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"accelerated" poems
I am not what I used to be So now in the shadow of unspoken events Everything whimsical is leaving Words fill my head, they fragment like artillery shells they tare through it forcing irreparable damage. Time has accelerated Born out of the absence of light Shaped by my own hands Justly worthy to be referenced and adored I re-encounter what my elation briefly with held The thirst for the dangerous Obliterate the incomprehensible crowding thoughts The stampede within my head The mayhem of the many visions Lock them down, all that fracture within my head Inexplicable wanderings of mindful musings Spontaneous perceptions Shadow of foe Encircling their fears with distractions Pulsing in endless repetitions I am the one whose throat is stripped bare. I am the one who has not spoken in years A distant moon to sense © Crystal Erickson
0
Dec 27, 2014
Dec 27, 2014 at 11:35 AM UTC
Collective Visualization
*She was costly Bordeaux   he was recycled biker leather, her classic affluent beauty   yearned for motorcycle thrills, she lifted him up a grade      he brought her down to street level,   they fused at steamy rush hours    under trafficked high ways,     pursuant to reckless merging                    reality's intersections accelerated                crashing expedited speed limits,        would never again drive   mid smoothly paved junctures              at the standard rate of normal*
0
Jul 6, 2015
Jul 6, 2015 at 12:12 PM UTC
Bordeaux & Leather
As one chosen by God, certain attributes are demonstrated with loving regularity; despite one’s beliefs, showing kindness requires a daring of spiritual temerity. For The Lord expects His children to give Love towards people without expectations; know that being tenderhearted, helps one to naturally extend actions of compassion. Don’t think lightly, about the richness of kindness, it may one lead to repentance; its warm embrace softens the heart, while Salvation overrides Death’s life sentence. The merit of kindness can’t be overstated; being accepting, forgiving without judgment means not rigidly imposing beliefs on others. As His children, one should make investments in the individualized development of others. With the “Fruit of The Holy Spirit”, growth and maturation can be properly accelerated when applying by the principle of God’s oath to “humbly walk in Love” (as He requires). Kindness is patient, when paired with respect, justice, long-suffering and unconditional Love; the value of kindness, no one should neglect. . . . Author notes Inspired by: Eph 4:32; Gal 5:22-23; Heb 6:10; Rom 2:4; Luke 6:35; Col 3:12; Prov 3:3; Mica 6:8 Learn more about me and my poetry at: http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2016, All rights reserved.
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May 15, 2016
May 15, 2016 at 4:12 PM UTC
Poem: The Value of Kindness
#*Multitudes will be liberated by that recognition; and although multitudes obtain liberation in that manner, the number of sentient beings being great, evil karma powerful, obscurations dense, propensities o too long standing, the Wheel of Ignorance and Illusion becometh neither exhausted nor accelerated*.            The Tibetan Book of the Dead           translation:  Lāma Kazi Dawa-Samdup Free Tibet your sticker tells me… Yes, I think, perhaps I should – and the noble thought compels me, uninformed, half-understood. Will their freedom help my Karma? Upgrade my reincarnation? (Soul who could not dare to harm a fly… much less a Buddhist nation.) Not to justify aggression by the ever-brutal Commies, let us grant no glib concession to the Maoists – or their mommies. Slogans echo in the void, shining in bardos of the dead; stopped by the light, I am annoyed impatient for the change from red. A bumper crop of human woe beams forth a mandate to my brain while red Dakinis circle slow in Buddhist hells of karmic pain. The eastern concepts here diverge and bow before brutality. They make this driver long to merge with incorporeality. Then I glimpse a monkish fellow swathed in saffron, calmly seated. His, the cloud-borne sage’s pillow; mine the traffic; stalled, defeated. In his gaze of stern displeasure I perceive the orient stars calculating man’s mismeasure trapped, exhausted, among the cars. Flanked by Spirits wreathed in fire he extends an accusing hand: Western slave of base desire: come and  liberate my land !” I meditate before the stop light: am I ready for the task ? Should I just refuse it outright Can’t it be someone else ?  I ask… Must I free this mountain nation from the Buddha, demons and Reds? Shall your sticker’s declaration shatter the yoke and raise their heads ? Somebody ought to free Tibet, and heed this Himalayan cry. Maybe we should get upset… The red light changes. Cars pass by, predestined for benign events and unconcerned for persecution; oblivious to dissidents awaiting execution.
