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"abridge" poems
Meat You make me want to get high and end something. Your childhood shouldn’t be mine. You apathetic **** I know you don’t care. That’s why it hurts. You’re father was gone, Maybe that would be better. You’re here, but not for me. You’re just a huge tease. Without words you flay. Furl me in a calm. Just to show what worth you have of me. I’d rather be whipped. At least then you’d use me. Your always at my leash. If I try to pull you to me. You’re never at the end. Endless release of my constant fill. Never seems to bring benevolence. Slamming fists, yelling to a burn, Biting until blood, hurting until bruised. You’re a tick I can’t rip out. Burrowed and ***** I can rip my skin open. Dig in. You’d never be found. I’d amputate your from me. With a saw, knife, or bullet. You **** me dry, and never pass a nod. I can’t scream into another. Or cry with someone. They’re nothing to me. Cause they’re nothing to you. I have no one. Monkey see, monkey do. There’s always something absent. Turgid and deeply rooted. It hollows my chest when I feel it. I’ll never taste it. Or have the chance to waste it. Finding someone to abridge. Is frustratingly crippling. I sting just thinking about it. You knee capped me. I’ll never love. I’ll never be loved. You made me meat. You made everyone meat.
0
Mar 30, 2021
Mar 30, 2021 at 4:23 PM UTC
Meat
I am not one to placate beggars of description and hardly know where I lived besides. early on I picked up a stone and my friends passed it around after I threw it. few went braless. sex was something of a docile raccoon cub in a half globe of ice. fathers all were barked down from the same tree by the same poets. in the previous I will be refusing to enter the trailer home of my ninth grade love where for all I learn her hound might still be waiting for its ball sack to fall. I will inspect only what is already true. if in the following you do not come upon a series of blank pages just when the getting is good than my publisher was chosen too quickly and my brilliance is of less remain. as I am well versed in parental infighting I have little vote but to edit my mother and abridge my father and say they were kids looking at an ultrasound of an empty stomach other than my mother’s.
0
Dec 4, 2012
Dec 4, 2012 at 3:00 PM UTC
the silence of god
you can never under-estimate the humanity of one example, as you already exampled undermining the humanity of "you", or whatever choice of pronoun that befits your idea of superiority - as said Japan attacked, China retaliatory - Mongol kept apart - bereaving Scandinavia bereft due to the European ploy fancy; you can never under-estimate the humanity of one example, as you already exampled undermining the humanity of "you", or whatever choice of pronoun that benefits with your idea of superiority - as said Pearl Harbour: war against war rather than war against society - indeed modernity with the man in the high castle rather than i'm the king of the castle - whereby the softened consonants rather the hardened vowels - ð adjacent of j - verifiable ðe- or -dje, dje - or thus extreme English definite articulate of θη - i won't give you answers, forget it **** i don't have a lifetime or likened vein of thought - variations of f and some vowel, θ- e-i -φ - gobble up a blah... due to η we endow θ with a calibre of vowel necessary, fully... eta is like a missing diacritic on emicron, shortened, ah **** epsilon - one and the same... still involved, softening, duck-quack-and-feather cushioning, i admit it's regardless of being 90 years of age skipping rope and boa entanglement to myth in memory of a life actually lived - the stink of my great-grandmother's apartment the coal-set-piece of what could be a baking oven... the whole place was scented in ferns... i don't know why, ferns, it was just ferns... it wasn't Parisian perfumes, it, was, just, ferns... it was't the next trend of clothing, it was just fur, you watched your neighbour's television because you didn't have your own... ferns! ferns! ferns! the myth told to children about a golden fern leaf, the myth of Gutwin and the bee that stung my shin - it's so long ago, i wish it remained, all i have is America i'll never see, ever hear, ever touch, America is just an advert, it's nothing, all i have is America i'll never savour, ever feel, ever know, it's just abstract, all i'll get from America is Apache alcoholism as worth writing about rather than taking a selfie... and that's about it... otherwise i'm left with kardashian celluloid - globalisation really has made London a village and Abridge a capital.
