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"beeep" poems
BOOM! The explosion rumbles the Earth, shaking so nothing stands still. BRRIING! Telephones screaming in ears, then, dead silence. BLINK-BLINK! BLINK-BLINK! Car signals flicker, trying to rush where they belong. BEEEP! Fire alarms start going off in every home. BOOOP! Fire engines start roaring down the streets. BLAST! Water hits the burning buildings with bacon-like sizzles.
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Mar 21, 2013
Mar 21, 2013 at 7:53 PM UTC
Onomatopoeia Stars with a Burning B
Dear heart. I know you're somewhere and it scares me that I can't find you. Did I lose you to that boy I spoke about all the time? Did I lose you to friends that left? Did I lose you to the pain you felt? The pain I ignored? They pain I misjudged? Hello? Are you there? I can’t hear you beating anymore? I know you're out there and I need to talk to you. I need to tell you how I feel. Please answer me! Maybe you're gone because I hurt you. I didn't mean to. I just wanted somebody to talk to. Now you're gone and I don't even know for how long that will be. all I'm saying is that when you learn to forgive me I hope you'll come back. I need you. I can't live without you. Continue to beat, because eventually I'll find you.
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Sep 17, 2018
Sep 17, 2018 at 4:58 AM UTC
Heart. Beat. Beat. Beeep. Beat.
dreams swirl, tranquil in my mind sharply interrupted denial, snooze realization chomp chomp chomp ziiiiip slam clink beeep rattle rattle rattle STOP REQUESTED groan, unload. walk fast eyes low 12...click...13...click...6... open slam walk faster, required smiles ffft jot jot jot retain it retain it gone who is there? oh, you again. you again? you... again. swallow walk, slower. bonjour, ça va et toi? memorize mesmerized click click rattle rattle rattle sigh unload. saunter and release.
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Oct 8, 2013
Oct 8, 2013 at 10:45 PM UTC
the progression of a school day
beepbeep beep  beep   beeep   beeep beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
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Mar 28, 2015
Mar 28, 2015 at 6:10 PM UTC
lifeline
When the words first came out of his mouth I was squeezing her hand My brain was in jeopardy of knocking down the very last domino to the apocalypse Our tongues paralyzed Our hearts pizza dough being thoroughly kneaded with Titanium knuckles Organs being scrunched up like those As Seen On TV pocket garden hoses Then a small shy sound is heard inside my cranium A quivering voice shyly saying "May, it can't be that bad. It's just like Surfing. Surfing in the wipeout zone" That one timid voice paused all chaos Each domino standing back up, Resuming its natural and rightful spot I turned to Morgan and smiled a big goofy grin And as I grinned I said "Morgan, love, it's just like surfing. And I know there is no board that you can't ride." She then looked back up at me and laughed. "Okay then. Come on, the ocean is waiting for us." Morgan paddled out into the calm ocean and there was no hesitance to start the wild ride that we she embarked on Because we knew that it couldn't wait. It took months before balancing became manageable, for that's what eight rounds of chemotherapy can do to a person Like oxygen corroding the Statue of Liberty in the rough rain storms of New York And as much of a rigorous athlete she was, she could not avoid the first gnarly tidal wave, or those following in its footsteps And then there was the last wave that glided into a series of tubes. At any moment she could collapse within I remember in the break between the first and second tubes our wishes were granted We were married in the tiny chapel inside the hospital. And I kissed her I kissed her radioactive lips and her puffy steroid chipmunk cheeks I hugged and caressed her bony body with tubes all attached I kissed her for the last time In the third tube, right before her eternal coma she asked me a question. "I had to wipe out sometime didn't I?" I wept a monsoon on months end When it was suggested to terminate life support , through barrels of tears I nodded only thinking about that one question. Yes Morgan. Yes. "You had a good run" I say holding her hand as her monitor went beep beeep beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
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Apr 18, 2016
Apr 18, 2016 at 6:32 PM UTC
My Wife Died Drowning in a Wipeout Zone
When the words first came out of his mouth I was squeezing her hand My brain was in jeopardy of knocking down the very last domino to the apocalypse Our tongues paralyzed Our hearts pizza dough being thoroughly kneaded with Titanium knuckles Organs being scrunched up like those As Seen On TV pocket garden hoses Then a small shy sound is heard inside my cranium A quivering voice shyly saying "May, it can't be that bad. It's just like Surfing. Surfing in the wipeout zone" That one timid voice paused all chaos Each domino standing back up, Resuming its natural and rightful spot I turned to Morgan and smiled a big goofy grin And as I grinned I said "Morgan, love, it's just like surfing. And I know there is no board that you can't ride." She then looked back up at me and laughed. "Okay then. Come on, the ocean is waiting for us." Morgan paddled out into the calm ocean and there was no hesitance to start the wild ride that we she embarked on Because we knew that it couldn't wait. It took months before balancing became manageable, for that's what eight rounds of chemotherapy can do to a person Like oxygen corroding the Statue of Liberty in the rough rain storms of New York And as much of a rigorous athlete she was, she could not avoid the first gnarly tidal wave, or those following in its footsteps And then there was the last wave that glided into a series of tubes. At any moment she could collapse within I remember in the break between the first and second tubes our wishes were granted We were married in the tiny chapel inside the hospital. And I kissed her I kissed her radioactive lips and her puffy steroid chipmunk cheeks I hugged and caressed her bony body with tubes all attached I kissed her for the last time In the third tube, right before her eternal coma she asked me a question. "I had to wipe out sometime didn't I?" I wept a monsoon on months end When it was suggested to terminate life support , through barrels of tears I nodded only thinking about that one question. Yes Morgan. Yes. "You had a good run" I say holding her hand as her monitor went beep beeep beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
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