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"blocked" poems
Bouncing An orange ball Repeatedly against the floor. Fake left. Run right. Pass. Reverse. Shoot. Miss. Rebound. Repeat. We must all be mad, For we are doing The same thing, Over and over again, And expecting a different result. Lose the ball. Run down the court. Fast break. Sprint. Shot blocked. Run back. We run ourselves Out. To put a Big orange ball In a small white net. And love every minute of it. Back on offense. Call the play. Set a pick. Roll to the basket. Get the ball. Shoot. Get a point. I don't know What I would do Without this madness This again and again This over and over It may be mad, But it makes me happy.
0
May 26, 2015
May 26, 2015 at 6:12 PM UTC
Basketball
Tonight I missed a shot with nostalgia because of myself. I've become such a slave to my phone that the flashing colours in the sky could not, would not bother me. Everything except for the device shining in my palms was blocked out like a voice I didn't want to hear in the first place, Except I DID want to hear it. I want know about everything that is happening around me without burying my face so deeply into Google to find the answers I'm searching for. Nothing ever happens to me because I'm too busy in the comfort of my own home, upon my own couch, on my own phone worrying about the next Facebook status and whether or not it will be entertaining or in need of a dose of an opinion that is my own. I recognize that I have my own personal "cell"-mate that will follow me wherever I go as long as I don't forget it on my kitchen counter. I am shackled to my cellphone. It takes me in handcuffs daily, arresting me at my own free will. A policemen of such small character, yet so many brains. And I already know my rights. I already know my rights because I've researched them enough times with my mobile text book to have them memorized. You have the right to post a status, anything you say can and will be taken out of context. You have a right to an opinion, if you do not have an opinion one will be appointed to you by your desire to impress those whom share a friendship with you. I am a servant to technology. It's as though it is a part of my anatomy. If it's not one item of electronics it's another and it has my full undivided attention. As connected as we are, we have all become disconnected. No one talks anymore. Word of mouth has become word of texting. Important pieces of information are shared via the internet because it's easier to get it out there all at once instead of saying it multiple times. I sadly succumb to every chime I am beckoned with as it demands I answer whomever has interupted the surfing and scrolling and sharing and liking and commenting and posting... I put my phone down in disbelief. Now tell me, "What's on your mind?"
0
Jul 5, 2015
Jul 5, 2015 at 12:07 AM UTC
Victims of Technological Abuse.
Tonight I missed a shot with nostalgia because of myself. I've become such a slave to my phone that the flashing colours in the sky could not, would not bother me. Everything except for the device shining in my palms was blocked out like a voice I didn't want to hear in the first place, Except I DID want to hear it. I want know about everything that is happening around me without burying my face so deeply into Google to find the answers I'm searching for. Nothing ever happens to me because I'm too busy in the comfort of my own home, upon my own couch, on my own phone worrying about the next Facebook status and whether or not it will be entertaining or in need of a dose of an opinion that is my own. I recognize that I have my own personal "cell"-mate that will follow me wherever I go as long as I don't forget it on my kitchen counter. I am shackled to my cellphone. It takes me in handcuffs daily, arresting me at my own free will. A policemen of such small character, yet so many brains. And I already know my rights. I already know my rights because I've researched them enough times with my mobile text book to have them memorized. You have the right to post a status, anything you say can and will be taken out of context. You have a right to an opinion, if you do not have an opinion one will be appointed to you by your desire to impress those whom share a friendship with you. I am a servant to technology. It's as though it is a part of my anatomy. If it's not one item of electronics it's another and it has my full undivided attention. As connected as we are, we have all become disconnected. No one talks anymore. Word of mouth has become word of texting. Important pieces of information are shared via the internet because it's easier to get it out there all at once instead of saying it multiple times. I sadly succumb to every chime I am beckoned with as it demands I answer whomever has interupted the surfing and scrolling and sharing and liking and commenting and posting... I put my phone down in disbelief. Now tell me, "What's on your mind?"