0
Jul 5, 2016
Jul 5, 2016 at 10:57 PM UTC
ð / θη / ferns
you can never under-estimate the humanity of one example, as you already exampled undermining the humanity of "you", or whatever choice of pronoun that befits your idea of superiority - as said Japan attacked, China retaliatory - Mongol kept apart - bereaving Scandinavia bereft due to the European ploy fancy; you can never under-estimate the humanity of one example, as you already exampled undermining the humanity of "you", or whatever choice of pronoun that benefits with your idea of superiority - as said Pearl Harbour: war against war rather than war against society - indeed modernity with the man in the high castle rather than i'm the king of the castle - whereby the softened consonants rather the hardened vowels - ð adjacent of j - verifiable ðe- or -dje, dje - or thus extreme English definite articulate of θη - i won't give you answers, forget it **** i don't have a lifetime or likened vein of thought - variations of f and some vowel, θ- e-i -φ - gobble up a blah... due to η we endow θ with a calibre of vowel necessary, fully... eta is like a missing diacritic on emicron, shortened, ah **** epsilon - one and the same... still involved, softening, duck-quack-and-feather cushioning, i admit it's regardless of being 90 years of age skipping rope and boa entanglement to myth in memory of a life actually lived - the stink of my great-grandmother's apartment the coal-set-piece of what could be a baking oven... the whole place was scented in ferns... i don't know why, ferns, it was just ferns... it wasn't Parisian perfumes, it, was, just, ferns... it was't the next trend of clothing, it was just fur, you watched your neighbour's television because you didn't have your own... ferns! ferns! ferns! the myth told to children about a golden fern leaf, the myth of Gutwin and the bee that stung my shin - it's so long ago, i wish it remained, all i have is America i'll never see, ever hear, ever touch, America is just an advert, it's nothing, all i have is America i'll never savour, ever feel, ever know, it's just abstract, all i'll get from America is Apache alcoholism as worth writing about rather than taking a selfie... and that's about it... otherwise i'm left with kardashian celluloid - globalisation really has made London a village and Abridge a capital.
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50
Dearest Abstract, tell me- what color you drip when you laugh? how many languages do you tempest? when you cry, who spills deeper you, or the rain? You abridge me into a litany of mysterious elations. I asphyxiate inside your rapid joy and you drive me past my fondest entropy. I fawn at your luscious humor. Dearest Abstract, take me- outside the realm of plastic men into the hive of the eloquent- will o’ the wisp denizens who flaunts shafts of pickled delight like isolated pilgrim adventure. Dearest Abstract Allow me to dive into the furrows of your didactic faith and there consume me raw.
0
Oct 10, 2013
Oct 10, 2013 at 2:35 AM UTC
Dearest Abstract,
in the gospel to revise apocalypse one cannot abridge obsession one can however follow a man pushing his son in a wheelchair to a word and that word is amen - for the time the wheelchair wields a person it will use the person to leave the dead alone - but oh to sink into the living with such a contraption is impossible
0
Jul 8, 2013
Jul 8, 2013 at 3:33 PM UTC
small, mean, oh, book
Memories decimating the mind and man Through cascading, deteriorating mess Of sinewy synapses abridge the mind From reliving, reminiscing our Mumbai. Deciphering its puzzling frontages Until our conscious abandons what was whole.
0
Dec 28, 2015
Dec 28, 2015 at 11:55 AM UTC
Fragments
water leaves its house. the only word I have for absence is mouth. some pills, on other pills, sail. egg shells, halved as born that way bubbles. paperbacks, swollen, zippered into a mattress. doors ajar the awe of room. ark, whale, and a third in her like jonah: a loss I’d touch to abridge my hands.
0
Jul 12, 2012
Jul 12, 2012 at 11:59 AM UTC
alibi
993 We miss Her, not because We see— The Absence of an Eye— Except its Mind accompany Abridge Society As slightly as the Routes of Stars— Ourselves—asleep below— We know that their superior Eyes Include Us—as they go—
0
874
We miss Her, not because We see
*** Sending chills this tortured spine, as aches precede the worded fiction Sorted truth does rest sublime beneath the light of benediction Broken dreams of compass flair, directions cast a blinded waning Trusted roots abridge the square of all that’s lost and is remaining Washed along this fertile beach of sanded hope and history Tasting o’ thy patterned speech as common phrases come to me Desolate my cornered mind of images I pray be true Dangling the lost to find retaliation in my view Pray, oh be, as life does rattle chains of only mist to turn Laughter like some long fought battle, in amongst we tend to learn When the calling comes so random, names are lost on open seas One by one in columned tandem, drenched of hell’s insanities Take me to thy deepest haven, so that I may find the end Black as night o’ windswept raven, come to me now once again Razored claw and broken arrows, filled with such, the violence Playing through the endless narrows, falling to my own expense This, a life that's not worth living, not this day, not anymore Breaths so tethered in their giving, pull the drapes and close the door Take a seat your exits' waiting, frozen hinges squeak in time Find the map for navigating, somehow through this wicked rhyme Follow me, I know the heading, down this staircase, up the hall End those futile tears you're shedding, she's not waiting for your call Through this doorway stenciled broken, toss your heart there on the floor It is but a useless token, you'll not need it anymore You’re now privy to the meaning, whether you do understand Motioned light, this night is leaning, let it take you by the hand Now of time and missing portal, through the lens of sights unknown Nothing whispers you are mortal, for this day you have been shown***
0
