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"avoidance" poems
As the glorious LION Stands strong in stature Radiating with a presence Of Absolute rule The air washed with A bristly respect A natural pride Beams with  beauty He guards the gateway to truth and only the brave may enter He is the king that needs no crown as he holds a royal presence as he sits in his golden coat and main Lies spark combust just bounce off dissolve in all his shine. As broken men become renewed Their fractured parts Collect in the melting *** Of the Lion's  stare As they are engulfed and swallowed In the reservoirs of his strength As the many wounded souls Find themselves restored In his majestic presence As he rattles the very fabric Of this world There is no procrastinating belly Exposed by a lackluster display No one insults his strength By creating a make believe world Or covers him with scaffolding so That they may alter him For he is the finished article And he is never held up or supported With anyone's emotional ropes or strings For he no ones puppet He is never silenced By the Strangle hold of this world Tightened with a multitude of gestures For I hear his ROAR!!!!!!!! His explosive self expression As his throat bursts and beams like the sun Breaking all collars, and his tongue is freed As a thousand trap doors Open up in him   And boulders are lifted and rocks are shattered within the sound of his voice. His Soft pads of silent stealth Gather for all his wealth As the power of his pounce Is governed by both his strength Of spirit and the honesty With which he meets the earth For he owns all of his own pain And paces and growls to warn Away any who seek to steal his fresh **** And diminish him with pretty lies For he owns all his space As it feeds his strength As somewhere in the fury of feasting Lionesses and Lions   We find our freedom For his power explodes like a volcano When his soul meets the earth   As he shakes off all avoidance To seek only truth As streaks of white light And pure Gold glisten in the SUN As the world's projections Reflect and bounce off him There is so much to learn From a beautiful LION
0
Aug 5, 2014
Aug 5, 2014 at 8:17 PM UTC
LION
As the glorious LION Stands strong in stature Radiating with a presence Of Absolute rule The air washed with A bristly respect A natural pride Beams with  beauty He guards the gateway to truth and only the brave may enter He is the king that needs no crown as he holds a royal presence as he sits in his golden coat and main Lies spark combust just bounce off dissolve in all his shine. As broken men become renewed Their fractured parts Collect in the melting *** Of the Lion's  stare As they are engulfed and swallowed In the reservoirs of his strength As the many wounded souls Find themselves restored In his majestic presence As he rattles the very fabric Of this world There is no procrastinating belly Exposed by a lackluster display No one insults his strength By creating a make believe world Or covers him with scaffolding so That they may alter him For he is the finished article And he is never held up or supported With anyone's emotional ropes or strings For he no ones puppet He is never silenced By the Strangle hold of this world Tightened with a multitude of gestures For I hear his ROAR!!!!!!!! His explosive self expression As his throat bursts and beams like the sun Breaking all collars, and his tongue is freed As a thousand trap doors Open up in him   And boulders are lifted and rocks are shattered within the sound of his voice. His Soft pads of silent stealth Gather for all his wealth As the power of his pounce Is governed by both his strength Of spirit and the honesty With which he meets the earth For he owns all of his own pain And paces and growls to warn Away any who seek to steal his fresh **** And diminish him with pretty lies For he owns all his space As it feeds his strength As somewhere in the fury of feasting Lionesses and Lions   We find our freedom For his power explodes like a volcano When his soul meets the earth   As he shakes off all avoidance To seek only truth As streaks of white light And pure Gold glisten in the SUN As the world's projections Reflect and bounce off him There is so much to learn From a beautiful LION
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71
But is it really such a crime? Avoidance, that is. I wouldn't call it isolation, nor anti-social behavior. Perhaps I just enjoy the quiet and the decrease in anxiety a bit more than mindless chatter and having to worry about everything I say. Please, darling,understand this one thing. I'll avoid people quite often until my last breath. Only under this circumstance shall I function semi-correctly. (d.d.b)
0
Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 7:25 PM UTC
social anxiety is a real disorder
Nothings how it looks in fact, maybe the opposite People say I'm energetic When I'm fighting for consciousness Downed NyQuil to solve my imperfections Took Benadryl to sleep Drugs make chatter over the back and forth banter of boredom And action A trip to the hospital Affects the people to care for a minute Hallucinogens fade, but this music it stays No 3G left **** it lets sing Words slurred eyes red I don't give a **** spread love Acceptance And tears of joy The ones that run over the face of a baby boy Mama's proud Baby you're so smart! You're gonna be so successful! Yeah I remember those days Now its nicotine sticks on my lips and E's for my mom to brag about They think I'm lost Am I? Testing to be done Society approved pills to pop And a letter from my aunt Words spread like dye in water I've dropped Down from the heaven of the early years Lucifer can maneuver his way around the city unnoticed A spy who tells lies to himself and greets the people as equal Human again I'd like to be All I want to do is live! But a life's money, family, and a plan Floaters get flushed Couch potatoes get crushed Lazy ***** Ha They just get fat Like these joints everybody wants to roll **** is for beginners but what happens to the pros? No trophy for the taking No stack of gold Just a massive headache And dependence Diet coke doesn't count My sis puts her heart on her sleeve Me I don't even think I have one No wait it's up my *** **** me good **** me long That only love is what turns me on If not Keep out Of my head Or Switch, light Too god **** bright to illuminate these white walls I'm hired to paint 24hrs, 365 days a year, until the day it’s complete Avoidance Births time from time Cuts wrists to elbow Show how mellow I can be Let me cope Every days a new day Born today die tomorrow Next day Wake up Look in the mirror and decide what you'd like to see
0
Jan 17, 2014
Jan 17, 2014 at 4:22 AM UTC
Unedited, 1:04am.
