me first But they do We do We tear each other apart So yes I leave them after With regret and remorseful But satisfied But if it's special enough I find myself back at it's door Knocking Hat in hand Wondering if it's been worried I Also wouldn't return I worry when it opens the door They will slam it Before I can say I am sorry I left And how much I missed it I worry I am the only one Who thinks about the death of love While in the middle of it But it does too It always does too And in my fear Its so loud that I can never hear It whispering to me I'll miss you And I'll see you when you get back
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May 8, 2025
May 8, 2025 at 8:46 PM UTC
Hello, poetry...
Music is a momentary salvation Through the ailings we suffer. A thin buffer, Between the painful past and Future troubles.
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May 15, 2024
May 15, 2024 at 1:03 PM UTC
The Most Hated
Tonight is a Terrible, Silent Respite From The Cruel, Cruel March. The Brilliance of Sunlight's Beauty Begins to Scar With Cracks of Dark . The Echoes Of The Universe Are Few And Far Apart, And In This Of All My Treasured Moments, I Wonder Where You Are? The Pillars And Foundations Sometimes Fall From So Many Things That Were Beautiful And Tears I Weep As Light Escapes, Kneeling Before The Fireplace, To The Flames, Whose Soul Burns to Embrace The Many Broken Parts Of Me, That Can No Longer Be Replaced.
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Jul 11, 2021
Jul 11, 2021 at 10:20 AM UTC
Where Are You?.. I Need You...
My heart is soft today Thinking of the suffering Of all those who are near And those who are far The known and unknown Living beings everywhere in pain - in their body and mind Deep within in their souls in any kind of tears fears, trauma, heartache I raise my eyes to heaven Pray for light to surround them The fragrance of love Succor, consolation, respite Now and forever more
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Jul 19, 2018
Jul 19, 2018 at 11:49 PM UTC
Epistle to Heaven
the last word falls like a mountain on a dove a shadow on a child a bullet through a rose and no-one knows quill rests between cold fingers the ink is dry
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Mar 5, 2018
Mar 5, 2018 at 5:20 PM UTC
last word
Elapsing into cognitive repercussions, a thought never one to fade. Always an afterimage burnt on to the psyche of delicate dewdrops clinging. Within a consciousness that never evaporates just lingers in a reflection of it hanging Like its waiting to suffocate but the breath of reality gives it respite.
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Feb 28, 2018
Feb 28, 2018 at 4:29 PM UTC
When A Memory Lingers
long ago we lay quietly in the aftermath of an exhaustive period of rage the eye of this terrible storm rendering a peaceful moment 'don't ever leave me' you said in such a pitiful whisper that I almost believed you such a haunting, calming plea that I knew at that moment I'd never forget this night even if it be our last
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Feb 22, 2018
Feb 22, 2018 at 7:27 PM UTC
aftermath
I’d like to run… Away from the madding crowd Where I feel trapped and alone In a world full of people. I’d like to escape, if only for a while, From where I feel like a stranger In a world that I used to belong, That used to feel my home. I’d like to go to a distant place Where I could be alone, Even for just a moment, That even my thoughts could not find me. I am a strong woman, But I am exhausted. I’m tired of fixing Everything that is broken. Giving everything to everyone Until nothing is left for me. I’m tired of giving love But not getting love back in return. I’m tired of being kind To people who are ungrateful. I am tired, But I am not giving up. I just need a place of respite To heal my aching body, Restore my soul, Recharge my spirit. Loving can be exhausting, But loving is what keeps me going. I’m going away from the madding crowd To find myself from where I thought I’ve lost it. ©Penchie Limbo
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Feb 14, 2018
Feb 14, 2018 at 10:47 PM UTC
Away From The Madding Crowd