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Dec 14, 2015
Dec 14, 2015 at 9:14 PM UTC
Exhausted Karma
#*Multitudes will be liberated by that recognition; and although multitudes obtain liberation in that manner, the number of sentient beings being great, evil karma powerful, obscurations dense, propensities o too long standing, the Wheel of Ignorance and Illusion becometh neither exhausted nor accelerated*.            The Tibetan Book of the Dead           translation:  Lāma Kazi Dawa-Samdup Free Tibet your sticker tells me… Yes, I think, perhaps I should – and the noble thought compels me, uninformed, half-understood. Will their freedom help my Karma? Upgrade my reincarnation? (Soul who could not dare to harm a fly… much less a Buddhist nation.) Not to justify aggression by the ever-brutal Commies, let us grant no glib concession to the Maoists – or their mommies. Slogans echo in the void, shining in bardos of the dead; stopped by the light, I am annoyed impatient for the change from red. A bumper crop of human woe beams forth a mandate to my brain while red Dakinis circle slow in Buddhist hells of karmic pain. The eastern concepts here diverge and bow before brutality. They make this driver long to merge with incorporeality. Then I glimpse a monkish fellow swathed in saffron, calmly seated. His, the cloud-borne sage’s pillow; mine the traffic; stalled, defeated. In his gaze of stern displeasure I perceive the orient stars calculating man’s mismeasure trapped, exhausted, among the cars. Flanked by Spirits wreathed in fire he extends an accusing hand: Western slave of base desire: come and  liberate my land !” I meditate before the stop light: am I ready for the task ? Should I just refuse it outright Can’t it be someone else ?  I ask… Must I free this mountain nation from the Buddha, demons and Reds? Shall your sticker’s declaration shatter the yoke and raise their heads ? Somebody ought to free Tibet, and heed this Himalayan cry. Maybe we should get upset… The red light changes. Cars pass by, predestined for benign events and unconcerned for persecution; oblivious to dissidents awaiting execution.
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59
Waking breath ghostly frozen, clang of pot-belly stove opening, cedar crackles good morning, sap sizzles, pops, melting. Warmth finds children sleeping, humid air, mouth-breathing. Smell of boy sweat and feet, young women ripely sweet. Cats purring, stirring, padding quiet down stairs, weave meowing through mom's legs. Dented percolator burbles better days, snap of toast burned haze, molten mush bubbles burst, fade. Birds early on the highway Paradise-seeking, time, flash-burned, fleeting. Cobalt jay mockingly complains, chickadee sings his own name, coyote wails, thin and plain. Children rise, sleep in their eyes, squabble over bathroom prize, eldest wins, click, locks herself in. Hurry, hurry the bus is coming, ancient driver, annoyed and honking. Brown-bag lunches crinkled running, feet slapping, seats squeaking, lungs hot and bursting. Ride the dawn breaking, hearts aching for more than this, rural bliss. Stop sign flashes caution, young lovers in the back seat, bodies in motion. Stop, start, sway on down the highway. Engine mimics hot blood lust, accelerated diesel rush, nothing can stop us. You grab my knee - young, carefree. Brakes sigh and hiss, sneak one last kiss. You mouth - meet me later, we'll sneak out, rush to a future we haven't got, ready or not. The old road at dusk, frog song accompanies us, bike wheels on the asphalt hum, forbidden moonlight run. Feel your heartbeat on my spine, frantic drumming matching mine. Horned owl hoots, forlorn and bleak, a premonition we refuse to heed, reckless with need. In the clearing young love begins, forget-me-knots on burning skin.
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Apr 19, 2016
Apr 19, 2016 at 9:44 AM UTC
Forget-Me-Knots
Waking breath ghostly frozen, clang of pot-belly stove opening, cedar crackles good morning, sap sizzles, pops, melting. Warmth finds children sleeping, humid air, mouth-breathing. Smell of boy sweat and feet, young women ripely sweet. Cats purring, stirring, padding quiet down stairs, weave meowing through mom's legs. Dented percolator burbles better days, snap of toast burned haze, molten mush bubbles burst, fade. Birds early on the highway Paradise-seeking, time, flash-burned, fleeting. Cobalt jay mockingly complains, chickadee sings his own name, coyote wails, thin and plain. Children rise, sleep in their eyes, squabble over bathroom prize, eldest wins, click, locks herself in. Hurry, hurry the bus is coming, ancient driver, annoyed and honking. Brown-bag lunches crinkled running, feet slapping, seats squeaking, lungs hot and bursting. Ride the dawn breaking, hearts aching for more than this, rural bliss. Stop sign flashes caution, young lovers in the back seat, bodies in motion. Stop, start, sway on down the highway. Engine mimics hot blood lust, accelerated diesel rush, nothing can stop us. You grab my knee - young, carefree. Brakes sigh and hiss, sneak one last kiss. You mouth - meet me later, we'll sneak out, rush to a future we haven't got, ready or not. The old road at dusk, frog song accompanies us, bike wheels on the asphalt hum, forbidden moonlight run. Feel your heartbeat on my spine, frantic drumming matching mine. Horned owl hoots, forlorn and bleak, a premonition we refuse to heed, reckless with need. In the clearing young love begins, forget-me-knots on burning skin.