Nothings how it looks in fact, maybe the opposite People say I'm energetic When I'm fighting for consciousness Downed NyQuil to solve my imperfections Took Benadryl to sleep Drugs make chatter over the back and forth banter of boredom And action A trip to the hospital Affects the people to care for a minute Hallucinogens fade, but this music it stays No 3G left **** it lets sing Words slurred eyes red I don't give a **** spread love Acceptance And tears of joy The ones that run over the face of a baby boy Mama's proud Baby you're so smart! You're gonna be so successful! Yeah I remember those days Now its nicotine sticks on my lips and E's for my mom to brag about They think I'm lost Am I? Testing to be done Society approved pills to pop And a letter from my aunt Words spread like dye in water I've dropped Down from the heaven of the early years Lucifer can maneuver his way around the city unnoticed A spy who tells lies to himself and greets the people as equal Human again I'd like to be All I want to do is live! But a life's money, family, and a plan Floaters get flushed Couch potatoes get crushed Lazy ***** Ha They just get fat Like these joints everybody wants to roll **** is for beginners but what happens to the pros? No trophy for the taking No stack of gold Just a massive headache And dependence Diet coke doesn't count My sis puts her heart on her sleeve Me I don't even think I have one No wait it's up my *** **** me good **** me long That only love is what turns me on If not Keep out Of my head Or Switch, light Too god **** bright to illuminate these white walls I'm hired to paint 24hrs, 365 days a year, until the day it’s complete Avoidance Births time from time Cuts wrists to elbow Show how mellow I can be Let me cope Every days a new day Born today die tomorrow Next day Wake up Look in the mirror and decide what you'd like to see
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74
That week nearly a year ago When we didnt speak Each day Disappointment in your son Took you past the point of tears to Pure avoidance Of eye contact, speech, And everything in between Unable to look at me Without steady streams Cascading down your face I thought i had hurt you beyond forgiveness And that week I learned what it would be like to live without you If only you knew the hurt I went though Having caused pain so deep You couldnt even speek to me Feeling your Forgiveness, your love Was like being pardoned of a life Sentence Like being led to the light Out of darkness Like I was a dehydrated desert wanderer You were my water You quenched my thirst You loved me first And I love you in return
0
Oct 4, 2015
Oct 4, 2015 at 12:40 AM UTC
Mother
My couch, Is death, And avoidance is a second language, Ask me do I speak it? Conjoined twins, Of misery and manipulation, No calls, Only cushions and customer's custom complaints, From tomorrow, The phone wont ring, So I'll stay down this road, Listening to headlines and headlights Sing, Moody music dwelling, Where the lies and shame met in between, Cut the cue, end the scene The stage has been rebuilt, We talked like teenagers, And you told me that I've changed, But the same, Still that same number, No more gap, But your smile still kills, Pain with palendromes, We were here before, And so again we, Our fighting saying goodnight, Street lamps in different cities, Static. I'm just fine, Playing my part, My mainstream maybe different, But Obsession has been overcame, By the rising tide of a smile, If the teleprompting signs shine through, Meanwhiles and meditations What can I do, Except hope I'm reading, The Right Script, The couch, It asks, Where have you been? I set down another, chip.