The beast mortified inside Breast aflame about to burn Inside he dies Where the black flower Blooms into anew He will seek respite For past sins Old grievances Poured into a summer blue His *** meaningless Spite cracks the whip Plurality the dinner knife Sanitation foresaw Without the forceps Boarding on a foregone conclusion The spring mattress Made broken No time for resale His' cage, not a solitude Words obtuse and unabused Love is his knight Shining and gleaming Scornful without hate Shameful but sane His burden The heart Colliding with the bar
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Jan 25, 2018
Jan 25, 2018 at 12:19 AM UTC
Bar Fly
Each day as our trials wash o'er us We glean the comfort He gives We yearn for respite from mourning For His promise of songs in the night. 8.9.2017 cynthia jean poems
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Aug 9, 2017
Aug 9, 2017 at 12:21 PM UTC
Songs in the Night
"Just five minutes more" is the cry. Playtime has been interrupted by the familiar "hurry up." Vocabulary common to every parent: "You've had ten more already. Time to get out." Why do they insist? My needs never win the battle. Why is my fun spoilt with this never ending list of demands? "Oh, it's not fair" is yelled in anguish and responded to by further rebuke. The severity of consequence based on their ambiguous countdown is increasing; a thread of the "Thinking Spot" will no doubt soon follow. A few grumbles are followed by silent protest, albeit underpinned with a threat of childish tantrum. It's time for the family meal and this standoff has but one resolution. Isolated relaxation time is over. The timetable of the young child at the door demands no less; the parent must vacate their ten minute bath.
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Jul 4, 2017
Jul 4, 2017 at 1:40 PM UTC
A little longer...please...
in summer, soft in lights dying, this still pool... here rest my heart
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Feb 26, 2017
Feb 26, 2017 at 9:55 AM UTC
haiku no. 52
Shallow trenches flooded with ink, paths worn in paper, pull me from the brink. Background chatter and grey noise fills our head, ten minutes a day respite, or I'll end up dead. Static rain ice cold on my skin, but it's dry at twilight, in the ghost town within.
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Feb 16, 2016
Feb 16, 2016 at 11:47 AM UTC
Busy Being Beaten
Brass enlightenment . . . All the pub droning hoppy, . . . India IPA.
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Sep 26, 2014
Sep 26, 2014 at 6:50 PM UTC
Haiku ( mirth )
In the blank pages Where my feelings flow freely Once suppressed within my heart The ink overflows with emotions Across the white canvas Where the nomadic mind gets respite From constant supervision of the world The blank pages offer a tranquil retreat Healing the soul of all travails
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Sep 4, 2014
Sep 4, 2014 at 2:49 PM UTC
There is Peace
Gushing stream The hot water cleanses My body of its imperfections My mind of its worries Instead filling me up With voices from the make-believe Allowing for just A moment of respite It may not last long But here in the rush I cannot feel anything Or hear anything But the water and me I am alone Perfectly alone I am happy here.
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Jul 26, 2014
Jul 26, 2014 at 1:33 PM UTC
Untitled
You are sweet to me But I know how you can be Yet I will not stop this or complain Because I need a friend Who won't judge me on my pain A friend who makes me feel Warmth and some self-worth You make me smile And forget about him For a while.
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Jul 26, 2014
Jul 26, 2014 at 1:29 PM UTC
Respite
You were totally something else. Like a calm respite overcoming an instance of excitement. Magic and other prime words that can dictate the inarticulate adjectives that was this afternoon. Happiness and pleasure. A coexistence. To coexist. Soy.
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May 3, 2014
May 3, 2014 at 12:36 PM UTC
Soy
A block in my heart angers my hand. I cannot write, I cannot write! I fear i'll find no respite tonight. All of my letters melt into sand. They are a black hole: everything and nothing. We are but star dust the Sun sheds off his skin. We struggle through our lives fighting our original sin. I cannot write, I cannot write. I know i'll find no respite tonight. My words are everything and nothing.
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Mar 28, 2012
Mar 28, 2012 at 5:21 PM UTC
Nepenthe