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36
I made a promise to myself long before, That never again would I write no more, Because I only felt Darkness... I sit at a crossroads and no matter which way I look, Nor would it matter which direction I took, Because I only saw Darkness... I await a door to be opened but all remain locked, From any such light my sight seems to be blocked, I can feel the Darkness... Being the good samaritan will get you nowhere in this life, Nice guys finish last in my back hangs out a knife, I only see Darkness... As much as I pray to the Light, There is absolutely no light in my sight, I only see Darkness... Is the Light truly your friend, Because every day just feels like the end, I feel only Darkness... Faith, Hope and Love, I could use some help from above, I see only Darkness... When I search my body for my soul, But think long ago the Darkness has stole, I must have lost it to the Darkness... I pray but I see no light at the end, I guess that Darkness is my friend, I can feel the Darkness... In a world of black and white, When that road is the only one that feels right, Time to embrace the Darkness......    © P.I. 2014
0
Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 4:23 AM UTC
Darkness
i guess they could call it a 'solar eclipse' when we crossed paths and i blocked your world you were brighter than me with your endless glow fiercer with your fire i was just cold and gray with my pale light reflecting your luminosity legend has it that this phenomenon was considered unlucky and i was your thorn among your rose-filled life i reckon you were getting tired as i stood in your way and bothered you endlessly and just like any ordinary 'solar eclipse' this would all have to end and it eventually did
0
Feb 17, 2014
Feb 17, 2014 at 12:10 PM UTC
Solar Eclipse
She had a needle ***** pin for his dream balloon He laughed at her faith Mocked it Loathed it for what he perceived It had done to him Long before she ever came around This was something that she never knew But what she did know was enough She had a Mason jar for his unearned tears She kept a wooden box full of nails To hold up the boards That blocked the sun And kept the birds out He wanted to jump off a mountain cliff To feel free in the fall To prove her wrong She had a cat of nine tails and a whiplash smile When he asked her to dance she said it wasn't her style
0
Sep 14, 2010
Sep 14, 2010 at 7:03 AM UTC
LoveBirds
Throat chakra ******* blocked Happiness set back Marijuana is in Me pushing For something Alcohol on the brink of my lips! Let me ******* breathe. Let me take a ******* break. Let me sink into a ******* hole. Let me fly out of the ******* sky- FREE ME! FREE ME! FREE ME! Paranoia is on set ******* slenderman or saints I can't be soothed! I can't be stopped! I was made for greatness I was made for better than this My heart beats with the power of our people Thumping with thoughts from ancestors I ******* feel it What the **** am I feeling? Let it out! Let it out! Let it out! ******* Let. It. Go. **** Use me Feel me FEEL ME Borders untouched Inlands unkempt Swirling clouds of unstoppable chaos Raining down with compassionate entities They say welcome We say Welcome Welcome Welcome They sing it We scream it We breathe everything into existence They say its about time You have been here before You have been lost But you are here now Welcome home We are high We are low We are falling and flying and feeling and ******* Making some kind of use In this physical ******* LIFE (Cant go there anymore Cut off Cut back GET OUT OF MY HEAD OUTTA MY MIND)
0
Oct 18, 2016
Oct 18, 2016 at 3:22 AM UTC
Vent
It's summertime, the drought is here Water seems gold, I have this fear My mind is blocked, going nowhere Do hearts affect? Nothing is clear
0
Mar 14, 2015
Mar 14, 2015 at 1:27 PM UTC
Drought
My birthday comes in a little over 2 weeks and I think when people talk about birthdays, they are secretly talking about status in blocked hours. Somewhere in that 24 hour block, a person was born, and that person was me. .....well Yay I guess. I don't like my birthday. And the reasons for that, are more complicated than you think. When I was 13, I was really into cupcake birthday cakes. I asked for one, every year, for a long time. When I turned 15 and 16, my best friend baked me cupcakes and brought them to school for me, and I shared them with my peers. You see, I considered her my best friend, and I guess that's not enough to be the best friend. It's like unrequited love if you put poisonous platonic friendship in my