0
Jun 13, 2018
Jun 13, 2018 at 1:41 AM UTC
Then and Now: A Mishmash of Feelings and You Knows & Who Knows
Like a captive, I capture rapture wrapping around stakes that matter Joan of Arc battered Also tattered but, easily dismissive Refracted from fractured prominent phrases people play with Distinctly persuasive and evasive, dressed boyishly attractive, lax stature, dawning armor crafted by absence as if asked about it- I’m drifted Protection is principle prerequisite, when fire is lit I sort of implore your aorta before it’s incinerated to ashes Dethatched as a habit, with swords or hatchets crafted to singe heartstrings that attached it While I slash slick Rick as a quick fix, To fend for pretend pretenses or presumed tricks, I can’t quit Cause I hit lips against hash spliffs fashioned with dashes of passion all while rationing fireball cinnamon sips Martyr to avoidance I gaze at fabled dazed gossipers galvanizing grips on gritty grapevines while licking warning labels through smoke haze on blurred lines Capably unstable Other eyes attending scandal circles able to shout lies and rekindle handed arguments on tables with locked smiles stay boxed in Avidly amiable Searching for counterparts when combusted or branded Toying with matches loses meaning when rules reseed Those vagabonds claim love is some all end hard bent to mend what the same above can’t comprehend. Breaking boredom, I pillage pillows with night terrors And ardent arsonists yearn for flames that churn, turn, liquefy and learn learned thoughts and smoldered feelings Completely complacent Melting in one another they are completing each other like two candles tryst true at a wedding day However later the blaze is severed, smoke sears, and charred black wick stands alone for them. Aggressive and progressive. As for me never pleading, fire forever fleets to streets between iron bars I built that cage in deep heat and seep dire dreams once desired Suppose I’m a skeptic Roasted or disconnected Just jaded, just met you Always over it too soon Burnt but I’m amused. I’m useful.
0
Jun 9, 2014
Jun 9, 2014 at 11:59 PM UTC
Martyr
Like a captive, I capture rapture wrapping around stakes that matter Joan of Arc battered Also tattered but, easily dismissive Refracted from fractured prominent phrases people play with Distinctly persuasive and evasive, dressed boyishly attractive, lax stature, dawning armor crafted by absence as if asked about it- I’m drifted Protection is principle prerequisite, when fire is lit I sort of implore your aorta before it’s incinerated to ashes Dethatched as a habit, with swords or hatchets crafted to singe heartstrings that attached it While I slash slick Rick as a quick fix, To fend for pretend pretenses or presumed tricks, I can’t quit Cause I hit lips against hash spliffs fashioned with dashes of passion all while rationing fireball cinnamon sips Martyr to avoidance I gaze at fabled dazed gossipers galvanizing grips on gritty grapevines while licking warning labels through smoke haze on blurred lines Capably unstable Other eyes attending scandal circles able to shout lies and rekindle handed arguments on tables with locked smiles stay boxed in Avidly amiable Searching for counterparts when combusted or branded Toying with matches loses meaning when rules reseed Those vagabonds claim love is some all end hard bent to mend what the same above can’t comprehend. Breaking boredom, I pillage pillows with night terrors And ardent arsonists yearn for flames that churn, turn, liquefy and learn learned thoughts and smoldered feelings Completely complacent Melting in one another they are completing each other like two candles tryst true at a wedding day However later the blaze is severed, smoke sears, and charred black wick stands alone for them. Aggressive and progressive. As for me never pleading, fire forever fleets to streets between iron bars I built that cage in deep heat and seep dire dreams once desired Suppose I’m a skeptic Roasted or disconnected Just jaded, just met you Always over it too soon Burnt but I’m amused. I’m useful.
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34
We are evenly matched Or so I thought So I let down my guard Thinking I'm alright. But I placed my bishop Diagonal three spaces Perfect position to put you in check Realizing that I've made a mistake You move your knight Two spaces forward, one to the right Halting my advances Leaving only my queen To defend the pride of her king I defend from your every move Until you capture her. Leaving my king exposed And defenseless You marvel at it but Are quick to place her with the others you have Captured and controlled My king scurries Space by space Anxious to avoid The inevitable capture I am exhausted Avoidance of you is utterly impossible So I give in I tip over my king in total surrender How quick you are to ****** it into your hands You revel in your victory Clinging to my king My last piece My last hope But how quick you are to discard it How quickly you let it tumble down onto the pile But I forgot.. To you This is just a game of chess
0
Apr 2, 2016
Apr 2, 2016 at 9:15 AM UTC
Chess
Thoughts racing, heart chasing. You're mad, I'm sad. Can't stop shaking, there's no faking When I see you in the halls, I stall, hide behind a pillar, a friend, anything Just to avoid the awkward eye contact. I'm not good at confrontations, at the mere thought of it I flee.. You might think I'm crazy or immature, But when you told me to stop talking to you my mind went a blur.. My friends say you're overreacting, over something so small. I fear you'll dump me, leaving me lonely.. I'm so sorry.. Please forgive me?
