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"acids" poems
Out of lemon flowers loosed on the moonlight, love's lashed and insatiable essences, sodden with fragrance, the lemon tree's yellow emerges, the lemons move down from the tree's planetarium Delicate merchandise! The harbors are big with it- bazaars for the light and the barbarous gold. We open the halves of a miracle, and a clotting of acids brims into the starry divisions: creation's original juices, irreducible, changeless, alive: so the freshness lives on in a lemon, in the sweet-smelling house of the rind, the proportions, arcane and acerb. Cutting the lemon the knife leaves a little cathedral: alcoves unguessed by the eye that open acidulous glass to the light; topazes riding the droplets, altars, aromatic facades. So, while the hand holds the cut of the lemon, half a world on a trencher, the gold of the universe wells to your touch: a cup yellow with miracles, a breast and a ****** perfuming the earth; a flashing made fruitage, the diminutive fire of a planet.
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42.1k
Ode To a Lemon
Somehow your heart enzymes inveigled a way into my system I surmise it was your energising tongue which smuggled them in my pseudoanaphylactic longing to snuggle in vein against your protein its aim a happy interaction tugged by frenzied polypeptide chains when your petite triglycerides coil avidly around my pH changes hydrolysis replenishes steroids to stop any pleasure level plunge so that functional-group transfers may intervene at all active sites supervising where coenzymes await love's coursing stem cell sights that photosynthesise my eyes to sensitise to you despite the dark dancing in all my living cells with infectious smiles an epidemic when your DNA can't polymerase enough of the audacious lipids pleasing as they kiss the density away of fatty acids on soft lips that release protease inhibitors in ways not too selective so our hearts find their metabolic pathway audaciously live and offer themselves completely to a frolic in love reactive
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Jul 28, 2014
Jul 28, 2014 at 12:06 PM UTC
Love's Enzymes Are Carried On A Polypeptide
I've been focused on nutrition sense before recognition of a requirement of nutrients for my life. I eat for nutrition I shunned the processed chemical ick a lifetime ago it seems no longer remembering the taste of chemically created food stuffs. though I know if I were to get a taste it would satisfy my buds they were made with my buds in mind hijacked my senses lied and lied and lied told my body it didn't need nutrition that is could live off of intuition and stuff in boxes and bags and cans I've become my own food processor now I have mouths to feed now I know what to feed and where they make feed from so we stick to the grass-fed I'll teach them how to eat even before how to read its just how I see it once that sugar laden red chemical construction touches their lips they will instantly desire more Twain and Fitzgerald will take them longer to digest. so these are my priorities now. I am a nutrition seeker a truth seeker and I believe I come from a line of healers all who knew nutrition is the key to life, here. the basic building blocks, the amino acids of life, here. when you're nourished it all makes more sense but stay out of those center aisles their chemical composition is too dense my kidney could no longer clean the code of food stuffs. My strong little kidney I'm so proud of it for releasing its grip on its twin. it wasn't for us anyways
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Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 7:10 PM UTC
nutritious
Razors pain you; Rivers are damp; Acids stain you; And drugs cause cramp. Guns aren't lawful; Nooses give; Gas smells awful; You might as well live.
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5.9k
Resume
Thread knuckles into notches of your spine, you were mine. Held down as carotid fought hard, to keep open your eye. Staring vivid as clouds overtook. I can taste you through your musk, hear the quivering in your thigh. Stomach acids crawled into your nose, and petals bloom. Belly aflame, throat bleat with each beat. As vision tunneled from expanse to pinhole spindle of our room. Bared teeth like a wild animal, eyes wide with excitement. If you could breathe a word your smile soon'd fade. Porcelain comtesse *** undress with maroon'd face.
