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"abbreviations" poems
Abbreviations of the Life Human these little stories, bejeweled poeticals, long tall tales, short-held breaths from the savings account breast, all slow withdrawing-dawning, all are but the abbreviations of the life human my fav of course, the one, the twenty six the aleph best bet <•> 4-16-18 10:47pm a mondo Monday survivors prayer
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Apr 16, 2018
Apr 16, 2018 at 11:16 PM UTC
Abbreviations of the Life Human
heads turn and minds churn as the old white knuckle brings life to the board facilitation (and procreation!) become heavenly fit for the paradigm day jitter men and podium seniors sit cocked in the back row front runners bust a brain box (their lines frayed and edges portrayed) truth makers tread the center stage (with a new and improved product portfolio) an evolution of human spirit mobilized in apparent perfect form sound bites and titillating calls echo from the main hall a wise man cringes on a poorly timed exchange mind sets moving quid pro quo intuitions and convictions viewpoints and revelations all fun and fundamental (or so they say) depth charts and zodiac principles speak to the masses abbreviations refreshers and timeless lifelines *we’d like a peak inside of you* a glimpse of your point of view the turks and talking heads speak of grand design and inclusion class complete (interpreted at the 7th sneeze) please check those thoughts and insights the final answers are coming (satiric)
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Sep 16, 2017
Sep 16, 2017 at 1:54 PM UTC
Gutter Statement
I've got poetic licence So I can right however I want. Even if whatever I right doesn't make sense I kan right with whichever font. I use my poetic licence in whatever I right An sometimes, de thins I right does not look write I have de power power 2 repeat rhymes Over and over countless of times I use abbreviations in de mst unusual ways My, commas, and!!!!!, escalations, marks come!!! as they may!!!! I've got poetic licence cos I am a poet I use it in odes, elegys, ballads, epitaphs, and sometimes in sonnets. I am never rong. And with my poetic license I will remain strung.
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Apr 4, 2015
Apr 4, 2015 at 3:54 PM UTC
PoETiC LiCeNCe
allocation of supreme alliteration illustrates perpetual contemplation and concentration that dictates a maligned mastication of federal incarceration of elongated complementary probation leaving you cuffed and based on baseless accusations conducted in aboriginal abbreviations masked task force concluding a course of brevity conducted in coordination then coordinating and copulating condemnation for a homeostasis of thought bought scolded eroded and shot inefficacy perpetrating cultural holocaust irrelevance somersaults galactic static of mathematical bombastic smack addict glued shut in a craft attic floral resurrection gartered section of ****** selection she moves fluid through unaltered perfection of cosmic bypass past the point of extemporaneous infinitude reciprocating fortitude of sinews congregating fabricating visuals of vitality soldering axonal membranes on the cerebellum and cortex simulation of sensual vortex demented fusion more blessed I am that which stands to understand the incomprehensible unconsidered options of racial conflicts the screaming round of unaltered copper fiber severing life from the living only now can we debunk the years
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Apr 17, 2013
Apr 17, 2013 at 9:01 AM UTC
White Demon
Many people get the wrong idea as to what certain abbreviations stand for, so I'll clear it up for you. Nintendo DS: Nintendo Derek Sanderson NES: Neely Esposito Sanderson WC: Wayne Cashman 3D: 3 Docders SOS: Help PE: Phil Esposito ER: Erwin Rommel SD Card: Sanderson, Derek Card RC Car: Rodney Crowell Car GPS: Girls' Phrases **** BRB: Bring Reagan Back TTYL: Ta Ta You Loser BC: Bourque Cashman TYMDPMFGMTITMTP: Thank You MrDrProffessor Murly For Giving Me The Idea To Make This Poem NSA: 'Nuff Said Already
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Jul 2, 2014
Jul 2, 2014 at 10:08 AM UTC
Abbreviations