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5
I love you my child I don't know how to help you anymore You continue to die your slow death It's painful for us both To watch you killing yourself with no way to stop To see you so all alone Living your life from hell Watching you living with demons I curse the devil and his minions To watch you convice yourself to give up and die It kills me inside I love you child I've always loved you and always will I don't think you're long for this earth The slow mental and physical deterioration has accelerated The doctors give you one short year I cry for the hurt in your heart I cry for the torture in your soul I cry for the pain in your unhealthy body I cry because you think I don't love you Don't give up and die my little one I physically ache for loving and losing you Living a life I would never have chosen for you I love you my child Please see a glimpse of the light in my soul Let it guide you to peace Non reversible is your disease I'm tormented with the fear of losing you I can't watch anymore I can't see you do this to yourself Don't die my sweet little girl Don't leave me behind My love for you is insurmountable Your love for yourself is long gone Let's love eachother for the time you have left I love you more than theses mere words express I love you more than my own life Don't cry little one for I am here
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Sep 1, 2013
Sep 1, 2013 at 12:35 PM UTC
Dont Leave Me Behind
Everything was always fine when I was driving below the speed limit, in control, safe. you asked to take the wheel without waiting for an answer, accelerated. not yielding, speeding on sharp turns winding down the narrow path caution lights and stop signs wouldn't slow your pace. you made illegal "U" turns and took road detours, That I was very much against you scratched, the paint. hit the curb, and bit the steering wheel... there had never been any construction on my road... until now. there was a traffic jam and you finally saw the redlight but you were already finished you turned the engine off we sat in silence.
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Sep 2, 2014
Sep 2, 2014 at 1:29 PM UTC
The Day I Let You Drive
Paramedic 1: "He's losing so much blood." Paramedic 2: "It's a miracle if he can make it past this." *Saturday night, and I'm in the back of an ambulance, But not in soul, just in body, oh and in the company of so many wires, I can't tell where they end and where I begin, But the paramedics say there was a tragic accident and some flying tires. We reach the ER, my stretcher is flying on the white tiles, And soon enough I'm greeted by more wires than I can count, They're saying that they want to hear my heart, So I'm opened up past layers of tissues and my heartbeat is playing aloud. I'm somewhere in a circus, learning how to walk on a tightrope, One arm on the verge of life, the other on the verge on death, And my feet are stronger than they've ever been, I'm not afraid of the fall, I'm afraid they'll see the mark I've had since birth. And they do, I see it in the face of those people wearing white scrubs, Their faces become the color of their operating room attire, They don't know what to do with me, As they come to realize what's got me here is not the flying tires. They see my heart, a land that is home to no one, Yet a massacre is taking place between the northerns and the southerns, A border holding together the mismatched territories, But there is no compromising between two armies this stubborn. Each side wanting to flood the other, wanting to conquer, And the small canal that was once an uncharted place of peace, Is now holding a rowing contest to the mind of the victim - me - Who will reach it first and incorporate their power with claws and teeth...? It was the time to surrender, ending all attempts at making amends, And watch cannibals sailing in rivers of blood, They think each accelerated beat is a new victory, Yet it was a far away cry from it, it was a new tear, a new cut. And when each side invades the other, they claim it as their own, But they are only emigrants thinking they can reconstruct a desert, It was only a land of chaos, they themselves have caused, Where was once life flowing in veins, is now where resources are tethered. And with no winner, the end approached, The curtains already sweeping the ground, Doctors wiping sweat from their foreheads, Letting the hospital gown cover the battleground.* Paramedic 2: "Maybe there's a wife we can call, to you know ... deliver the news..." Paramedic 1: "It appears, he just went out for a drive in the middle of the night, with no phone or ID... not even his driver's license..." Paramedic 2: "Maybe it wasn't even his car..." THE END
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May 22, 2016
May 22, 2016 at 11:27 AM UTC
Internal Bleeding