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Aug 5, 2018
Aug 5, 2018 at 4:36 AM UTC
Comtesse
*Lies are strong acids which corrodes the foundation of Trust.* © Amitav (Radiance)
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May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 4:13 PM UTC
Lies (10W)
for Ruth Fainlight I know the bottom, she says. I know it with my great tap root; It is what you fear. I do not fear it: I have been there. Is it the sea you hear in me, Its dissatisfactions? Or the voice of nothing, that was you madness? Love is a shadow. How you lie and cry after it. Listen: these are its hooves: it has gone off, like a horse. All night I shall gallup thus, impetuously, Till your head is a stone, your pillow a little turf, Echoing, echoing. Or shall I bring you the sound of poisons? This is rain now, the big hush. And this is the fruit of it: tin white, like arsenic. I have suffered the atrocity of sunsets. Scorched to the root My red filaments burn and stand,a hand of wires. Now I break up in pieces that fly about like clubs. A wind of such violence Will tolerate no bystanding: I must shriek. The moon, also, is merciless: she would drag me Cruelly, being barren. Her radiance scathes me. Or perhaps I have caught her. I let her go. I let her go Diminished and flat, as after radical surgery. How your bad dreams possess and endow me. I am inhabited by a cry. Nightly it ***** out Looking, with its hooks, for something to love. I am terrified by this dark thing That sleeps in me; All day I feel its soft, feathery turnings, its malignity. Clouds pass and disperse. Are those the faces of love, those pale irretrievables? Is it for such I agitate my heart? I am incapable of more knowledge. What is this, this face So murderous in its strangle of branches? ---- Its snaky acids kiss. It petrifies the will. These are the isolate, slow faults That **** that **** that ****
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4.2k
Elm
for Ruth Fainlight I know the bottom, she says. I know it with my great tap root; It is what you fear. I do not fear it: I have been there. Is it the sea you hear in me, Its dissatisfactions? Or the voice of nothing, that was you madness? Love is a shadow. How you lie and cry after it. Listen: these are its hooves: it has gone off, like a horse. All night I shall gallup thus, impetuously, Till your head is a stone, your pillow a little turf, Echoing, echoing. Or shall I bring you the sound of poisons? This is rain now, the big hush. And this is the fruit of it: tin white, like arsenic. I have suffered the atrocity of sunsets. Scorched to the root My red filaments burn and stand,a hand of wires. Now I break up in pieces that fly about like clubs. A wind of such violence Will tolerate no bystanding: I must shriek. The moon, also, is merciless: she would drag me Cruelly, being barren. Her radiance scathes me. Or perhaps I have caught her. I let her go. I let her go Diminished and flat, as after radical surgery. How your bad dreams possess and endow me. I am inhabited by a cry. Nightly it ***** out Looking, with its hooks, for something to love. I am terrified by this dark thing That sleeps in me; All day I feel its soft, feathery turnings, its malignity. Clouds pass and disperse. Are those the faces of love, those pale irretrievables? Is it for such I agitate my heart? I am incapable of more knowledge. What is this, this face So murderous in its strangle of branches? ---- Its snaky acids kiss. It petrifies the will. These are the isolate, slow faults That **** that **** that ****
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Eat then to toss it up, Appetite sedated for the time being then to just loose it all In the fight of the stomach acids and the food This will **** you, but you still puke Bulge on burgers and Shakes then to loose it to the bowl I used eat then loose it I bulged on burgers and shakes I used to be anorexic
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Oct 30, 2013
Oct 30, 2013 at 4:39 PM UTC
Anorexia
Love on my toes, love in the cabinet, love jumps off balconies it is an eighteen year old succubus offering spinal taps. Bring the gentlemen their evening numbness before next morning’s nightmare and ******** are scheduled on God’s map – he just steps out for a moment, settles his sleeping mask on. God is so unhappy: he understands nothing of love. Get this recipe recited so we shall feed them pink and blue pills which knobs can sting boys in the *** a fleabite or bow soon our leather heels chime through their ears like hooves. The master may question their nutrition so hold out a paper cup sloshing in female nectar, our vaguely cerise saliva sustenance that comes from between slits carved for such – these acids are love, love, love. Love from cavities, love pearls knotted in the roots of a mother clam, fallopian love tubes. Every shoebox offers warmth, complementary wakeup calls a petite blonde to peel him out of his pajamas, too – lay your husbands down into the doll-case if he has no love as God is not watching here. Oh, how happy our gentlemen are.
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Mar 25, 2013
Mar 25, 2013 at 4:42 PM UTC
*** objects
Sweet Earth, each molecule of me has come from you.   Sesame seed, broken into amino acids and calcium, became my tiny bones; bananas, potassium, the cells of my brain. If we could trace each atom back, we'd find Kansas, Iowa, Ecuador, Spain. And further still, through unimaginable millennia, these same atoms --the very same-- were flung from a supernova, only to recombine, here, on Earth. "Of star-stuff, are we made." Carl Sagan said. And then (when I'm dead) the same in reverse: the atoms' slow dispersal: pulled in by roots, washed by rivers, melted in magma, blown, finally, to smithereens by the exploding sun.... Star-stuff, once again, become.