Sep 9, 2016
Sep 9, 2016 at 5:46 PM UTC
Drenched of hell’s insanities
*** Sending chills this tortured spine, as aches precede the worded fiction Sorted truth does rest sublime beneath the light of benediction Broken dreams of compass flair, directions cast a blinded waning Trusted roots abridge the square of all that’s lost and is remaining Washed along this fertile beach of sanded hope and history Tasting o’ thy patterned speech as common phrases come to me Desolate my cornered mind of images I pray be true Dangling the lost to find retaliation in my view Pray, oh be, as life does rattle chains of only mist to turn Laughter like some long fought battle, in amongst we tend to learn When the calling comes so random, names are lost on open seas One by one in columned tandem, drenched of hell’s insanities Take me to thy deepest haven, so that I may find the end Black as night o’ windswept raven, come to me now once again Razored claw and broken arrows, filled with such, the violence Playing through the endless narrows, falling to my own expense This, a life that's not worth living, not this day, not anymore Breaths so tethered in their giving, pull the drapes and close the door Take a seat your exits' waiting, frozen hinges squeak in time Find the map for navigating, somehow through this wicked rhyme Follow me, I know the heading, down this staircase, up the hall End those futile tears you're shedding, she's not waiting for your call Through this doorway stenciled broken, toss your heart there on the floor It is but a useless token, you'll not need it anymore You’re now privy to the meaning, whether you do understand Motioned light, this night is leaning, let it take you by the hand Now of time and missing portal, through the lens of sights unknown Nothing whispers you are mortal, for this day you have been shown***
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57
abridge the air above the aria because basically I'm bent on balancing books center to the capacity of culpability derived from the demonic disappointments entering my ethnicity. Forget the foul fate of so greatly glazed a high horse inside an icy inescapable jail, where juveniles jinx Kublai Khan, knocking the kimono lying lazily upon the lamp. Mortifying my middle man never negating the negotiations of an open opinion perhaps a pernicious quagmire, quietly and quickly, ravenously rages, sickly. Stop spewing this title to tempt under the universe very volatile in waiting. Wonder why Xanthippe from Xian is yearning for your zenith and zeros in on your words. Pondering, wondering, if this is all for nothing. coming up asundering. their voices thundering. and I am silent. now. alone. staring into a world undone, wondering where the sun could be. And seeing, it's right behind of me And I wonder how I got where I ought to be. my food for thought is free. it's the words inside of me.
0
Apr 18, 2014
Apr 18, 2014 at 7:17 PM UTC
This poem is a failed idea
Something draws me down on earth To you Something invokes the inner compassion For you Something wakes in silent longing To be with you This sleepless spirit yearns the fuel of your caressing graze your melodic voice your anguish to abridge and Protect you from any harm O Love Return with your arms full of warmth And never leave For I'm your gravity Burying your love in my heart
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Jan 18, 2014
Jan 18, 2014 at 1:51 PM UTC
Gravity
Our Silhouettes cast upon a dawn sky, My hand in yours.... A touch from which we do not shy Lead us now to safer shores. A gap to bridge, Between strangers. Protect you now from unknown dangers. Your loneliness I will abridge. One half is mine The other of your design. Piece together our own fantasy In center, you and me. In sync with this beat Our bodies now meet. Support each other Love no other. Uplift you Prove this is true Veiled in white Your beauty fills my sight I do, I do, I need to be with you Under steeple stands Couple with clasped hands Waiting to be bound Just as we were found Wanting of love, Lips now meet. A babe's new cries this world does greet. Held in mothers arms. Keep her free from all kinds of harm. Called to serve Steel your nerve On desert sands Guns replace your lover's hands In the shade of palms Your world weary palms Fall to the Earth A soul free'd from its berth Half a world away What can she say A mothers loss, Flowers on a lonely cross. Daughters hands where his did hold. Left without a father Thoughts do bother... Where is father?
0
Mar 6, 2014
Mar 6, 2014 at 2:19 PM UTC
Our Silhouettes
I can pour tears, I can raise mountains, I can draw the forces, but I could keep you, For you were my pride and hero, My fortress and Star, Even do you left abridge the year, I still miss you. Everyday I close my eyes  I still see you, I still dream of your words, You never stop pushing me, I felt you had the world, I felt you had prime for time, I still stand to you the general, A legend with a thousand army, You live on in my heart, I love you,even as you watch over me, I am joyed for you kept your home glittering, I am proud of your accomplishments, I am doomed to succeed, You live on my general..