it's inherent ontology, it's not even necessary to process inherited ontology; inherited ontology can be riddled and lost to abstraction like the invention of crosswords as antidote to the drilling-in of the Bible... but inherent ontology? inherent is a tautological invitation to italicise the word ontology - tautology anti synonym - the doubly stressed, point origin secured, but from two adjacent / adjective angles - well, might as well be a compound, the adjacent-adjective, when language meets math and math meets.... d'uh... or simply arithmetic, because that's how it's easily translated, arithmetic is grey people and math the rich... language the poets and grammar the farts. a shortened critique of pure reason -                                                                   a) based on phenomena                     (things most likely talked about) and                                             b) based of noumenna                                         (things least likely talked about).... i.e.                    a) and the ego implant, and                                                      b) the god implant - likewise the zealots on either side, bleep bleep beep r r e r s.... and muslims... i forgot to mention that Kant forgot to mention the trigonometric foundations as justifying owning a villa or whatnot, the same foundations of having the implant ego secured and willed are the same parameters of the implant god secured and thought the point being dynamic parallelism, mid-way between cosine and sine rigid fluctuation tangents occur, the ridiculous abbreviations, the p.s., and ibis.; you're basically born with ego or you're born with god - there's no woof woof Pavlov chime chime in between - ring-a-ding-ding-surprise? there's no side-winding to create cinema - being born with ego is explained clearly, coerced with monetary affairs; being born with god is explained "clearly", coerced with murderers, lastly - no psychological theory will box-me-in given the lost tribalism and the usage of the trans-valuation of the synonym of thing - with money came slang - and all thorough evils, with slang, synonyms, antonyms, critique of vocab., Arizona in the ******* Amazon - i'm basically saying what Kant said: god isn't uncool or whatever atheism tends to forget, it's an implant of functioning, we can't rid it by argument, and we certainly can't accept it by prayer - unless we're dumb enough to do either for worth of understanding tornadoes; because that's were Seymour Hoffman started for me, filming Twister.
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Jun 24, 2016
Jun 24, 2016 at 7:29 PM UTC
a shortened critique of pure reason / adjacent-adjective compound
it's inherent ontology, it's not even necessary to process inherited ontology; inherited ontology can be riddled and lost to abstraction like the invention of crosswords as antidote to the drilling-in of the Bible... but inherent ontology? inherent is a tautological invitation to italicise the word ontology - tautology anti synonym - the doubly stressed, point origin secured, but from two adjacent / adjective angles - well, might as well be a compound, the adjacent-adjective, when language meets math and math meets.... d'uh... or simply arithmetic, because that's how it's easily translated, arithmetic is grey people and math the rich... language the poets and grammar the farts. a shortened critique of pure reason -                                                                   a) based on phenomena                     (things most likely talked about) and                                             b) based of noumenna                                         (things least likely talked about).... i.e.                    a) and the ego implant, and                                                      b) the god implant - likewise the zealots on either side, bleep bleep beep r r e r s.... and muslims... i forgot to mention that Kant forgot to mention the trigonometric foundations as justifying owning a villa or whatnot, the same foundations of having the implant ego secured and willed are the same parameters of the implant god secured and thought the point being dynamic parallelism, mid-way between cosine and sine rigid fluctuation tangents occur, the ridiculous abbreviations, the p.s., and ibis.; you're basically born with ego or you're born with god - there's no woof woof Pavlov chime chime in between - ring-a-ding-ding-surprise? there's no side-winding to create cinema - being born with ego is explained clearly, coerced with monetary affairs; being born with god is explained "clearly", coerced with murderers, lastly - no psychological theory will box-me-in given the lost tribalism and the usage of the trans-valuation of the synonym of thing - with money came slang - and all thorough evils, with slang, synonyms, antonyms, critique of vocab., Arizona in the ******* Amazon - i'm basically saying what Kant said: god isn't uncool or whatever atheism tends to forget, it's an implant of functioning, we can't rid it by argument, and we certainly can't accept it by prayer - unless we're dumb enough to do either for worth of understanding tornadoes; because that's were Seymour Hoffman started for me, filming Twister.