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Aug 1, 2017
Aug 1, 2017 at 2:33 PM UTC
Star-Stuff
Pain Like an unforgiving waterfall Crashes on me Rips open my skin And pours its horrible thoughts Into my soul I am sick to my stomach Its acids eat me up from the inside Actions And consequences Actions And consequences Break a promise, please? DON'T YOU DARE Please don't say that You don't care anymore Act the same PLEASE Act the same Could this now be a point? A turning point in which your head turns Away? Away from me? How could you dare?! Keep your promises I'll keep mine HOLD ON.
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Jan 14, 2010
Jan 14, 2010 at 12:54 PM UTC
Waterfall
Eat then to toss it up, Appetite sedated for the time being then to just loose it all In the fight of the stomach acids and the food This will **** you, but you still puke Bulge on burgers and Shakes then to loose it to the bowl I used eat then loose it I bulged on burgers and shakes I used to be anorexic
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Oct 30, 2013
Oct 30, 2013 at 4:39 PM UTC
Anorexia
Why does my heart still race when I see you? I saw you walking today, with your friend, and all I could think was "Wow. Is this what a heart attack feels like?" Because I can't believe it, I was done. I was OVER you. And instead my heart goes "Beep... Beep... Beep. Beep. Beep. BEEP. BEEP. BEEPBEEEPBEEEPBEEEPBEEEP," every single time you come around, like a freakin radar. I am not a submarine. I do not NEED for every single cell in my body to alert me when you're within 20 feet of me because, like I said before, I WAS DONE. No! Don't you dare smile at me with your crooked mouth and shining eyes. Because then I feel gross. I DON'T LIKE THE THOUGHT OF BUTTERFLIES FLYING AROUND IN MY STOMACH. That is disturbing and physically impossible. My stomach acids would've killed them on contact. Don't try to make this crush cute. So please, for the love of a Jesus Christ Super Toaster, don't do THAT anymore. And by "THAT" I mean, don't make me love you anymore. I can't stand it and I won't for any longer. In church I was taught that having idols was bad, but that's exactly what you are to me. A forbidden fruit So I am praying to God that you are a mango because I hate mangos. Their insides are too thick and outsides way too thin. Which is exactly like you because you are a haywire of emotions, but I can easily peel you away to see who you really are. Maybe I do like mangos...
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May 23, 2013
May 23, 2013 at 11:52 PM UTC
I wish you were a mango
To make wine, Grapes are crushed then poured into fermentation tanks. Once fermentation begins, the grape skins are pushed to the surface by carbon dioxide gases released in the fermentation process. I am the only fruit who has the necessary acids to make natural, stable wine. My tannins add a bitterness and astringency, But I must be picked at the right time. My acidity and sweetness must be zen in balance. The right ones are sorted through, but not all of us make the cut. Unable to be served as sweet wine, too bitter. Some more sweet, not bitter enough. Simply picked at the wrong time, their peak unwanted, forgotten. After being sorted we are destemmed and crushed. Our roots ripped from us, dignity stomped upon. For years, it was done manually, by foot. Now, preformed mechanically, systematically. But hey! "Mechanical pressing has brought tremendous sanitary gains as well as increased the longevity and quality of wine." Grape abuse continues, white wine grapes are quickly crushed. Why do you ask? To keep unwanted "color" from leeching into the wine. But red wine, Red wine is left in contact with it's skin, forced to acquire more color, more flavor and additional tannins. After being sorted and crushed, I naturally ferment with in six to twelve hours. This continues until all my sugar, Is converted to alcohol. To produce dry, wine. The final stage is aging. I am bottled with a cork, Put on a shelf. And ironically, await my optimal fruitfulness.