0
Apr 5, 2018
Apr 5, 2018 at 3:56 PM UTC
Avoidance
What’s the difference between escapism and avoidance? “There isn’t one, they’re synonyms” I used to think that too Because I have been lying to myself for the past three years “It’s just a quick break” “I’m just winding down and then I’ll get things done” And yet Night after night I find myself lying in bed at 1:30 am Staring blankly at my phone Watching anything I can get my hands on to escape And scrambling the next day to get anything I avoided done I think that I’m simply just escaping into another world To take a break from reality When really I’m avoiding everything that I need to get done I’ve been lying to myself for 1128 days today Because I cannot get myself motivated to do anything I tell myself that I'll get it done in a minute But I know it won't be done until weeks after it was due I thought it was simply just escapism But I am a devout avoidance practicer There is a difference between escapism and avoidance Because escapism is a temporary break to set your mind straight And avoidance is escaping everything at any cost.
0
Mar 20, 2019
Mar 20, 2019 at 5:10 PM UTC
the difference between escapism and avoidance
"I'm just tired..." Excuse one for the silence that ensues. She listens as he tells her he refuses to hurt her ...even though she aches as the words leave his lips. Triple chocolate chocolate chip frosting is all she wants. "I didn't sleep well..." Excuse two for the agitated responses. Her best friend has distanced herself ...but expects her to just sit by and wait to be wanted again. Triple chocolate chocolate chip frosting gags her. "It was a rough night..." Excuse three for the silent tears that stream down her face. Her father tells her she's a spoiled, stupid ***** ...but acts like he's a genius that's greater than God. Food loses its appeal entirely. "I don't need a mirror to see myself..." Excuse four for her avoidance of reflective surfaces. Her mirror has become her worst enemy ...reflecting her flaws and screaming her issues. She no longer has an appetite. "I'm fine" Excuse five... and six for all the things she does in a day. She's breaking, crying, and dying ...but its been repeated so many times her friends have begun to believe it. Food now makes her want to throw up. "Excuses, Excuses" seven, eight, nine, ten for all the things she needs to deny her mask of a smile makes everyone believe them all ...no one realizing how unhappy she is she eats...but only because she doesn't want them to worry.
0
May 6, 2015
May 6, 2015 at 3:08 PM UTC
Excuses, Excuses
walking out of the liquor store wine bottles double ****** asphalt concrete curb stone the great expanse of the universe the mundane welded water tight that Escher print of ribboned minds personal accounting money as abstraction automobile documents layers of bureaus the great and powerful realm of ideas shared fallen history the strike of the pen ideals ethics the avoidance of sin cold is coming warmth is rare plug into existential wetness yet suffer banality Friday, November 1, 2013
0
Nov 1, 2013
Nov 1, 2013 at 12:06 PM UTC
bean sprout
My neck noosed My legs loosed I witness the tragic It seems so emphatic I feel entropy Enter me Centering Around love and pain I wear gloves of shame Toxicity taints touch My reaction is to cautiously recoil For I feel a great punch When I expect them to be loyal A tear rolls down my cheek Navigating scars Like a man who is meek Navigating bars It starts and stops Then keeps going The tears drop From what I'm knowing That my time is evaporating Dealing with the exasperating I feel I can be caring I just need the chance We'll see how I'm fairing On the end of your lance Penetrating deeply The pain is unceasing Like a thousand bee stings While you stand there feasting Making me feel alive From the pain inside I guess things could always be worse Sometimes that feels like a curse Because I have problems all the same But it's true The sum of our troubles equal this game That we lose Even though I'd rather deal with *** and silence Than to be vexed by violence They're all just ways of imposing our will Whether it's through who we birth or **** Conflict is how we get our fill Every day a different fire drill We hate each other We date each other We underrate each other To deflate each other Pain is used as a tool Until blood lays in a pool These things that annoy us Are met by avoidance These things compound Until I can't be unwound I live in a world of contending intentions It's a world of our own selfish invention A world that burns bright So I can't sleep When day turns to night I hear death creep Seeking to take me from a life I never asked for But I'm grateful to have Life is about experimenting with opening doors And I'm stuck in the lab
0
Feb 18, 2018
Feb 18, 2018 at 9:22 PM UTC
Conflict