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45
I am circumcised, therefore, I enunciate... circumcised: to purify spiritually On the eighth day, from my nativity, circumcised, as is the custom of my wandering tribe. marked thusly, perma-identity carded, thusly begins the path, a pink-bricked road this one, not to the Mighty Oz, no phony curtain pulled aside, where anyone goes to get spiritual purification for a price Ah, you suspected something else, something explicit, not me~style, give you honey, road provisions, come along for the observing his clickety clackty clock Ready? For where we venture there is only one exit, And you are so not ready - I am who I am and I am not ready too... every line an enunciation, every stanza an annunciation, Angel Gabriel, a solo duo, unlike Beyoncé and Jesus we be on our way to any kind of purity, poetry can buy who knows what awaits us, could be catholic, universal, even the uncircumcised get a chance to enunciate. let me offer a clarification. proclamations and sensations, conditions and exploitations, brown eyed girls, and surfer boys, functions and malfunctions too, abbreviations or adjudications, conjugations in the congregation, exhumation, the final excommunication, I shun none, I enunciate this: false starts and junction boxes, too many so so tired, when can I lay down my shovel and cease the decreasing deceasing of the body this day nears complete, and soon to eat the last meal, and still I ask when can I lay down my shovel, when will purity be mine, my spirit's circumstances repeat the commercial, I am circumcised, therefore, I enunciate... forgive my abstrusion, my metaphors always offer perfect laxity, choose the interpretation that pleases most and my drift is toward the end of days, when will my brow be a motif of anointment and crowning head birth? This is my Enunciation. I cannot yet lay down the shovel, and this writ is as of yet, still uncircumcised - completely incomplete, it will be finished when the spirit says you are the purity, the trinity of two hands holding two others holding two others holding two others and the chain is perfect because it is broken perfectly, a forever repetitive respective handle with care process Forgive my visionary words that give little clarity, so summary due you, This is my Pronoun citation I am I am circumcised, therefore, I enunciate on my way to the purity of spirit.
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Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 9:19 PM UTC
I am circumcised, therefore, I enunciate...
I am circumcised, therefore, I enunciate... circumcised: to purify spiritually On the eighth day, from my nativity, circumcised, as is the custom of my wandering tribe. marked thusly, perma-identity carded, thusly begins the path, a pink-bricked road this one, not to the Mighty Oz, no phony curtain pulled aside, where anyone goes to get spiritual purification for a price Ah, you suspected something else, something explicit, not me~style, give you honey, road provisions, come along for the observing his clickety clackty clock Ready? For where we venture there is only one exit, And you are so not ready - I am who I am and I am not ready too... every line an enunciation, every stanza an annunciation, Angel Gabriel, a solo duo, unlike Beyoncé and Jesus we be on our way to any kind of purity, poetry can buy who knows what awaits us, could be catholic, universal, even the uncircumcised get a chance to enunciate. let me offer a clarification. proclamations and sensations, conditions and exploitations, brown eyed girls, and surfer boys, functions and malfunctions too, abbreviations or adjudications, conjugations in the congregation, exhumation, the final excommunication, I shun none, I enunciate this: false starts and junction boxes, too many so so tired, when can I lay down my shovel and cease the decreasing deceasing of the body this day nears complete, and soon to eat the last meal, and still I ask when can I lay down my shovel, when will purity be mine, my spirit's circumstances repeat the commercial, I am circumcised, therefore, I enunciate... forgive my abstrusion, my metaphors always offer perfect laxity, choose the interpretation that pleases most and my drift is toward the end of days, when will my brow be a motif of anointment and crowning head birth? This is my Enunciation. I cannot yet lay down the shovel, and this writ is as of yet, still uncircumcised - completely incomplete, it will be finished when the spirit says you are the purity, the trinity of two hands holding two others holding two others holding two others and the chain is perfect because it is broken perfectly, a forever repetitive respective handle with care process Forgive my visionary words that give little clarity, so summary due you, This is my Pronoun citation I am I am circumcised, therefore, I enunciate on my way to the purity of spirit.