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Dec 6, 2016
Dec 6, 2016 at 2:30 PM UTC
FERMENTATION MANIPULATION
i have learned to breathe under holy water - grew gills so strong they are lined with celestial gold. the ocean is a puddle to me now. and i ***** pearls of pain, lick them clean with my acetylene tongue. my acids will heal what the world cannot. pills and love potions   can't take away my virginity. i am clean, so clean. the devil watches me and cringes at my radioactive light. for i am dead and alive all at once. poison, poison. the radium drips from my lips like babyspit and i am too pure for god himself so i offer my golden blood to a higher power that would take the pureness of it all and make it an ounce of what i could have been
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Feb 6, 2017
Feb 6, 2017 at 7:45 PM UTC
pearls
Another Sunday, time to recover From all the drugs, my only lover Take my B vitamins to start the circulation With some fish oils to reduce inflammation Most importantly, are my amino acids Because of that I've been flushed So now I replenish these masses The benzos are the only drugs that get touched So addicted to them, so I know it's a must If a doctor read this, he'd understand my logic But if a doctor read this, he'd command me to stop it As I continue my day with my normal acting mind I realize I'm a slave to drugs, all the time But I'm financially flourished The whole family I nourish And after reading these poems, I feel some people get jealous Who would follow me? They know my soul I had sold it I always follow back, I'm not a bad guy Now sit on top of that, I'm not living a lie I could really care less about it It's just an alias, and a therapeutic outlet Just another Sunday Glad you read about it
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Aug 3, 2014
Aug 3, 2014 at 1:28 PM UTC
Another Sunday
we used to say we were connected the two of us used to say you could feel my heart sinking into the acids in my stomach could feel it being slowly eaten alive used to say you were so sorry, sorry, sorry and I’d say no, no I’m sorry I’m sorry and your heart would sink into the hungry pit of your stomach I always felt you deserved that miserable revenge maybe not all I feel lately is empty and I wonder if that’s you or me stumbling through this lost connection falling perpetually in this black hole of static forever keeping us apart.
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Oct 20, 2012
Oct 20, 2012 at 10:46 PM UTC
Untitled
Beturikeš sleep in the middle of Germany. USS, Romania, Serbia, C. Using Maccaro Maguinda. Green Turkish Arabic Italian Export Marks Marcus Germany Roman legends are amino acids. 1 edition of "Beritania'amino Nā'akika -'amino Nā'akika ... which, to see Nikki, Pompey, Ram Lambinue Mont Blanc NJAC (Mont Blanc), Tiripolisa, United States, Brazil, China, Hawaii, United States "In Somalia, United States of America, Romania, Serbia, Romania, sad, knowing in the USA, Diego has lost the wall," meaning "landlords are Arab, Arabic Arno'ōma'oma'o , German, Thai, Italian लौरा LGBQLig Rich Roman Mount Cay England, United Kingdom, Romania, Science NJAC sufficiency, 11 new cases in my new Mont Blanc, Luembanii Hawaii American Tripoli Brazil, Uganda, Romania, Spain, Riya, Somalia, November, Switzerland, Germany, and now it is an adult man acid , Nā'akika D. was unhappy, sound United States, and Romania Purgatininigi -... "This popular Christian Democratic International, United Nations General Assembly, United States Marinca, Romania, Serbia, Roman race. Mango Mango lamp. Green Apap, Arno, Albanian, German, one Italian लौड़ा बक Light, Real Estate in Thai. In the Roman Empire I Pelekāne'amino nā'akika lock in the UK, "no idea" Hey, Romania, Luembinnogo Mont Blanc Custom NJAC (Mont Blanc), Brazil, United States Tripoli China, Hawaii, Uganda, Romania, Spain, Italy, Somalia , November 11th ... - Laws Act, Germany, Law on Germany, Now A Man, 'Amino Dictionary D. On the contrary, a spokesman for the Roman Latin America, the former Romanian-American ... even "Christian" has never been a Christian.
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Nov 1, 2018
Nov 1, 2018 at 5:12 PM UTC
Miss Roman Universe
Beturikeš sleep in the middle of Germany. USS, Romania, Serbia, C. Using Maccaro Maguinda. Green Turkish Arabic Italian Export Marks Marcus Germany Roman legends are amino acids. 1 edition of "Beritania'amino Nā'akika -'amino Nā'akika ... which, to see Nikki, Pompey, Ram Lambinue Mont Blanc NJAC (Mont Blanc), Tiripolisa, United States, Brazil, China, Hawaii, United States "In Somalia, United States of America, Romania, Serbia, Romania, sad, knowing in the USA, Diego has lost the wall," meaning "landlords are Arab, Arabic Arno'ōma'oma'o , German, Thai, Italian लौरा LGBQLig Rich Roman Mount Cay England, United Kingdom, Romania, Science NJAC sufficiency, 11 new cases in my new Mont Blanc, Luembanii Hawaii American Tripoli Brazil, Uganda, Romania, Spain, Riya, Somalia, November, Switzerland, Germany, and now it is an adult man acid , Nā'akika D. was unhappy, sound United States, and Romania Purgatininigi -... "This popular Christian Democratic International, United Nations General Assembly, United States Marinca, Romania, Serbia, Roman race. Mango Mango lamp. Green Apap, Arno, Albanian, German, one Italian लौड़ा बक Light, Real Estate in Thai. In the Roman Empire I Pelekāne'amino nā'akika lock in the UK, "no idea" Hey, Romania, Luembinnogo Mont Blanc Custom NJAC (Mont Blanc), Brazil, United States Tripoli China, Hawaii, Uganda, Romania, Spain, Italy, Somalia , November 11th ... - Laws Act, Germany, Law on Germany, Now A Man, 'Amino Dictionary D. On the contrary, a spokesman for the Roman Latin America, the former Romanian-American ... even "Christian" has never been a Christian.