My neck noosed My legs loosed I witness the tragic It seems so emphatic I feel entropy Enter me Centering Around love and pain I wear gloves of shame Toxicity taints touch My reaction is to cautiously recoil For I feel a great punch When I expect them to be loyal A tear rolls down my cheek Navigating scars Like a man who is meek Navigating bars It starts and stops Then keeps going The tears drop From what I'm knowing That my time is evaporating Dealing with the exasperating I feel I can be caring I just need the chance We'll see how I'm fairing On the end of your lance Penetrating deeply The pain is unceasing Like a thousand bee stings While you stand there feasting Making me feel alive From the pain inside I guess things could always be worse Sometimes that feels like a curse Because I have problems all the same But it's true The sum of our troubles equal this game That we lose Even though I'd rather deal with *** and silence Than to be vexed by violence They're all just ways of imposing our will Whether it's through who we birth or **** Conflict is how we get our fill Every day a different fire drill We hate each other We date each other We underrate each other To deflate each other Pain is used as a tool Until blood lays in a pool These things that annoy us Are met by avoidance These things compound Until I can't be unwound I live in a world of contending intentions It's a world of our own selfish invention A world that burns bright So I can't sleep When day turns to night I hear death creep Seeking to take me from a life I never asked for But I'm grateful to have Life is about experimenting with opening doors And I'm stuck in the lab
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65
Hypocracy Mandatory. Gullibility Mandatory. Insensitivity Mandatory. Obesity Mandatory. Immaturity Mandatory. Childishness Mandatory. Monarchy Mandatory. Capitalism Mandatory. Conservatism Mandatory. Terrorism Mandatory. Corruption Mandatory. Incompetence Mandatory. Socialism Mandatory. Dictatorship Mandatory. Militarism Mandatory. Liberalism Mandatory. Bhuddism Mandatory. Islam Mandatory. Christianity Mandatory. Judaism Mandatory. Hinduism Mandatory. Vedism Mandatory. Hatred Mandatory. Anarchy Mandatory. Jealousy Mandatory. Nationalism Mandatory. Fascism Mandatory. Racism Mandatory. Lies Mandatory. Hypocracy Mandatory. Obesity Mandatory. Heart Disease Mandatory. Cancer Mandatory. Idiocy Mandatory. Eco-Nazism Mandatory. All of us Humans. Of all Five Colours. Wherever we be. Whatever we do. However we "see" ourselves. What do we call ourselves now?. How about shallow nitpickers?. Or celebrity obsessed morons?. Or religious hypocrits?. Or Democrats?. Or Socialists?. Or Revolutionaries. Or just plain "nice folks"?. Or supporters of oligarchy  policies?. Or immature backpackers?. Or government assassins of integrity?. Or juicy *********** Or swift tongued ******** ticklers?. no matter how many lie dead or injured as a result of our obfuscation and avoidance. As if poets have the explanation to life except in strings of meaningless associated but fine sounding words. When "poets" are the voluntary slaves of Mind and Conditioned Identity.. As if poets had the ***** to go beyond all these things. As if . Scrape the Moons suface and you will find a delicate Castello Blue Cream Cheese.
0
Jul 3, 2014
Jul 3, 2014 at 4:49 PM UTC
Title Optional
Hypocracy Mandatory. Gullibility Mandatory. Insensitivity Mandatory. Obesity Mandatory. Immaturity Mandatory. Childishness Mandatory. Monarchy Mandatory. Capitalism Mandatory. Conservatism Mandatory. Terrorism Mandatory. Corruption Mandatory. Incompetence Mandatory. Socialism Mandatory. Dictatorship Mandatory. Militarism Mandatory. Liberalism Mandatory. Bhuddism Mandatory. Islam Mandatory. Christianity Mandatory. Judaism Mandatory. Hinduism Mandatory. Vedism Mandatory. Hatred Mandatory. Anarchy Mandatory. Jealousy Mandatory. Nationalism Mandatory. Fascism Mandatory. Racism Mandatory. Lies Mandatory. Hypocracy Mandatory. Obesity Mandatory. Heart Disease Mandatory. Cancer Mandatory. Idiocy Mandatory. Eco-Nazism Mandatory. All of us Humans. Of all Five Colours. Wherever we be. Whatever we do. However we "see" ourselves. What do we call ourselves now?. How about shallow nitpickers?. Or celebrity obsessed morons?. Or religious hypocrits?. Or Democrats?. Or Socialists?. Or Revolutionaries. Or just plain "nice folks"?. Or supporters of oligarchy  policies?. Or immature backpackers?. Or government assassins of integrity?. Or juicy *********** Or swift tongued ******** ticklers?. no matter how many lie dead or injured as a result of our obfuscation and avoidance. As if poets have the explanation to life except in strings of meaningless associated but fine sounding words. When "poets" are the voluntary slaves of Mind and Conditioned Identity.. As if poets had the ***** to go beyond all these things. As if . Scrape the Moons suface and you will find a delicate Castello Blue Cream Cheese.