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84
~one more for the r man~ almost Monday and its weighty five day oppressive lead poisoning on the horizon, is but a thirsty thirty six minutes away from its fortified Sumter, first shot to be fired at midnight, how we love to mark the commencement of hostilities and killing but I am already wounded, a casualty of having spent evening with pleading, pleasing timer eating, reading of your work, r the sounds of inestimable admiration and infectious jealousy make this old man eager to discard a lifetimes work and begin fresh, but only as a copyist of you, r I know you’re thinking "what in the hell is he blubbering about?" so I willingly will my confessional offering in the dark of the holy bedroom; for you make me eat my words, and spit them out as wastage, in dumbfounding humility god you and yours, make me frail and blessed that I stumbled upon your abbreviations of the human life, r shut up and accept my three r’s reading ‘riting and rising up to sing hymns of praise for a man with a historical perspective and whose few occasionals are carved in the granite bench of what makes my life worthy of load bearing; more than bearable, all are soul-enlightened by baring our humility, our admiration 11:24pm 4/15/18 nyc
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Apr 15, 2018
Apr 15, 2018 at 11:53 PM UTC
the three r’s (one last one for r)
Let me apologize to begin with For the way I have to say this to you Instant and digital with the flawless 12 point form in a unison moment All these words flow like lies from a child And flawed, a 1984 Brave New World Jacked in and online, I swear to God Microsoft is a virus in my veins and the Side-effects leave me nauseated and yet Comforted with the connection I feel With everyone under this epidemic And Mac is a twisted strain of my particular Insanity. Glossy and chic in my pocket, on the go, Steve Jobs is the ancestor of Doctor Wily Making *** some bandwagon that needs jumping Like SkyNet will make me safer, I’ve heard it before I wish this paper was yellow and crackling With the orange firelight it was written under On a sofa, pipe in hand, with the Raven tapping Melodramatic to the point of genius Rather then the cliché that emotion has somehow become And abbreviations become acronyms and symbols Who has killed the fair maiden of language? Beautifully laid and strung, pearls upon my page Folded into my pockets and on the margins of reality Like a child unwilling to wait to show his parents The words escape and flee and I panic, pen trembling Mind to tongue to hand and nerves in the ink Like meter and scheme trying to restrain this infinite Strand of DNA that is the flawless combinations of letters And letters! Curved like a woman tempting and pleasing To round my pen and finding sanity in the corners and points Or the cursive dribble of calligraphic art practiced endlessly By the scholars, monks, orphans, or even the X of a slave Bearing his mark, leaving himself branded on the page But I most apologize, I will get carried away And that is not the way Times New Romans likes it
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Mar 15, 2011
Mar 15, 2011 at 7:23 PM UTC
Microsoft Word Took my Voice
Let me apologize to begin with For the way I have to say this to you Instant and digital with the flawless 12 point form in a unison moment All these words flow like lies from a child And flawed, a 1984 Brave New World Jacked in and online, I swear to God Microsoft is a virus in my veins and the Side-effects leave me nauseated and yet Comforted with the connection I feel With everyone under this epidemic And Mac is a twisted strain of my particular Insanity. Glossy and chic in my pocket, on the go, Steve Jobs is the ancestor of Doctor Wily Making *** some bandwagon that needs jumping Like SkyNet will make me safer, I’ve heard it before I wish this paper was yellow and crackling With the orange firelight it was written under On a sofa, pipe in hand, with the Raven tapping Melodramatic to the point of genius Rather then the cliché that emotion has somehow become And abbreviations become acronyms and symbols Who has killed the fair maiden of language? Beautifully laid and strung, pearls upon my page Folded into my pockets and on the margins of reality Like a child unwilling to wait to show his parents The words escape and flee and I panic, pen trembling Mind to tongue to hand and nerves in the ink Like meter and scheme trying to restrain this infinite Strand of DNA that is the flawless combinations of letters And letters! Curved like a woman tempting and pleasing To round my pen and finding sanity in the corners and points Or the cursive dribble of calligraphic art practiced endlessly By the scholars, monks, orphans, or even the X of a slave Bearing his mark, leaving himself branded on the page But I most apologize, I will get carried away And that is not the way Times New Romans likes it