blood first. When I turned 17, she did baked me my last set of cupcakes, but I no longer had a best friend. So I spent my birthday mentally by myself while my family sang otherwise. And right now, I hate cupcakes, and superhero films because they remind me of her. But saying that is the weakest thing to do, since everything, reminds me of her. I will never admit I loved her, the same way she will shamelessly say she never loved me. I can't hate her, but I can't see her without hating myself. You know age, goes up, the same way sadness, goes down. Pulling you into another 24 hour block just so you can say. "Hey. I made it another day." I will admit that every day without her is another day without cupcakes, and another day without sugar is another day without happiness. And people may have asked me "How can you flip-flop between preferences like you're not the biggest homosexual in the closet." So when I tell people I'm straight, they tell me I'm not allowed to change my mind. I loved her, but she left me and took all of my friends with her. And I thought that real friends wouldn't abandon me, but there is always time to be wrong. By the time my birthday comes, I'll be crying, and she doesn't even remember what day my birthday is on. By the time I read this out loud, I will have been through this birthday, like a person walks through fire. Turning 16 is less about age, then it is about school, and turning 18, is less about the number, and more about becoming an adult. And no amount of adult can neutralize pain. I have accepted the fact that no man will ever really want to marry me. And no Christian, will ever truly want to love me. And if I am wrong, I will have to repeat this lost love forever dragging it out in my life. And if I have kids one day, do you really think... That I'm going to tell everyone if it's a boy or a girl... By making blue or pink... ...cupcakes?
0
Feb 26, 2018
Feb 26, 2018 at 4:07 AM UTC
Turning Adult
My birthday comes in a little over 2 weeks and I think when people talk about birthdays, they are secretly talking about status in blocked hours. Somewhere in that 24 hour block, a person was born, and that person was me. .....well Yay I guess. I don't like my birthday. And the reasons for that, are more complicated than you think. When I was 13, I was really into cupcake birthday cakes. I asked for one, every year, for a long time. When I turned 15 and 16, my best friend baked me cupcakes and brought them to school for me, and I shared them with my peers. You see, I considered her my best friend, and I guess that's not enough to be the best friend. It's like unrequited love if you put poisonous platonic friendship in my blood first. When I turned 17, she did baked me my last set of cupcakes, but I no longer had a best friend. So I spent my birthday mentally by myself while my family sang otherwise. And right now, I hate cupcakes, and superhero films because they remind me of her. But saying that is the weakest thing to do, since everything, reminds me of her. I will never admit I loved her, the same way she will shamelessly say she never loved me. I can't hate her, but I can't see her without hating myself. You know age, goes up, the same way sadness, goes down. Pulling you into another 24 hour block just so you can say. "Hey. I made it another day." I will admit that every day without her is another day without cupcakes, and another day without sugar is another day without happiness. And people may have asked me "How can you flip-flop between preferences like you're not the biggest homosexual in the closet." So when I tell people I'm straight, they tell me I'm not allowed to change my mind. I loved her, but she left me and took all of my friends with her. And I thought that real friends wouldn't abandon me, but there is always time to be wrong. By the time my birthday comes, I'll be crying, and she doesn't even remember what day my birthday is on. By the time I read this out loud, I will have been through this birthday, like a person walks through fire. Turning 16 is less about age, then it is about school, and turning 18, is less about the number, and more about becoming an adult. And no amount of adult can neutralize pain. I have accepted the fact that no man will ever really want to marry me. And no Christian, will ever truly want to love me. And if I am wrong, I will have to repeat this lost love forever dragging it out in my life. And if I have kids one day, do you really think... That I'm going to tell everyone if it's a boy or a girl... By making blue or pink... ...cupcakes?