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63
I hear a calling But I prefer falling So I practice avoidance It's a void dance To an annoyed trance To avoid a glance Or taking a chance People take pieces they don't plan on returning The only replacement is the sensation of burning In this hell With no one to tell Because I locked my heart Which felt like a good start Until loneliness pervaded my soul And I can't climb out of this hole I create isolation When there's no inspiration I discontinue integration And go on permanent vacation I watch movies To feel groovy I write Out of sight I play video games To avoid shame I decide to act lame So no one asks my name I begin to feel sour In my lonely tower I used to think independence was power Until I found myself in my darkest hour With only friends to help The same friends I put on a shelf That are now mythical like an elf Is life just giving all my pieces away? Disconnection leaves my life grey But if I decide to stay My love they will slay They will toy with my emotions Until I feel their encroachment But I'd rather have a toy's chance Than live my life in a void dance
0
Nov 27, 2017
Nov 27, 2017 at 11:28 AM UTC
Avoidance
Dad this suitcase hurts I don't like it It makes me feel unwanted All of my favorite things fit in this suitcase All of my things stay zipped in this suitcase I can fit in this suitcase If I can fit in this suitcase Why do I go anywhere Why do I sleep here I have no home Everywhere is home My suitcase goes everywhere with me And I know this may hurt for you to hear Because you never liked the suitcase either But, "you have to pick and choose your battles" right? You have to let some things go Isn't that how you say it? How does it feel to let this one go How'd it feel to let me go Don't be so surprised Nothing wins in a battle with avoidance No one holds court with the jester And no one laughs at the comic who didn't get on stage T-ball starts in the spring pops Sign me up I want to learn how to play I want to wear baseball hats And run the wrong way around the bases Ooh I would thoroughly enjoy to miss the ball entirely off the tea Maybe even fall down trying to field a grounder Will you get me a blizzard when the games is over? Will you wake up to play catch with me before work? Please sign me up I want to play I want to swing Swing pops Pick this one Pick and choose this one I hate this suitcase It has wheels I can go anywhere with it I don't want to go anywhere I want to be home.
0
Feb 27, 2012
Feb 27, 2012 at 4:19 AM UTC
Suitcase
If you were to ask me what boredom was, I’d tell you were boring and to stop asking stupid questions, but if you really persisted, I would tell you boredom is the tick tock on the white clock on the white wall of our English classroom. it’s the thrill of seeing how many dried crackers you can cram into your mouth before your mouth becomes a cracked and dried desert. Boredom is making up haikus, Alone but not quite knowing, How many syllables go on each line Boredom is haikus. Boredom is the decapitation of innocent grass blades as you listen to an unenthused sports teacher the blood of your unwitting enemies splattered on your fingers. Boredom is this boring poem Now you were never one for boredom; you enjoyed sitting on the grass, getting a soggy *** you enjoyed the crunch of crackers snapping on your tongue, you really enjoyed and I still do not know why making up haikus you enjoyed the long languorous spaces between lines... and I guess that really was just you. But recently the silence has been getting short its rudely interrupted by forced laughs and nervous glances from eyes that recently went shopping You jump at every crunch or crack, scared of well… I don’t know . And your poetry, Well, you barely write anymore because you just can’t seem to muster up the energy and you’re just tired and its nothing to worry about and it doesn’t matter anyway because you have an English essay due tomorrow yeah- And the grass misses your *** And I miss you And there’s someone in your place, a lethargic parody, too frightened to pick up the phone, frightened by nothing at all There’s a black hole in the shape of a friend hidden behind the comets of comedy and asteroids of avoidance there’s a small hole I reach in… grasping for a hand, I catch glimpses. tufts of hair. old coffee smiles but… nothing so, I try again I reach in, grasping for a hand, or even a bone I catch glimpses of skin, hair, teeth, bone. Nothing and each time I throw myself into the silent abyss, batter past the comets and asteroids and reach into that dark expanse I find less and less, I miss you I am right outside, whenever you’re ready to, we can talk a bit I’m trying my best , and I really care for you , but haikus are dumb accept it, it’s true. The spot of grass is waiting right where you left off, the crackers in the tin are there just waiting to be scoffed. if ever in that silence you feel yourself alone just know that in my house, you’ve found yourself a home.