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37
*White. Female. Middle Class. Heterosexual. Agnostic. Libertarian.* Yeah. That's me. That's that first layer, thin as the paper you could read it on. Just a Jane Doe, a nameless, faceless demographic. But peeling back the layers, ripping through page on page of a complicated novel, digging down into a bottomless hole to China, unravelling the intricate web of stereotypestruthsliesassumptionsprejudice and there you will find me, a colorless genderless asexual spirit whose frame is crafted and molded not with how the world chooses to see me and who "they" deem me to be; no. A guy that didn't know me well once told me that I spoke more urban than he expected, and I couldn't help but wonder why someone from an urban area couldn't speak like they were from a city, like somehow what he saw in my whitefemaleheterosexualmiddleclassagnosticlibertarian prologue forbade me from speaking in colloquials and abbreviations. Oh, I apologize, I laughed later to my friend, **law students are supposed to speak with an ostentatious vocabulary and an heir of (superfluous) arrogance.** I am rarely a prototype of what it means to be White, of what it means to be female; middle-class or not, my parents insisted at age 8 that I begin to understand the value of a dollar; my sexuality indicates little about my level of attraction to the world around me; agnostic is really just a term I put because I'm still trying to figure out whether I really believe everything I was forced to learn at Catholic school; and isn't Libertarian just a fancy word for I don't want to choose liberal or conservative? It's insulting to ingest how much is insinuated about my depth in the shallowest of pools. My cheeks burn hot with frustration as I try to balance on a beam cracking underneath the weight of a world that is constantly begging me to go back in the neatly wrapped package from which the world would prefer I came. I'm not someone you can put in a ******* box and label; you can't contain my shine behind blackout blinds; I will burst out of your bubble and break your glass ceilings; I will scream at the top of my lungs in a soundproof room until you HEAR me. I'm not meant to be judged by my cover, and neither are you. We are meant to be read.
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Mar 11, 2015
Mar 11, 2015 at 10:51 PM UTC
Epilogue
*White. Female. Middle Class. Heterosexual. Agnostic. Libertarian.* Yeah. That's me. That's that first layer, thin as the paper you could read it on. Just a Jane Doe, a nameless, faceless demographic. But peeling back the layers, ripping through page on page of a complicated novel, digging down into a bottomless hole to China, unravelling the intricate web of stereotypestruthsliesassumptionsprejudice and there you will find me, a colorless genderless asexual spirit whose frame is crafted and molded not with how the world chooses to see me and who "they" deem me to be; no. A guy that didn't know me well once told me that I spoke more urban than he expected, and I couldn't help but wonder why someone from an urban area couldn't speak like they were from a city, like somehow what he saw in my whitefemaleheterosexualmiddleclassagnosticlibertarian prologue forbade me from speaking in colloquials and abbreviations. Oh, I apologize, I laughed later to my friend, **law students are supposed to speak with an ostentatious vocabulary and an heir of (superfluous) arrogance.** I am rarely a prototype of what it means to be White, of what it means to be female; middle-class or not, my parents insisted at age 8 that I begin to understand the value of a dollar; my sexuality indicates little about my level of attraction to the world around me; agnostic is really just a term I put because I'm still trying to figure out whether I really believe everything I was forced to learn at Catholic school; and isn't Libertarian just a fancy word for I don't want to choose liberal or conservative? It's insulting to ingest how much is insinuated about my depth in the shallowest of pools. My cheeks burn hot with frustration as I try to balance on a beam cracking underneath the weight of a world that is constantly begging me to go back in the neatly wrapped package from which the world would prefer I came. I'm not someone you can put in a ******* box and label; you can't contain my shine behind blackout blinds; I will burst out of your bubble and break your glass ceilings; I will scream at the top of my lungs in a soundproof room until you HEAR me. I'm not meant to be judged by my cover, and neither are you. We are meant to be read.
