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blushing prince Dec 2016
Beginning with the swagger of my palm to the squeezing sensation in my ribcage
I realize that the modern woman is alone among everyone else
from the creative orthopedic doctor whose joints resemble that of an
air craft plane your father designed in 1953
to the zany business owner that counts their own steps and
watches the calorie intake of the television dribble
there’s a bit of resentment on her polished fingernails as
she watches feminist prose on stage of a bar with no name
and she drinks cordially, the same intake that a midnight taxi driver
takes to keep his sanity, just enough to recognize street signs
and forget people’s faces
she sits in her dining room table and admires the lump in her throat
never feeling at home with dinner guests so she invents
party games that freefall off her legs into the carpet
that used to belong to a woman with no legs and a smoker’s mouth
but she doesn’t know this because she got it for three dollars
from her neighbor who isn’t alive anymore
and the blood stains of the old woman’s breath have long
disappeared and it’s appealing, yes very appealing
the modern woman is alone among everyone else
that comes foremost, thus the shy boys become isolated women
and the cycle of who is who begins to spin but the laundry won’t stop
piling in a corner of a room
and as soon as it stops the clothes drip from gender to gender  
between the tiles of the convenience store, between the
local gas station where men sit in their pickup trucks staring
at the spit on the ground and wondering whose mouth
it regurgitated from
and the lights become more fluorescent, more menacing  
so the solitary companions start coming later and later
until the sun sets and the lights are off and the only way to
know if another heart is beating is by crawling on the floor
hoping to find a pulse instead of an unsteady table, or a broken
chair or window howling but one acclimates to such conditions
while the modern woman is most intellectual of all
there’s a primitiveness, a strange longing to look behind her
to continue with watchful eyes darting long glances at the past
and sighing with relief that this is now and the future looks down with
convincing not conniving glares but still she falls into the
pit of her own stomach and memorizes the world upside down
the words jostle about,  the approaches of curious hands
become welcoming and the universe that once was an oyster
melts into a pearl with a sharp edge, a tooth made
out of pretty godforsaken, the speculated
creation of something eternally ****** will always be ******
but you don’t have to agree with it, there’s no reason to
shimmy into a container of shouts when you could
easily assimilate into a vat of unknowness, to
belong to something so you don’t have to be anything
yes indeed the modern woman stands alone in these dark ages
but the swagger has been reduced to a soft calamity, the
squeezing sensations in my rib cage have been swallowed to a
slow pull, grasp, released clench of a heart
April Watson Apr 2014
She kicks and screams at the solid feeling of longing, of desire.
She struggles against it like the shore against the tide but it just acclimates.
Wrapping itself around her, enclosing about her randomly protruding limbs.
Engulfing her until every drop of air is squeezed from her lungs.
Only then will Life resuscitate her and allow Fate to strangle her once again.

Loosing all sense of equilibrium, her mind scatters.
She starts to panic, to dread. She looses composure and self-awareness.
All she can think of is the sweet taste of air, of the comfort every breath offers.
The thought that she may never savor it again is the terror trembling in her gut.
Etsapwera Aug 2015
There is a certain apprehension
upon learning
that one must sink before
being able to float. And swim.
It calls to mind previous drownings,
in and out of the water.
Of being pulled under
of thrashings
of water coming in and threatening
to overpower one's self.

But one plunges in
and acclimates
to the cold water,
remembering that even the
greatest among us must face
the unknown.
For Enteng, JP, and Jaze
Concoxide Jul 2017
i saw the results of an amateur study claiming to measure which religion cares the most about the homeless by the amount of money dropped into a variety of bowls with each religion labeled and laid out in front of a beggar.

i propose that money is not an accurate measurement of caring in this situation.  the following points could also be applied to raising children and/or running our education system... here is my argument:

----------

money is not the most accurate measure of caring in this situation.

for example, if a child has not yet learned to walk, and you want the child to walk (you care) you have these options:

1. use money to pay someone to manipulate the child's legs or build an expensive apparatus that performs the task of walking for the child

2. use knowledge and training to encourage the child to familiarize themselves with the mechanics of walking.

3. do nothing, just observe.

each method may have a different result..

1. the child walks, although this stops when the manipulator stops.  this is a solution, although the child probably didn't learn anything. he may have made a new friend, but he is dependent on that friend... payments must be made perpetually to achieve the goal we care about.. alot of money is needed to maintain this type of caring... it may never end because skills may never be learned.

2. the child struggles. the child gets frustrated. the child gets motivated to overcome the frustration. the child's learns how to follow instructions.  eventually the child acclimates himself to the mechanics of walking. the child walks.  the goal we care about is achieved. we no longer have to concern ourselves with the goal in any way, shape, or form.

3.  the child struggles.  the child gets frustrated.  the child gets motivated to overcome the frustration.  the child either falls into desperation and gives up or learns how to be innovative and resourceful.. discovering the mechanics of walking by trial and error.

scenario 1
the throw money at it scenario may be the most commonly accepted form of caring, although it is often the worst at achieving the goals we care about.

scenario 2
the structured training scenario can be good at achieving the goals we care about, although there could still be a level of dependency here if/when new problems are encountered that aren't covered by the training.

scenario 3
the hands off scenario has both the greatest and the worst potential.  the goals we care about may be achieved or the subject may be lost entirely.  if the goals are achieved, the subject is likely to be very prepared to take on any new or unexpected problems encountered.

the most appropriate approach may be in the form of a combination of scenario 2 and scenario 3...  providing knowledge/training to overcome a problem only when the subject is leaning towards desperation/giving up... one must determine, however, whether the subject that has given up can be remotivated.

so you see, lack of monetary donation does not equate to a lack of caring.  and i do realize that "training" involves money although it's not money put directly in a beggars bowl.

the measurement depicted seems to be more of an inverse representation of the wisdom and problem solving capabilities of the average followers of said groups
brandon nagley May 2015
No accompaniment acclimates thine devoid of living,  of thinking past the sinning of thine thirteenth deadliest sins.

The road gets narrower, chase lanes get fairer where the willows ponder and sway!!

Eight years gone five to go sais the men in blue, we could be him, he could be you!!!

What a diamond inside the maze....

Familiar and famous you shall be If you like, breathe If you might, the walls are coming in!!!!

Falter, fed like doctors, it takes a nurse inside the gates to get in silk-saltined skin I die to find!!

Rubies strive to shine where the moonlight takes its place!!!

Planet's small, largely designed!!! Tapes played to speed fests of dying minds!!!!

What a blind we've put between the hairs square, where art noones fair, at least not to me no more!!!!

What do we look forwarth to being? Forward to seeing when the train stops at loveless station!!!!where different nations meet at one world belief...

Hatred brings fear, false tears now  come near to the statuette's of cut degraded beef. Endoctoronated streets!!!!

Openly honest to Birdseye view, cameras old and new snap shots from whence you'd remember...will I be free .Thirteen days? Or let out in mid December!!!!!!/
Michael Marchese Mar 2021
Stats and factions,
Facts and fictions
Good intention’s
Contradictions
Lying dead
For promised land,
The losses gaining
Upper hand
Though seldom from it
Passes grasp
Of power into
Lower class
The apparatus acclimates
Itself
And then recalibrates
The plan
Then weatherman’s ad hoc
Projects its stocks
And locks the vox
Within a box,
An echo chamber,
Feedback loop
Of fueling anger
Just to get
One click away
From censoring
Each word you say
For pre-determined
Points for talking
Social credit score
Is stalking
Hawking eyes
Are everywhere,
Don’t blink,
Don’t think,
You wouldn’t dare

— The End —