0
Feb 25, 2021
Feb 25, 2021 at 3:53 PM UTC
Boring
If you were to ask me what boredom was, I’d tell you were boring and to stop asking stupid questions, but if you really persisted, I would tell you boredom is the tick tock on the white clock on the white wall of our English classroom. it’s the thrill of seeing how many dried crackers you can cram into your mouth before your mouth becomes a cracked and dried desert. Boredom is making up haikus, Alone but not quite knowing, How many syllables go on each line Boredom is haikus. Boredom is the decapitation of innocent grass blades as you listen to an unenthused sports teacher the blood of your unwitting enemies splattered on your fingers. Boredom is this boring poem Now you were never one for boredom; you enjoyed sitting on the grass, getting a soggy *** you enjoyed the crunch of crackers snapping on your tongue, you really enjoyed and I still do not know why making up haikus you enjoyed the long languorous spaces between lines... and I guess that really was just you. But recently the silence has been getting short its rudely interrupted by forced laughs and nervous glances from eyes that recently went shopping You jump at every crunch or crack, scared of well… I don’t know . And your poetry, Well, you barely write anymore because you just can’t seem to muster up the energy and you’re just tired and its nothing to worry about and it doesn’t matter anyway because you have an English essay due tomorrow yeah- And the grass misses your *** And I miss you And there’s someone in your place, a lethargic parody, too frightened to pick up the phone, frightened by nothing at all There’s a black hole in the shape of a friend hidden behind the comets of comedy and asteroids of avoidance there’s a small hole I reach in… grasping for a hand, I catch glimpses. tufts of hair. old coffee smiles but… nothing so, I try again I reach in, grasping for a hand, or even a bone I catch glimpses of skin, hair, teeth, bone. Nothing and each time I throw myself into the silent abyss, batter past the comets and asteroids and reach into that dark expanse I find less and less, I miss you I am right outside, whenever you’re ready to, we can talk a bit I’m trying my best , and I really care for you , but haikus are dumb accept it, it’s true. The spot of grass is waiting right where you left off, the crackers in the tin are there just waiting to be scoffed. if ever in that silence you feel yourself alone just know that in my house, you’ve found yourself a home.
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52
On Fridays, I cannot have you. Though the faraway look combs through the glances, the heads lowering and longing On Fridays, I cannot have you. The icicle street of perturbing yellow parallel lines and molasses traffic that seems to rake the people across pavement into curvatures of avoidance keep me running. On Fridays, I cannot have you. I repeat it, a gesturing phrase, recurring, as I watch the transcendent glow, a denouement to a one-sentence story. On Fridays, I cannot have you. Could have: (What will save the moment in untickable preservation?) On Fridays, I cannot have you.
0
Oct 18, 2013
Oct 18, 2013 at 1:09 PM UTC
On Fridays, I Cannot Have You
Little ones they run, forever young, Avoiding the pain while strung Upon their good times with glib tongues. Confide, Relied, And Died. Slip, Slide, Rip, Glide. Never could they see my bleeding soul That dripped the color charcoal, Yet for me, there was no extol. The light shone through those eyes And what it does to me defies All life has shown me it implies. Confide, Relied, And Died. Slip, Slide, Rip, Glide. I fight the demon with these words To ensure the avoidance of hazards Of the knife, in hope of being lovebirds. Sighed, Relied, And Guided. Pried, Tried, Beside Her, I Flied.
0
Jul 2, 2011
Jul 2, 2011 at 8:30 AM UTC
Died Before I Flied
remember... when you were young, very young, recently untethered from proximal parental strings... that liberated freshman rushing into a .... cave of independent studies and uninhibited sexuality... that mulligan phase of impulse and irrationality and...yes...experimentation... of wide-eyed science interns  with mother's cheeks, daddy's visa and the best animal-testing lab on the planet... with live uncontrolled studies of sleep deprivation, orgiastic tolerance, *** toxicity and the effect of extreme jello-shooting on graduation rates... and, of course, the ultra-rad LUG/GUG philosophy, the ultimate pregnancy-avoidance plan guaranteed or your STD back... then you got a degree, a real job, and a surreal 5-figure student loan balance... or was it 6? or maybe you just dropped out like bill, steve or mark... and started a revolution... ~ P (7/21/2013)
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Jul 21, 2013
Jul 21, 2013 at 3:59 PM UTC
Revolution 101...