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108
Probability lurks behind the veil of your Vintage velvety hair locks.        Why don't you let them grow Fond of the silk windwhirled fingertips        I'm falling apart like the society's white lies When I first saw the picture of your oldtime lesser plie Bohemian rascal poetic spirit Do you still believe in soulfull foolishnesses?      Where do you play your music?? Let's chill under the Flatland area's arbol    Abbreviations of your blown up ****** desires Are being revolutionized and mutinized by these Enchanting  darklings Dear dear darling deep  romantic eyes     & Suddenly I'm lost  inbetween days Do you want it!!!?
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Aug 6, 2016
Aug 6, 2016 at 1:03 PM UTC
**** Good Vitruvian Zionist
I've spent the past months In and out of different abbreviations PHP I'm getting there, halfway at least IOP all because of my scars SIB my thoughts SI my patterns OCD my creativity EDB If these cause you confusion You're in luck You're not crazy Code White For I know all the codes in the book And look where I am now Code Green
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Dec 21, 2013
Dec 21, 2013 at 8:39 PM UTC
Hospital Codes
Abbreviations are obscure. Aren't they? But I bow my head in certain familiarity with the letters: A.S.A.P. We have been here before, in yesteryear, today, and eternity. It is plumbed in the unfathomable depths of what we call "space". The diversity of experience is tangibly present. I don't know about you - but I can just about cut a slice of it and eat it, right where I stand. Talk about having your cake and eating it! That is likened to the freedom of a bird of prey, as she surfs the thermals of the Great Expanse.
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Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 3:23 PM UTC
Eclectic Compatibility
Cellulose, stalagtite, cellular device Short term abbreviations, quick talk slows the nations. English language spread so wide, Multiple meanings for them to lie and hide. Dumbing down the whole population Dumbing down the whole generation Dumb corrupt slavery nation So many frequencies in these feeble heads Which ones are they ******* with to make us do something else instead Drone ants marching all day Building, munching, texting our intelligence away.
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Dec 5, 2011
Dec 5, 2011 at 7:50 PM UTC
Drone ants
I work in special education I see people who lack The ability to See what others see Feel what others feel And suffer alongside those who suffer These people all carry with them Labels Stamped on them to make it easier For those who don't know them To have a baseline on which to proceed In the relationship These labels can be words like Autistic They can be abbreviations like OCD For Obsessive Compulsive Disorder But they are labels and as such are telling So a new one for our age SWP Stupid White People Has to be a new epidemic I see them in my news feed on Facebook Every day Lined up around ****** fried chicken stores Out in front of offices offering services for women's health Don't hate them Feel compassion and try to help them understand But with the knowledge that they don't have the capacity To do so For just like those in Special Ed Thier god made them that way
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Aug 4, 2012
Aug 4, 2012 at 10:05 AM UTC
SWP
They were ok on the screen of Breaking Bad, but one does find that they can also be used in a condescending tone. The British are quite goos at it, demeaning derogatory undertones by verbal diminishings, such as, The IRA. Full denomination please, makes one Irate. Ps. They say, The I.R.A. is a terrorist organisation Not, The Irish Republican Army is a T.O.
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Nov 8, 2018
Nov 8, 2018 at 1:33 AM UTC
Abbreviations.