Paramedic 1: "He's losing so much blood." Paramedic 2: "It's a miracle if he can make it past this." *Saturday night, and I'm in the back of an ambulance, But not in soul, just in body, oh and in the company of so many wires, I can't tell where they end and where I begin, But the paramedics say there was a tragic accident and some flying tires. We reach the ER, my stretcher is flying on the white tiles, And soon enough I'm greeted by more wires than I can count, They're saying that they want to hear my heart, So I'm opened up past layers of tissues and my heartbeat is playing aloud. I'm somewhere in a circus, learning how to walk on a tightrope, One arm on the verge of life, the other on the verge on death, And my feet are stronger than they've ever been, I'm not afraid of the fall, I'm afraid they'll see the mark I've had since birth. And they do, I see it in the face of those people wearing white scrubs, Their faces become the color of their operating room attire, They don't know what to do with me, As they come to realize what's got me here is not the flying tires. They see my heart, a land that is home to no one, Yet a massacre is taking place between the northerns and the southerns, A border holding together the mismatched territories, But there is no compromising between two armies this stubborn. Each side wanting to flood the other, wanting to conquer, And the small canal that was once an uncharted place of peace, Is now holding a rowing contest to the mind of the victim - me - Who will reach it first and incorporate their power with claws and teeth...? It was the time to surrender, ending all attempts at making amends, And watch cannibals sailing in rivers of blood, They think each accelerated beat is a new victory, Yet it was a far away cry from it, it was a new tear, a new cut. And when each side invades the other, they claim it as their own, But they are only emigrants thinking they can reconstruct a desert, It was only a land of chaos, they themselves have caused, Where was once life flowing in veins, is now where resources are tethered. And with no winner, the end approached, The curtains already sweeping the ground, Doctors wiping sweat from their foreheads, Letting the hospital gown cover the battleground.* Paramedic 2: "Maybe there's a wife we can call, to you know ... deliver the news..." Paramedic 1: "It appears, he just went out for a drive in the middle of the night, with no phone or ID... not even his driver's license..." Paramedic 2: "Maybe it wasn't even his car..." THE END
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47
You bite my lips I grip your hips Scarred in unification, We invite others to do it like this Hot beads of sweat With my dark silhouette Like the taste? Now watch my face Moist eyes and parted lips Induces an accelerated pace Objects of pure desire Fornication can ignite a fire Soft or mean, This realm for us outperforms Any late-night screen Your favourite dish And you, my love? My biggest fetish.
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Nov 26, 2018
Nov 26, 2018 at 6:38 PM UTC
Fetish
GREED GREED GREED GREED THAT MAKES THE WORLD GO DOWN GOING DOWN ON A WASHINGTON PHALLUS GOING DOWN WITH THE PAPER PALACE IN FLAMES GOING DOWN LIKE PLANES INTO BUILDINGS THAT STAND FOR THE MAN WHO HAS NO FACE BUT HAS BOTH HANDS IN YOUR POCKETS GOING DOWN LIKE HIS PLANS TO OWN THE HUMAN RACE GOING DOWN AT AN ACCELERATED PACE GOING DOWN LIKE A CHEERLEADER BENEATH THE BLEACHERS DOING HER PART FOR THE TEAM MORALE GOING DOWN GOING DOWN LIKE YOUR DREAMS GOING DOWN AND GETTING ****** GOING DOWN GETTING ****** BY THE MAN BUT YOU’RE NOT GAY WAITING FOR THE DAY YOU DIE AND ARE REBORN TO RECLAIM YOUR VIRGINITY WAITING FOR THE DAY YOU RECLAIM YOUR DIGNITY WAITING FOR THE DAY THE MAN WILL TAKE PITY WAITING FOR THE DAY YOU GET OUT OF THIS CITY WAITING FOR THE DAY IT ALL GOES DOWN GOING DOWN ON THE MAN WITH THE TASTE OF SALINE YOUR TEARS ON HIS **** GOING DOWN ON UNCLE SAM WHILE GETTING ****** BY UNCLE RICH TICK THERE IS NO TOCK IT’S MIDNIGHT AND WE FORGOT TO WIND THE CLOCK
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Aug 2, 2013
Aug 2, 2013 at 1:05 AM UTC
GREED GREED GREED
Nurture those lovely creatures love breeds.. Two moving liquid eyes, kept admiring you both contented, happiness-drunk -a delicate filigree dragonfly, when you both were lost, in the warmth of love,new found, melting and flowing, together in the entwined  patterns of hearts. Like a  rainbow hued butterfly,a guest that suddenly appears announcing, days of warmth, mirth and laughter, something was flitting like a flash, around you fluttering it's silver wings, making you go crazy with desire, already enamored with each other beyond even your comprehension! In the pitch black screen of night sky fireflies dancing in formations never seen, reflected in your wondering eyes, drawing  sketches, that look like like  electric maps love create, with accelerated heart beats. Do you realize what alchemy of hearts makes it possible for love to transform in such a manner? Love in it's moments ethereal, clearly reflect, the true mind of nature, do you care to take note? Don't ever **** those delicate creatures, that appear, love in it's deepest yearnings, breeds and keeps.