solely engrossed, slow to emotions prone to be a soul that is broken lowly focus, frozen devotion vocal notions erode when unspoken doing fine, i lie with a smile while i fight my own private trial i clear my head, i'm alright for a while but a mind that is clear is a mind in denial goal, avoidance of a throat opened my vocal notions will go unspoken choking on the voices stolen prone to be a soul that is broken
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Oct 13, 2015
Oct 13, 2015 at 9:33 PM UTC
unspoken
There are things I try to avoid many things in fact I try to avoid the creepy guy staring at me on the bus I try to avoid my teachers outside of school I try to avoid gum on the sidewalk I try to avoid you sometimes Sometimes to protect myself Other times simply to do it There are things I try to avoid one of them is you and I am sorry you have fallen into that category but I am not sorry for the reason why
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Jun 5, 2014
Jun 5, 2014 at 9:05 PM UTC
Apologies to Avoidance
I can tell you about the girl. Her freckles were beige constellations, and her voice was husky and rasped like birds before the churning of a storm. She was weird and laughed at everything I said - which made her even weirder, because I'm only funny in certain photos and in certain clothes. Her left arm was covered in scars and burns. "As you can tell, I'm right handed," she said. Arthritis surrounded her wrists and other joints, and all I could think about were my grandmother's arthritis crippled hands, and if the girl would thank the arthritis, one day, for no longer allowing her to self-harm. One of her feet were bigger than the other and, when she walked, she would lose balance. "I'm not sure if the world is too fast or if I'm too slow. Then again," she winked, "it's probably because of my feet." I liked her because she treated me like a person, but didn't take me as seriously as I took myself. I struggled with self-respect and she struggled with a drug addiction. Her arm was needle park and sometimes she missed ****** more than she missed me. She wasn't the type of girl to shake without her drugs - she'd, instead, talk about them like they were old friends. She understood them more than she understood herself. After a few months of *** and, "I'll be sad when you leave,"s, I called her my girlfriend and she smiled. Flecks of speckled angles, bright, I saw her, first, she accepted my night. Five days later, she overdosed on morphine. I picked her up. Her eyes were glazed over. I said, "I love you, but this is ******** She cried and said, "Forgive me." I lain in bed, next to her - next to the avoidance of death. She asked how I was and I said, "Everything I write is **** but I'm glad I can write ****** poetry about how we'll be okay." She asked, "We will be okay, right?" I hope.
0
May 9, 2015
May 9, 2015 at 2:36 AM UTC
I can tell you about the girl
I can tell you about the girl. Her freckles were beige constellations, and her voice was husky and rasped like birds before the churning of a storm. She was weird and laughed at everything I said - which made her even weirder, because I'm only funny in certain photos and in certain clothes. Her left arm was covered in scars and burns. "As you can tell, I'm right handed," she said. Arthritis surrounded her wrists and other joints, and all I could think about were my grandmother's arthritis crippled hands, and if the girl would thank the arthritis, one day, for no longer allowing her to self-harm. One of her feet were bigger than the other and, when she walked, she would lose balance. "I'm not sure if the world is too fast or if I'm too slow. Then again," she winked, "it's probably because of my feet." I liked her because she treated me like a person, but didn't take me as seriously as I took myself. I struggled with self-respect and she struggled with a drug addiction. Her arm was needle park and sometimes she missed ****** more than she missed me. She wasn't the type of girl to shake without her drugs - she'd, instead, talk about them like they were old friends. She understood them more than she understood herself. After a few months of *** and, "I'll be sad when you leave,"s, I called her my girlfriend and she smiled. Flecks of speckled angles, bright, I saw her, first, she accepted my night. Five days later, she overdosed on morphine. I picked her up. Her eyes were glazed over. I said, "I love you, but this is ******** She cried and said, "Forgive me." I lain in bed, next to her - next to the avoidance of death. She asked how I was and I said, "Everything I write is **** but I'm glad I can write ****** poetry about how we'll be okay." She asked, "We will be okay, right?" I hope.
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57
Don't get mad. Don't get mad. Don't get mad. Immaturity knows not what it says. It doesn't realize. It doesn't realize the enormity of being a drain on society. It doesn't realize the hypocrisy In criticizing me. I'm the one with a job. I'm the one with a home. I'm not the one who's willing to drop mad cash For a cyber unreality, used as Avoidance behavior For two days And then thrown away. Immaturity needs to grow up And learn from me. Not the other way around.
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Jun 8, 2010
Jun 8, 2010 at 11:19 AM UTC
on maturity and decisions