Why must we destroy language with abbreviations? In my phone And on my computer screen The words lack worth Lack depth Lack the luster The way they taste on my tongue as my jaw works the syllable ILY means I LOVE YOU See also: If I had to choose between holding the world up like Atlas or holding you I’d hold you till the earth shattered. BRB means BE RIGHT BACK See also: I am not leaving forever and in a few minutes You can once again have my undivided attention *** means WHAT THE **** See also: I can’t believe you left me like that I mean WHAT THE **** BFF means BEST FRIEND FOREVER See also: I don’t care if it takes forever for you to say that Take all the time you need DTF means DOWN TO FORNICATE See also: DOWN TO **** See also: For an evening I am going to leave my best friend forever For a girl who makes me wonder What the **** I am doing with my life For the chance that she may actually one day tell me I love you But the first morning after As the breeze cools the sweat off our naked bodies As she finally wakes up Looking like the safety of bad memories I kiss her on the forehead and say I’ll be right back Only this time I won’t be
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Sep 26, 2011
Sep 26, 2011 at 3:54 PM UTC
See Also: This Poem
Abandon definitions. They are abbreviations of something abstract, abundant alive. I am an admirer, an adaptation an affiliate of things antique and alien, And who are you? An anthology of secrets An aggregate of emotion. We are an allegory of nothing and all things An affinity for the absurd An animosity for analysis.
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Mar 27, 2022
Mar 27, 2022 at 3:19 AM UTC
An introduction of us
Here I am, as real as stone, I am no dream, feel my flesh and bone. In these words I’ll present my honesty and tonight you’ll give me only silence. You’re the missing puzzle piece, and the best of me, but pushing the piece down only creates defiance. Here I am, this is no test, I am no ghost feel the beat from my chest. In these words I’ll present all I want to say but can never untie my tongue, You’re the sun, the moon, the night and the day, my oxygen to each empty, shrunken lung. Listen to me, I’m terrible at declarations, but I’m honest to a fault and love to confess. I’ll be detailing with no abbreviations everything you wish to know and nothing less. The clock has stopped, maybe it’s hand is broken, or perhaps the batteries just finally ran dry. But it’s now time out, something’s need to be spoken the who, when, what, how and most of all the why. I’ll meet your eyes and tell you only the truth, Love, you light my morning skies and bring me back to my youth. My dreams are slaves to you but sleep’s been slipping through my fingers, just please tell me what to do cause this devotion only lingers. No silver medal, no second string, I was tired of rotting on the bench. Foot’s on the pedal, I’m in the ring, my thirst’s begging for quench. I’m a light weight champion with my eyes on the prize even knocked out I’ll be back again, are you really that surprised? I’ll meet your eyes and give you all you want from me, Love, you light my morning skies and make me who I’m meant to be. Our skin will mesh in place like we were made to combine, and each inch my fingers trace is the definition of divine; I am yours and you are mine. You might be my lightbringer as you always banish the dark, palm to palm, finger meets finger, softness can still leave a mark. You light my morning skies you are the controller of the sun, pushing me to awake and rise and giving strength to get things done.
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Sep 23, 2018
Sep 23, 2018 at 12:04 AM UTC
Morning Skies
Here I am, as real as stone, I am no dream, feel my flesh and bone. In these words I’ll present my honesty and tonight you’ll give me only silence. You’re the missing puzzle piece, and the best of me, but pushing the piece down only creates defiance. Here I am, this is no test, I am no ghost feel the beat from my chest. In these words I’ll present all I want to say but can never untie my tongue, You’re the sun, the moon, the night and the day, my oxygen to each empty, shrunken lung. Listen to me, I’m terrible at declarations, but I’m honest to a fault and love to confess. I’ll be detailing with no abbreviations everything you wish to know and nothing less. The clock has stopped, maybe it’s hand is broken, or perhaps the batteries just finally ran dry. But it’s now time out, something’s need to be spoken the who, when, what, how and most of all the why. I’ll meet your eyes and tell you only the truth, Love, you light my morning skies and bring me back to my youth. My dreams are slaves to you but sleep’s been slipping through my fingers, just please tell me what to do cause this devotion only lingers. No silver medal, no second string, I was tired of rotting on the bench. Foot’s on the pedal, I’m in the ring, my thirst’s begging for quench. I’m a light weight champion with my eyes on the prize even knocked out I’ll be back again, are you really that surprised? I’ll meet your eyes and give you all you want from me, Love, you light my morning skies and make me who I’m meant to be. Our skin will mesh in place like we were made to combine, and each inch my fingers trace is the definition of divine; I am yours and you are mine. You might be my lightbringer as you always banish the dark, palm to palm, finger meets finger, softness can still leave a mark. You light my morning skies you are the controller of the sun, pushing me to awake and rise and giving strength to get things done.