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Jun 1, 2016
Jun 1, 2016 at 7:39 AM UTC
Nurture those lovely creatures love breeds.
I stand before you, not as an expert, but as a concerned citizen. One of the four hundred thousand people who marched in the streets of New York on Sunday and the billions of others around the world who want to solve our climate crisis. As a poet, I pretend for a living. I play fictitious characters often solving fictitious problems. I believe that mankind has looked at climate change in that same way; as if it were a fiction. As if pretending that climate change wasn’t real would somehow make it go away. But I think we all know better than that now. Every week we’re seeing new and undeniable climate events, evidence that accelerated climate change is here, right now. Droughts are intensifying, our ocean’s are acidifying, with methane plumes rising up from the ocean floor. We are seeing extreme weather events and the west Antarctic and Greenland ice sheets melting at unprecedented rates decades ahead of scientific projections. The scientific community knows it. Industry knows it. Governments know it. Even the United States military knows it. The chief of the US navy’s Pacific command, Admiral Samuel Locklear recently said that climate change is our single greatest security threat. My friends, this body, perhaps more than any other gathering in human history now faces this difficult but achievable task. You can make history or you will be vilified by it. To be clear, this is not about just telling people to change lightbulbs or to buy a hybrid car. This disaster has grown beyond the choices that individuals make. This is now about our industries and our governments around the world taking decisive large-scale action. We need to put a price tag on carbon emissions and eliminate government subsidies for all oil, coal, and gas companies. We need to end the free ride that industrial polluters have been given in the name of a free market economy. They do not deserve our tax dollars, they deserve our scrutiny. For the economy itself will die if our ecosystems collapse. This is not a partisan debate, it is a human one. Clean air and a livable climate area inalienable human rights and solving this crisis is not just a question of politics. It is a question of our own survival. But now it is your turn. The time to answer humankind’s greatest challenge, is now. We beg of you to face it with courage and honesty. Thank you
0
Sep 25, 2014
Sep 25, 2014 at 6:51 AM UTC
Poets of the World Unite
I stand before you, not as an expert, but as a concerned citizen. One of the four hundred thousand people who marched in the streets of New York on Sunday and the billions of others around the world who want to solve our climate crisis. As a poet, I pretend for a living. I play fictitious characters often solving fictitious problems. I believe that mankind has looked at climate change in that same way; as if it were a fiction. As if pretending that climate change wasn’t real would somehow make it go away. But I think we all know better than that now. Every week we’re seeing new and undeniable climate events, evidence that accelerated climate change is here, right now. Droughts are intensifying, our ocean’s are acidifying, with methane plumes rising up from the ocean floor. We are seeing extreme weather events and the west Antarctic and Greenland ice sheets melting at unprecedented rates decades ahead of scientific projections. The scientific community knows it. Industry knows it. Governments know it. Even the United States military knows it. The chief of the US navy’s Pacific command, Admiral Samuel Locklear recently said that climate change is our single greatest security threat. My friends, this body, perhaps more than any other gathering in human history now faces this difficult but achievable task. You can make history or you will be vilified by it. To be clear, this is not about just telling people to change lightbulbs or to buy a hybrid car. This disaster has grown beyond the choices that individuals make. This is now about our industries and our governments around the world taking decisive large-scale action. We need to put a price tag on carbon emissions and eliminate government subsidies for all oil, coal, and gas companies. We need to end the free ride that industrial polluters have been given in the name of a free market economy. They do not deserve our tax dollars, they deserve our scrutiny. For the economy itself will die if our ecosystems collapse. This is not a partisan debate, it is a human one. Clean air and a livable climate area inalienable human rights and solving this crisis is not just a question of politics. It is a question of our own survival. But now it is your turn. The time to answer humankind’s greatest challenge, is now. We beg of you to face it with courage and honesty. Thank you
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11
Fixating on the emotions you provided But only for a second in time Before you had me falling between the cracks With a touch of your hand Moments pass at accelerated speeds My heart flutters. Vibrations rush through my perplexed mentality A loss of affection transpires Beneath this dark facade suppressing my energy A troglodytic character exposed The inception of just another fantasy you implemented Like any other dream I envisioned A borderline ecstasy of pleasure.
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Jan 9, 2014
Jan 9, 2014 at 2:31 AM UTC
I couldn't stop
You told me once I was an anchor for your soul, and I thought it poetry That I would keep you steady and safe in the seas of everyday And be forever held against your starboard side. But how useful is an anchor to a vagabond? It binds him to his place when he desires anything but to be stationary And holds him back and burdens him as he goes about his daily life. How useful is an anchor to a sinking ship? Already slipping past the surface, the extra weight serving not a purpose But to drag it to demise at a more accelerated rate. How useful is an anchor to an aging sailor? It only serves to remind him of ferocious storms, and perished comrades, And countless years he spent and lost at sea. How useful is an anchor to a roaming heart? And of what benefit am I to you?
