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"aiden" poems
I wait alone wrapped in paper shivering amidst cold the door pressed hard against my chest this time a year ago I met a similar fate the verdict returned        cancer a word my mind has deconstructed reconstructed discarded as my past tears erupt behind my eyes how can I afford to fight again at what cost and during a pandemic the door **** twists as she emerges eyes averted my throat scored in pain "It's benign, come back 6 months from now" unable to move I peer through haze minutes tease silence then with trembling fingers I dial his number Aiden answers     "Mom, you okay?" nodding tearfully with newfound certainty I finally whisper, "Yes!"
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Aug 30, 2020
Aug 30, 2020 at 6:00 AM UTC
verdict
You make my cheeks burn brighter than Charizard's flame, And make my heart beat faster than Sonic The Hedgehog on Green Hill Zone, You calm me down like you're Lugia's song, And you make me laugh harder than a boss level itself. If you were the doctor I'd jump in the Tardis without a second glance, And fight daleks and weeping angels just for the chance, To grasp your hand. Out of all the starter Pokemon, I'd still choose you, And never trade you away, Not even for Mewtwo, You're rarer than a shiny Pokeman and mean more to me than that, You're hotter than Aiden Turner and Ash, If you're Link then I'd love to be your Zelda, The princess you save over and over. Like Tetris itself you complete me, You hold the key to my heart, And I'd proudly go on a quest to reclaim Erebor if you were by my side. I know this poem is nerdy, But I hope you find it sweet, Because I find without you, My life wouldn't be complete. Copyright© 2014 Megan John All rights reserved.
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Oct 18, 2014
Oct 18, 2014 at 2:14 PM UTC
#NOTMYPOEM (A POEM TO ED)
I got on the bus alone today and almost no one else was on it. As it neared our campus the setting sun hit the window so right, sending a golden corona across the dusty seats, bathing us all in this brilliant golden light. Brown eyes turned to honey, blue ones to oceans— a handful of minor gods and goddesses on their way to class, in sweatpants and backpacks. It was one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. None of us wanted to pull the cord to stop, but finally, someone did, and I had to get off. I feel alive on the bus, I feel alone at midnight. I am the princess of the bus. I make my boyfriend Aiden worse without intending to. I make a lot of things worse without intending to. I think that if I just spent a lifetime on the bus, circling round and round at around 6:30 p.m. I would cause a lot less harm on this planet. But someone always pulls the cord, even if I don’t. Aidan won’t pull the cord and neither will I. We might be riding this bus for a long time yet.
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Oct 29, 2024
Oct 29, 2024 at 10:51 PM UTC
Princess of the Bus
i sit here all alone in my zone and i wonder about the unknown no one is here for they come and they go when someone will stay i shall never know i think about what matters and what i truly love the most so to my Aiden i shall make a toast: i toast for all the happiness that life may bestow and destroy and i toast for my cautiousness because life is not a toy i toast for the memories that everyone might share and i toast for my friends and family who really do care i toast that the good are rewarded and the bad pay the price and i toast that i live long and right, living in my paradise
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Feb 3, 2011
Feb 3, 2011 at 1:58 PM UTC
my utopia
I keep seeing hints of you   In forced synchronicity    Where everything adds up to 5     Maybe it's a sign      Or I'm losing my ******* mind again      Did you catch the hint?     Is the madman manifesting?    Impulsive manic mood swings to paper   Filling out with the Full Moon As the Maiden waxes away I'm watching   Light up my sacral bond    Lightning strikes     like shotgun blows to the sky      A peephole into Heaven's locker room      Blame it on the the rain     You caught me off guard    Out of sync   Girl you know it's true That we're stranger than fiction My siren in the satire Muse in the mayhem of my mind I could be your Vonnegut As I'm Freudian slipping On my spilled guts in the 5th slaughterhouse
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May 24, 2013
May 24, 2013 at 11:10 PM UTC
Muse in the Mayhem
one day everything falls apart. your hands and her promises and you heart. loving her turns into not sleeping. ever. that one day six months later when you finally saw her again and choking on not saying I love you before she left because you can't stand the thought of her not saying it back. the possibility. this ache. someone asks you what happened between the two of you and you say that even the continents came apart. they don't get it. you don't either. something breaks inside of you every time the wind blows and you smell her perfume. something harder than glass. they call this something hope. she knows where you live and she knows you never leave but she isn't coming back. make no mistake. there will be no surprise visits. no knock on your door at five a.m, no tear streaked hello's and no heartfelt I missed you's. no happy ending. no ending at all. just a belly full of whiskey and the last time she told you she loved you. her words feel like plagiarism in your ear. you wonder how her mother would feel about this. you wonder if her mother saw this coming a mile away. you wonder if her mother will always be right. you take another drink and wonder how this glass would sound as it breaks against your wall. the moment it leaves your hand you regret it. what a mess. all liquor and love sick and four a.m. the rorschach stains on this carpet from back when you were practicing for ava or evelyn or aiden. she picked the names. all the carpet cleaner in the world won't erase the memory. you wouldn't try even if it would. the empty chair theory doesn't soothe this broken heart of yours. nothing does. you pull another glass from the cupboard and see her lipstick stain on the edge. you imagine being small enough to jump from the top and landing hard enough to **** yourself but softly enough to not leave a stain. they would look at you and say, "I think this one was an accident." and they are wrong.