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52
How is it that a mind is racing as much as it is calm, with tidal wave veins and electric pulses keeping me awake as my head sits on your shoulder How is it that your voice sinks into my skin like caramel running through my hands like sand when it’s just a sound in the air a vibration through my spine? And how is it that my bones know where to move and to bend exactly where they fit with yours, that the puzzle pieces that we are fit together better than anywhere different. How? Because with love comes pain and with pain comes change, shifts in the tides that make up our minds abbreviations of what was one and I love you, a tear on a cheek and a cry for help that just can’t be heard by the one it needs to reach. Because when a bone breaks, it heals differently, and and we learn not to do what broke it in the first place! How is it that we have magnetic fields in our blood, they were placed as opposites just to bring us back together again? I’d really love to know.
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Jan 29, 2014
Jan 29, 2014 at 4:47 PM UTC
How Is It That
Our mouths are clogged with lazy abbreviations and shortened versions of intelligence. Hands bound with all the cords needed to charge and sync and transfer data to our brains, empty of original thought. Our storage is at max capacity with the lies we're fed and the senseless information we're expected to regurgitate to earn our badge of Respected Member of Society. But you have an opportunity to do things with purpose. Don't jam your pockets with phone numbers and calendars and one hundred versions of the same picture. If your pockets are heavy, may they be weighted with the rocks you find while you walk beside the river that calms you. And if your eyes grow tired, may it be from staring into the distance at the mountains you were born to climb.
0
Oct 11, 2017
Oct 11, 2017 at 6:53 AM UTC
Pockets
In truth.. if I smiled as much as I use the smiley emoticon in a chat, or laughed as hard as when I use the various abbreviations 'lol' 'lmfao' 'lmao' and sorts, I think my life wouldn't be as ****** up as it is right now.
0
Feb 26, 2015
Feb 26, 2015 at 1:08 PM UTC
In all Honesty
what a load of wankers writing a load of **** and abbreviations of ****** - Scottish stretches of the copper entitled: two pence bought me a **** of diesel; but it did accelerate, so huh.
0
Jun 13, 2016
Jun 13, 2016 at 9:00 PM UTC
hoonesty
- Loving someone so much creates an ache in your heart. - Your chest is tightening due to the anxiety that floods your senses. - You keep trying not to let stupid words trigger you worse than they have. - You can't type to save your life because you're shaking too bad. - You're trying to cook but you end up forgetting what you're doing because you're too distracted by blind hatred. - Your brain is overwhelmed by its' malfunctioning chemicals and you're somehow still more stable than someone with less abbreviations. - You find that so funny but you know it's even actually kind of terrible. - You're so confused because you, the girl who literally said horrible vicious things to someone just so they'd hate you, so you could off yourself without guilt and so they wouldn't have to attend your funeral, thereby ending a friendship in the one of most painful and selfish ways possible, are somehow considered a good person. - You go to confession multiple times and still don't feel forgiven. - You remember your views align much more closely with Wicca than Catholicism, but you still call yourself Catholic. - You just don't understand why people are so stupid. - It would be laughable if it weren't for the fact that it's technically slander. - You can't come up with anymore feels because you're disassociating. Oops
0
Oct 17, 2016
Oct 17, 2016 at 4:30 PM UTC
That Feel When