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Jan 26, 2014
Jan 26, 2014 at 1:38 AM UTC
Anchor
Death once spoke to me through a streetlight that solely flickered rushing red. Along with the drops of acid dancing within the outlines of a thread. One pedal to accelerate an already accelerated mind, One pedal to reverse a raucous reaction, Mirrors plugged to my beating flesh, pulsating time, Wheels swirling off it's axis, succumbing to the lost traction. Closing eyelid after eyelid, fate selected a pedal, Roaring of both synapses and electricity, Swerving across the bumps of light that model, Leaving stones to break like my bones, collapsing entirely, goes my entity. Water crept into my lungs. Water replaced my tears. Water ****** my blood. He said to me, "You'll smell a smell you've never smelled before, and sense a sensation worth dying for." So with one last cell, and with one last breath, I smelled and sensed the defiled Death.
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Jun 18, 2013
Jun 18, 2013 at 2:37 AM UTC
Eyelid After Eyelid
we all remember where we were watching the towers burn and fall knowing that things would never be the same at all disbelief at first, or had an action movie slipped into the news no, it was real and then twenty years of vengeful repercussion of military posturing of suffering for many we watched the baddies being painted good and evil being redefined virtue confused impotence and power conflated lies and spin consecrated truth alternated idiot rich guys promoted tax for the poor promulgated democracy desecrated climate destruction accelerated by denialist complacency inequality more concentrated goodness and morality infiltrated by posturing political pus weasels venal vultures of self interest grasping for short term dominance and then .. complacency pervaded as absurdity was accepted as our new state of normal and the height of compassion was owning a dog and tut tutting as refugees marched across our news screens and now we bemoan being isolated from being contaminated we are mostly relegated to stay in our mansions while dinner is contemplated have you been vaccinated?
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Sep 11, 2021
Sep 11, 2021 at 4:32 AM UTC
when the world changed ...
Sand-crusted catacombs of dismembered dreams Settle beside memories of the child who grew up In rocky Harpswell, Maine. Not many beaches, Only a foggy stretch beyond Morse Mountain -- But I used to stand ankle-deep In the water, wait until my toes sank Into crystalized Earth And bubbles from Littleneck clams. I’d stand there until goosebumps spread upon My blanched legs, rising up, up, like the artificial hills Of Maya Lin’s Storm King Wavefield. Now, when I lie alone, Misplaced inside a vacant Manhattan studio, I surrender to sirens and accelerated lives. Peace comes in painting – thick oil, Violet and claret on stretched canvas, Depictions of neon signs and cityscapes, Cheap t-shirt stands on street corners, And 24-hour coffee shops with “specialty” Blends in little white travel mugs – selling To flocks of strangers, strutting like pigeons on cement Sidewalks, pretending they belong.
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Sep 20, 2014
Sep 20, 2014 at 10:50 AM UTC
The Simplicity of Whitecaps
While I was sitting in the passenger seat watching you drive my car, I held my breath. I was all too familiar with your sweet addiction to danger. I felt the pleasure seep through your skin as you accelerated the speed beyond the limit. I felt the waves of excitement ripple off of you with each sharp turn. Every now and again you would glance in my direction and see paralyzed fear on my face. You kept driving. You knew I trusted you. My life was completely out of my control; all my power rested within the firm grip of your hands and the smooth glide of your feet. All the direction I could ever find was within the road you mapped of me in your eyes. You slowed down long enough for me to think you realized what you were doing to me. I closed my eyes, exhaled, and began to relax. I trusted you. The next moment came with a shift in paradigm. Like a tsunami wave that crushed my lungs and yanked the atmosphere from around me I froze in fear as you accelerated to the maximum speed within a second. I felt the control of my car slip from your hands as you tightly gripped the steering wheel. Gasping, I looked into the reflection of myself in your eyes. The slim moment I doubted your omnipotent control evaporated within the fire deep in your gaze. With that sly smirk in your eyes I knew you were finally pleased. You finally confirmed complete control over me. You had been rewriting my internal software, replacing every fiber of my will with complete dependence on your touch. As the world finally returned to me and I knew where I was, I relaxed again. However, this time, when I looked over at the driver's seat you were gone.