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May 27, 2016
May 27, 2016 at 3:25 PM UTC
practicing for ava
one day everything falls apart. your hands and her promises and you heart. loving her turns into not sleeping. ever. that one day six months later when you finally saw her again and choking on not saying I love you before she left because you can't stand the thought of her not saying it back. the possibility. this ache. someone asks you what happened between the two of you and you say that even the continents came apart. they don't get it. you don't either. something breaks inside of you every time the wind blows and you smell her perfume. something harder than glass. they call this something hope. she knows where you live and she knows you never leave but she isn't coming back. make no mistake. there will be no surprise visits. no knock on your door at five a.m, no tear streaked hello's and no heartfelt I missed you's. no happy ending. no ending at all. just a belly full of whiskey and the last time she told you she loved you. her words feel like plagiarism in your ear. you wonder how her mother would feel about this. you wonder if her mother saw this coming a mile away. you wonder if her mother will always be right. you take another drink and wonder how this glass would sound as it breaks against your wall. the moment it leaves your hand you regret it. what a mess. all liquor and love sick and four a.m. the rorschach stains on this carpet from back when you were practicing for ava or evelyn or aiden. she picked the names. all the carpet cleaner in the world won't erase the memory. you wouldn't try even if it would. the empty chair theory doesn't soothe this broken heart of yours. nothing does. you pull another glass from the cupboard and see her lipstick stain on the edge. you imagine being small enough to jump from the top and landing hard enough to **** yourself but softly enough to not leave a stain. they would look at you and say, "I think this one was an accident." and they are wrong.
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1
My veins pulse, with every breathing stride. As we collide, Sword to sword. Midstream you pivot, Slashing towards my skin. I flourish. Blocking the **** You try with every effort, You learned from your father well. The lord of fire, Shalt not let you fail. Windmilling, You fall to the ground. Hiding your eyes in that black hair. You never hide them well. I kneel down, Tilting your chin up for you to see. A smile on my face. The smile of a proud mother. "Aiden, You have done well my son.. Now teach the other five. And you have won."
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Apr 24, 2014
Apr 24, 2014 at 9:46 AM UTC
Sparring with Aiden
Bricks are red, Some Nerf darts are blue. All I wanted to say is: Bro, you ****
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Jun 14, 2015
Jun 14, 2015 at 7:35 PM UTC
For Aiden
i don't think i'll ever forget you you'll move on, and i'll be stuck i'm not bitter, i just remembered how much you made me feel
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Feb 17, 2021
Feb 17, 2021 at 6:44 AM UTC
aiden (2)
Listen to me Aiden, and listen to me well Don't say goodbye, 'cause you love her like hell You know that she's everything to you, So listen to me; here is what you do, Find her and tell her how perfect she is tell her quickly, before she is his. You need her, you love, you really do Why would you let anything stop you? She is your light, your life, your love Swear to me Aiden, upon god above You won't give up on her, won't say goodbye At least not until you give this a try She is your everything, she's perfect to you and tell her you still love her, 'cause I know you do.