0
Dec 22, 2019
Dec 22, 2019 at 11:40 AM UTC
My Father,My Hero
Goddess, such a relegating term But then again, How do you abridge someone Who embodies universes inside? How do I, a mere wanderer, who is in awe of your luminous wit Who has traversed her terrains, Strolled from the glacier Though her well carved volcanoes Down to her meadows where, Her majestic rivers meet and form conflux. Where her flower continuesly disperse The elixir of eternal life, When it is kindled by the desire. How could i, a mere nomad Who continouesly crave this water of life Who is always seeking this fountain, do you justice, And encapsulate you, the infinite beauty, In one word, Except for the relegating term Goddess, That my petty mind could come up with.
0
Nov 28, 2018
Nov 28, 2018 at 11:19 AM UTC
Goddess
(-) church of intermission. church of the rolled-away church my fever follows. church of it ain’t a baby until it spits. church of the lawnmower left running. of the space you give the grieving horse. church of you when you die in my sleep. of musical suicides. church of the disinfected high chair. of the false bruise. of how to become a balloon in the church of touch. (-) in the library’s dream, the abortion clinic is no bigger than a fingerprint. (-) this is me praying for a photo of my father’s last meal. me praying to have the allergic reaction my mother faked. for proof of animal suicide. a mirror for my toys. dirt for my brother. (-) and we touch to abridge doom in the bed of a headless man. and we struggle to hear a father verbatim. and we ask in a fierce wind a phone booth to please be a fireplace. and a starfish consoles a handprint.
0
Apr 9, 2016
Apr 9, 2016 at 10:19 PM UTC
(----)
Backspace           Remove               Cut out               Obliterate Expun Cancel                 Omit                   Efface Demolish Terminate Revoke           Eradicate Blot out Negate Extinguish Undo Disengage Erase Abridge Repudiate Void Retract Abrogate What is our purpose here, other than to regret things we cannot delete?
0
Mar 13, 2018
Mar 13, 2018 at 2:39 PM UTC
Delete
Death strikes twice, the first, when coursing lifeblood stops Upon the second, the spoken name of thine be lost, And time between should not be briefed, But scalpel blade and nimble hands within, abridge, Of all potential generations be stole, a thiefed, No more a babe be at my tender breast, Boneless mouth be torn away, a burned bridge Alas! The conduit be severed full, The songbirds sing upon in their nest Above their chicks, but never I, for I am null The blessed Lord up above, import remembrance ‘Though time ‘twixt the events become short So be me, as long as mouths doth speak Death creeps aforth, upon, and scared, retreats.
0
Mar 12, 2017
Mar 12, 2017 at 9:01 PM UTC
Sterile
Oh Dark'N'shine, Spaces abridge we two, Yet, every day and night, I see your face Because the sky and star Remind me of you always. Oh Dark'N'shine, Your smiles are healing spell Your breath is energy Your voice is the buoy of life Your touch is magical And your love is happiness Oh Dark'N'shine, Let me lost my fingers In the spaces of yours Let me lost my arms Around your shoulder Let us find our tongues Lost in our mouths Oh Dark'N'shine, Let your heart beat Rhyme with mine. Let our cold limbs Be warm from hugs Let your face smile To these words And Let my Heart Be entwined in agape bloom. Poet: Alabi Oluwatimilehin BabyLawyer
0
Jun 12, 2016
Jun 12, 2016 at 9:50 AM UTC
OH DARK'N'SHINE
from [shuteye in the land of the sacred commoner] ~ it’s all in your head. the newborn we had on a mountaintop. the word it knew from memory. its hand that stuck to everything but the dog our dog ate. the cold our dog died from. the tent we called aquarium. that we filled with diapers. that was never full. ~ when asked I say I see on the floor of a mudhut a *** toy having a seizure. I kiss the feet you’re the future of. ~ church of intermission. church of the rolled-away church my fever follows. church of it ain’t a baby until it spits. church of the lawnmower left running. of the space you give the grieving horse. church of you when you die in my sleep. of musical suicides. church of the disinfected high chair. of the false bruise. of how to become a balloon in the church of touch. ~ and we touch to abridge doom in the bed of a headless man. and we struggle to hear a father verbatim. and we ask in a fierce wind a phone booth to please be a fireplace. and a starfish consoles a handprint. ~ (all print books on Lulu are 25% off thru July 11th with coupon code of LULU25)
0
Jul 6, 2016
Jul 6, 2016 at 11:29 AM UTC
{from}
You try hard, You hit hard. You set the trump And show your card. You abridge your words And aggrandize your actions, You try to solve the problem And ameliorate your wrong reactions. Never try to escape a situation, As it is the only time to test your innovation. Don't be afraid of being caught, It's life and its always worth giving a shot. The journey is unending and adamant. No doubt indeed. But you should give it your best And let yourself sweat and bleed. So coalesce all your efforts, Kick out every ambiguous thought. As this life is worth taking the risk, So, let's give it a shot!
0
Sep 14, 2017
Sep 14, 2017 at 4:57 AM UTC
THE NEVER ENDING STORY