0
Aug 5, 2013
Aug 5, 2013 at 4:51 PM UTC
My Driver's Seat
While I was sitting in the passenger seat watching you drive my car, I held my breath. I was all too familiar with your sweet addiction to danger. I felt the pleasure seep through your skin as you accelerated the speed beyond the limit. I felt the waves of excitement ripple off of you with each sharp turn. Every now and again you would glance in my direction and see paralyzed fear on my face. You kept driving. You knew I trusted you. My life was completely out of my control; all my power rested within the firm grip of your hands and the smooth glide of your feet. All the direction I could ever find was within the road you mapped of me in your eyes. You slowed down long enough for me to think you realized what you were doing to me. I closed my eyes, exhaled, and began to relax. I trusted you. The next moment came with a shift in paradigm. Like a tsunami wave that crushed my lungs and yanked the atmosphere from around me I froze in fear as you accelerated to the maximum speed within a second. I felt the control of my car slip from your hands as you tightly gripped the steering wheel. Gasping, I looked into the reflection of myself in your eyes. The slim moment I doubted your omnipotent control evaporated within the fire deep in your gaze. With that sly smirk in your eyes I knew you were finally pleased. You finally confirmed complete control over me. You had been rewriting my internal software, replacing every fiber of my will with complete dependence on your touch. As the world finally returned to me and I knew where I was, I relaxed again. However, this time, when I looked over at the driver's seat you were gone.
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1
Before kids we drove a blue Chevy Corvair. No seat belts (of course), so you could slide next to me in the bench seat. We rolled the windows down to escape the gas fumes and the staggering smell of oil. But oh the sound of the engine roaring behind us in the trunk as we accelerated close together, the streetlights all turning green. We leaned into loose curves, navigating to the straightaway where we would open up and fly like lovers from some Springsteen song until the road became nothing and the car disappeared and it was just you and me hurtling to this place, suspended by our own combustion, carried by time, married by velocity.
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Dec 9, 2016
Dec 9, 2016 at 3:17 PM UTC
Unsafe at Any Speed
Once felt in the lonely, identical corridors of hotels, hostels, hallways of homeless flatblocks; The urge, The urge to move the moment, Move the momentum of the meandering life From work to shop to sleep to work to shop to sleep, Supplanted by the unattainable mental utopia, Supplanted by delusions in the colour of dreams, Supplanted by 10,000 madman notes on the nature of daylight, Tender sounds accelerated into screams, Lost in the pylon forest, Trapped by Tendonitis, Tinnitus, and terrestrial TV, Stifling the electoral laugh, Deafened by D-beat, Dubstep, and Democratic conventions, Bled to death in Bosnia, Died in Damascus, Executed in Entebbe, Murdered in Mogadishu, Born in Berlin, Lived in London, Carried in Copenhagen, And again in Amsterdam, Until tomorrow’s endless oceans Forecast nothing of their waves, Until tomorrow’s endless oceans Safely say their real names.
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Aug 10, 2016
Aug 10, 2016 at 10:37 AM UTC
Supplanted Oceans
I have some good memories of you From when I was younger. I remember the times You'd bring me fishing, You taught me how to cast. I'd always hoped to catch A fish as big as a shark. I remember how you'd Always make me laugh. Especially when you'd start Laughing really hard because Your laugh is contagious. I remember being called "Daddy's little girl" because I'd always wanna be with you. And I remember wanting to go to The bar with you when you went. The bar, Where you'd go to drink And occasionally smoke cigarettes with friends. I didn't understand it back then. But now, I have new memories of you. I remember the times where I was terrified to die While you were behind the wheel. When you accelerated faster on the highway, I'd laugh in fear as I held in the tears And prayed to God to get home safe. Then you'd swerve. Sometimes purposely for fun, Sometimes just because you're drunk. I remember the time You fell backwards onto the floor Because you were so drunk That you couldn't even keep your balance. You could've fallen down the stairs Which was just in the other direction. I could've lost you that day. I remember the time you Smoked **** inside a friends car outside the bar During my confirmation party last year. I remember those two Christmases And those two birthdays that You ruined for me two years in a row. I remember the time when You blurted out to my godfather that I had cut and starved myself as if it were a news story. Did you ever stop and think that Maybe you're part of the reason why I did it? I remember the time You grabbed a trash bag and Started to put all your clothes in it While threatening to leave. But It's like you're never there anyways So what's the difference? Then last night you said something to me That tore my heart into pieces as if it were paper. You were mad at Mom for something That was most likely your fault. You said, “I'm gonna save up all my money And to hell with her!” Then I did the same thing as always. Go into my room. Close the door and lock it. Turn up the music. And cry. Sometimes I’d wish I was a child again Just so I wouldn't be able to understand, So it wouldn't hurt as bad. You know, You said you'd die at 40 but look, you're 41. So maybe that's God giving you a chance to change. But God has given you too many chances, I have given you too many chances, We have all given you way too many chances. A part of me wants you to know that I wrote this So you could maybe realise how much it hurts. But the other part of me knows that You'll just look away and laugh Like it doesn't mean anything. Just like you always do. -Cynthia Medeiros