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Apr 21, 2014
Apr 21, 2014 at 2:12 AM UTC
Listen to me Aiden
What do you think Heaven looks like? Do you think we each have our own form of Heaven? I had a dream once about my mother’s Heaven. She called me from there, via FaceTime. Funny, right? We all know that’s not even remotely possible, but I think I wanted to talk to my mom so bad that my mind made it seem like it was actually possible. It was about a week after she passed away. It seemed so real, as I can remember it so vividly. In my dream... I remember how my phone showed “Mom Calling...” I couldn’t believe it but I answer it anyways. There I see my mom’s face. Gosh, was it so good to see her face again! I had missed her so much already. She began to cry so naturally, I started crying along with her. I asked her, “Why are you crying, Mom?” She told me, “I wasn’t ready to die, Sarah. There was still a lot of life to experience. I don’t get to watch Aiden grow up, or see you get married. I don’t get to experience any of that!” I could hear it in her voice that she was becoming angry. Then a voice called out, “Mom, are you really here?” I realized it was my older brother Michael calling for our mom. Michael had passed away when he was just a little baby. This was their reunion after a long 26 years of being apart. I could see it on my mom’s face that she was happy to see him. She returned to our FaceTime chat and noticed I was crying. She said, “Oh, Sarah. I am so sorry that I’m not there with you anymore but I promise you. I will always be watching over you. You’re strong, and I know you’ll be okay until you are called Home to Heaven.” I sniffled and replied, “Yeah? How do you know I’m going to be okay?” She smiled and replied, “Because you’re my daughter.” After some more crying, she says to me, “I have to go now. Michael and Grandma are waiting for me. But before I go, I want you to see my Heaven so you know I’m at peace now. That I’m happy.” She flips the camera around so I can see what is surrounding her. In all of its wonders, there it was. My mother’s Heaven. What looked like a garden full of Morning Glories—my mom’s favorite flower. And Hummingbirds— what she always loved watching as they fed from the feeder she put out for them off the back porch. It was so beautiful, and so bright. The beauty in itself brought tears of joy to my eyes. But then, my heart broke just a little more. Those words pierced my heart like a knife all over again. “I have to go now, Sarah. I love you. Bye.” The call was ended. See, I knew that wasn’t really goodbye. It was simply, “See you later.” Because I know one day, I will see her again. The day the Lord calls me Home... To my Heaven.
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Aug 24, 2018
Aug 24, 2018 at 1:39 AM UTC
Inside Your Heaven
What do you think Heaven looks like? Do you think we each have our own form of Heaven? I had a dream once about my mother’s Heaven. She called me from there, via FaceTime. Funny, right? We all know that’s not even remotely possible, but I think I wanted to talk to my mom so bad that my mind made it seem like it was actually possible. It was about a week after she passed away. It seemed so real, as I can remember it so vividly. In my dream... I remember how my phone showed “Mom Calling...” I couldn’t believe it but I answer it anyways. There I see my mom’s face. Gosh, was it so good to see her face again! I had missed her so much already. She began to cry so naturally, I started crying along with her. I asked her, “Why are you crying, Mom?” She told me, “I wasn’t ready to die, Sarah. There was still a lot of life to experience. I don’t get to watch Aiden grow up, or see you get married. I don’t get to experience any of that!” I could hear it in her voice that she was becoming angry. Then a voice called out, “Mom, are you really here?” I realized it was my older brother Michael calling for our mom. Michael had passed away when he was just a little baby. This was their reunion after a long 26 years of being apart. I could see it on my mom’s face that she was happy to see him. She returned to our FaceTime chat and noticed I was crying. She said, “Oh, Sarah. I am so sorry that I’m not there with you anymore but I promise you. I will always be watching over you. You’re strong, and I know you’ll be okay until you are called Home to Heaven.” I sniffled and replied, “Yeah? How do you know I’m going to be okay?” She smiled and replied, “Because you’re my daughter.” After some more crying, she says to me, “I have to go now. Michael and Grandma are waiting for me. But before I go, I want you to see my Heaven so you know I’m at peace now. That I’m happy.” She flips the camera around so I can see what is surrounding her. In all of its wonders, there it was. My mother’s Heaven. What looked like a garden full of Morning Glories—my mom’s favorite flower. And Hummingbirds— what she always loved watching as they fed from the feeder she put out for them off the back porch. It was so beautiful, and so bright. The beauty in itself brought tears of joy to my eyes. But then, my heart broke just a little more. Those words pierced my heart like a knife all over again. “I have to go now, Sarah. I love you. Bye.” The call was ended. See, I knew that wasn’t really goodbye. It was simply, “See you later.” Because I know one day, I will see her again. The day the Lord calls me Home... To my Heaven.
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44
Everyday I see, A Maiden filled with life. Everyday I feel being Loved. Inside this maiden, Tapped! My mother Always I will love.
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May 9, 2015
May 9, 2015 at 8:25 AM UTC
EMELITA
We surprised Aiden today with a bike as an early birthday gift With frustration, I showed him how he has to pedal forward to go He kept pushing back It doesn’t move when you press back on brakes After a few tries, he nailed it He took off like the wind I watched him ride off towards the sunset Free as a bird I pleaded for him to turn around As he said the words, “Mommy, look at me! I can do it! I’m a big boy!” Big boy, come back. Come back and be my little boy again. Mommy isn’t ready to see you grow up so fast. It’s inevitable
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Jun 30, 2018
Jun 30, 2018 at 9:41 PM UTC
Ride Like The Wind