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Three nobles were fleeing after the monarchy had been overthrown Three non-polar amino acids were trying to get away from the polar gel they were on They were escaping through means of a merchant who dealt with the black market He gave priority to those who paid a heftier sum The amino acids were aided by a non-polar liquid solution The more non-polar the amino acid the higher up the solution could get them But alas! For the merchant lacked the resources to get the nobles out of danger The amino acids all eventually reached the top of the gel sheet But they would need extra aid to go over the top And that is my science class
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Sep 18, 2018
Sep 18, 2018 at 3:59 PM UTC
From TLC lab to Story Time
A bubble. Form without void, the time before time, absolute inertia, total resolution, perfect harmony, the bubble forming, expanding, like an explosion, displacing, creating, The Birthing of galaxies and stars, planets in formation, the universe unfolding, meteors crashing into the atmosphere primitive, amino acids forming, evolving inorganic to organic, microbes becoming multi-cellular --the race is on, to and from fishes, amphibians, reptiles, birds, animals, primates man, consciousness and self-consciousness, born and dying, nothing meaning everything time and time again. Awareness began, both with a bang and a newborn baby's cry.
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Sep 14, 2010
Sep 14, 2010 at 8:23 AM UTC
The Birthing
These memories I tried to burn from my brain by lighting          cigarette by cigarette.        Hoping that one day the smoke would cloud what memories remained of you.          Memories of you and I          Stuck in my brain          Like stars stuck to the landscape of the sky.          These memories that bring so much pain are the ones that not even the rain could wash away.          Memories which sent warning signals to my nerve endings and set my body alight. Memories which couldn't be eroded away, even with the strongest of acids. These memories are positively stuck. When I wake up from dreams of you I begin my day with thoughts of you All these tragic memories that haunt me day by day Sending shivers up my spine. Not just memories of you But memories of me My little reminders of the many pains of life The only thing that could hurt me more than you Is the pain of the memories of who I once was The things I once did And the person I will never be.
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Aug 12, 2014
Aug 12, 2014 at 7:15 PM UTC
Fumes
Razors pain you; Rivers are damp; Acids stain you; And drugs cause cramp. Guns aren't lawful; Nooses give; Gas smells awful; You might as well live.
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Mar 7, 2010
Mar 7, 2010 at 10:52 AM UTC
Resume by Dorothy Parker
1. Princely I am, as Michigan loam, as carefully turned mud, as old, old dust–– my breaths are still and unresolved and don’t dissolve in alcohol like snakes or dead, bloated fish–– I am nothing monumental. 2. Stuttered breaths lie in limp open circles around our feet, hanging by threads of unmade promises–– symmetry was never my forte. The bent nose, the crooked lips, the slow-ballooning wen where nitrogen bubbles–– my flesh is like untilled soil, all raw and swollen with possibility. 3. You asked me if it was probable to find life on Mars where the iron-leeched sand crumbles like dried hemoglobin. I don’t know about amino acids or genesis or the first man of Dust, much less mysteries of lovesickness, respiration, really good *** We’re barren in different ways; your dust comes from dreams, from heaven, crimson and majestic and dead as Olympus Mons while I am like moon dust, just as cold as your bone-dry lakes of carbon dioxide, but paler, heavier, and more remote.
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Dec 20, 2012
Dec 20, 2012 at 11:22 PM UTC
Halation
My head in riddles, poisonous snakes latch onto every thought, every feeling, leeching out every essense of purity until I'm left dry in thrist. I feel the pressure of the acids pulsating through every nerve of my living body, slowly torturing, paralyzing me from the inside out. But I can still feel the dim flicker of light, the one feeling, the strongest of them all, hidden the deep in the caverns of my exsistence. I will crawl with my fingernails, with every last breath to reach this light. I will bleed before I allow myself to become paraslysed into darkness. These devious creeping shadows will be cast out, the abundance of light will take over, I will be free. I am ready to step into self liberation.
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Jan 3, 2016
Jan 3, 2016 at 8:29 PM UTC
Self Liberation