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Apr 28, 2017
Apr 28, 2017 at 7:15 AM UTC
Memories of You
I have some good memories of you From when I was younger. I remember the times You'd bring me fishing, You taught me how to cast. I'd always hoped to catch A fish as big as a shark. I remember how you'd Always make me laugh. Especially when you'd start Laughing really hard because Your laugh is contagious. I remember being called "Daddy's little girl" because I'd always wanna be with you. And I remember wanting to go to The bar with you when you went. The bar, Where you'd go to drink And occasionally smoke cigarettes with friends. I didn't understand it back then. But now, I have new memories of you. I remember the times where I was terrified to die While you were behind the wheel. When you accelerated faster on the highway, I'd laugh in fear as I held in the tears And prayed to God to get home safe. Then you'd swerve. Sometimes purposely for fun, Sometimes just because you're drunk. I remember the time You fell backwards onto the floor Because you were so drunk That you couldn't even keep your balance. You could've fallen down the stairs Which was just in the other direction. I could've lost you that day. I remember the time you Smoked **** inside a friends car outside the bar During my confirmation party last year. I remember those two Christmases And those two birthdays that You ruined for me two years in a row. I remember the time when You blurted out to my godfather that I had cut and starved myself as if it were a news story. Did you ever stop and think that Maybe you're part of the reason why I did it? I remember the time You grabbed a trash bag and Started to put all your clothes in it While threatening to leave. But It's like you're never there anyways So what's the difference? Then last night you said something to me That tore my heart into pieces as if it were paper. You were mad at Mom for something That was most likely your fault. You said, “I'm gonna save up all my money And to hell with her!” Then I did the same thing as always. Go into my room. Close the door and lock it. Turn up the music. And cry. Sometimes I’d wish I was a child again Just so I wouldn't be able to understand, So it wouldn't hurt as bad. You know, You said you'd die at 40 but look, you're 41. So maybe that's God giving you a chance to change. But God has given you too many chances, I have given you too many chances, We have all given you way too many chances. A part of me wants you to know that I wrote this So you could maybe realise how much it hurts. But the other part of me knows that You'll just look away and laugh Like it doesn't mean anything. Just like you always do. -Cynthia Medeiros
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She derails me.   breathtaking, magnificent, tongue dumb words fail and sense blurs punch drunk love fear. an unfamiliar juggernaut on a collision course with sanity, confidence, self worth unfamiliar, unwarranted doubt. Paralyzed dumb, I have no explanation. Nothing taints a true childlike expression I stray into unattainable delusion. expectations, trailing tangents, delineation.   Peacocking: false representation of self.   Benevolent intention falls victim to accelerated dissonance Nano lies upon nano lies build a plastic truth Why am I doing this, and why can't I stop? She would have loved the real me.. The tongue tied, school boy all awkward and sweet Do I go for a kiss or just throw rocks? Oh well, she's gone now. The fake plastic boy scared her away.
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May 26, 2012
May 26, 2012 at 11:45 AM UTC
Derailer
Lights flash overhead, Shadows lace the journey on: Heavenly beings. Life has accelerated; Death rushes up to my face.
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Nov 13, 2014
Nov 13, 2014 at 2:11 PM UTC
Lights
Chemistry is what they called it You're the reason for my motivation Im blessed to feel love for the first time Even if it brought pain, I wont complain Id rather have known how it felt than had I never I wont deny, I was shy, and nervous Maybe quiet, dishonest when I denied my feelings My visits to your happy home, your voice sweet tone Left me alone, feelings slowly grown I wish I had you, next to me, holding you tight I will be by your side, through every single fight You don't how much pain, I felt Your heart was tender, soft, kind, and fragile Everynight I would cry, tears face down, on my pilow I pushed away a precious angel, sent from heaven I'm sorry I didnt take that chance I apologize, for emotionally hurting you I just wanted to feel your heartbeat, next to mine Your hands wrapped around me, holding tight Like the times, you layed on my chest The times you would doll up, make up, dress up, for me Eye shadow, eye liner, your fine hair in a pony tail And the little things you do, when I came around Blush, turn red, blood rushing to the head I would loose my breathe, my heart accelerated My body quivers from your energys presence I know I caused it to fall apart We can always take it back to the start Its all up to us, we make it happen only the two of us We been strong for so long, its time You place your heart, where it belongs...
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Oct 17, 2014
Oct 17, 2014 at 8:44 AM UTC
A Walk To Always & Forever Remember