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A real man Remembers that stars are there Even when blocked out By city lights He knows patience Because more often Than not Waiting Is Worth it He does not falter With his love He does not stutter When he mutters Three Simple Words A real man Need not be rich Or giant Or aggressive But knows that family Is prosperity Love is vast And Compassion Is more powerful Than destruction When he laughs He is carrying me away On plush clouds Lightening my day Reminding me, not to feel so heavy You feel his heart Beating at once With yours Even from far away When he smiles It is not forced It is peaceful It is effortless You see the world in his Gleaming Brown Eyes When he cries (Yes, a real man cries) He is shedding away his pain Collecting tears To make a river So that he can swim He never Allows himself to sink When he loves It is almost indescribable He takes care He is devoted He is reliable Understanding Of the universe’s trials The sad truth is So many good men Go unnoticed In this world So many are Taken For granted When a girl Realizes She has a real man She must decide to Step up And become A real woman Strong Loyal Nurturing Loving Honest She gives him her heart And never thinks twice And if she’s lucky enough To be given his She treats it Like a precious stone And never lets it Out of sight.
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Oct 13, 2012
Oct 13, 2012 at 12:14 AM UTC
A Real Man
Thinking about pizza as I'm here it's warm with the ovens going the order has been placed i sit and wait and wait and wait no time erased, only 1 minute elapsed I feel like I'm swimming laps in a tomato sauce pool with black olives for floaties the sauce is well past my knees so hungry and desperate just to get a slice of this great American pizza pie it makes my heart swell my eyes not dry i'm gonna get eat pizza until i die and if there comes a day when they say no more pizza no way your stomach can't handle it your intestines will flare i'll say i don't care pull the trigger in my underwear crime scene investigates saw it on the news a man covered in pizza and bottles of ***** they couldn't get in the door was unlocked a wall full of pizza boxes had the entry fully blocked but deeper inside was a man no one knew cheese oozing under the doorway cracks like glue i'm still here waiting for pizza no more imaginary trap i look at my watch the tenth minute elapsed the lifeguard gets out he's done with his swim his whistle blows everybody back in the pizza is ready time to dive in
0
Mar 14, 2013
Mar 14, 2013 at 3:38 PM UTC
Pizza
I once found a field, A beautiful field. A field that humans have not disturbed. I lived by the trees near this beautiful field. But I lived in complete ignorance, as two men, each with a ***** came to the middle of the grass, and struck down a wooden plank. Before long, my forest disappeared. Instead of grass growing, The only thing that surfaced, was the pale gray stone that was laid there. I watched as they dug deep into the ground, where tall boxes of stone and glass rose. They stood proud against one another, one building higher than the last. But they blocked my view, of a once beautiful sky. Before long, the field turned into a city, Cars and buses drove though the winding streets. People soon started to appear, and the field I once knew was long forgotten. A fountain has now been placed, where the pioneers have struck their plank, With no tree in sight, I throw the last seed into the water. Where it settles to the bottom with coins and marbles, never to sprout.
0
Aug 16, 2014
Aug 16, 2014 at 6:38 AM UTC
A Beautiful Field
Isn't it lovely When pervy men Pop up in your DM box And try to make you feel That you are a failure Hmm Someone's pen Is thicker than his ****
0
Jul 1, 2016
Jul 1, 2016 at 11:36 PM UTC
Blocked
Out the window the trees go by fast. Never having the chance to know one even by the looks of it. The houses pass by quick and the people in them never move. There is no time to see what's on their televisions. Drive by the Dennisville Lake and my eyes are fixed on the egrets drying in the branches of the trees at least half a mile out. There's a beach in the distance where the sun sets and it's more than picturesque. Years ago, this is where I first learned to ice skate, *but now the lakes blocked off with guardrails, I'm on a busy road, and there's no turning back.* -s.r.pikulinski
0
Feb 15, 2015
Feb 15, 2015 at 11:33 PM UTC
Dennisville Lake
Warning: The seagull flying over the Appalachians could not possibly be amused by the puzzles of an illegitimate composer and the skyscrapers climbed. 1. The skyscrapers were played by tall rocks a girl climbed when she couldn't remember if the cape she wore was made from steel or newspaper. 11. The newspaper they all read together that morning (girl, boy, king, etc) promised nothing but a fifty percent chance of dandelions terrorizing the bus stop. 2. The bus stop had since become a dealer corner and the sunset behind the mountains was blocked by the flipping hair of a lost boy. 7. The boy bought a toy for cheap -- it had a built-in laser, so she stole it to blast a whole hole in that guilt-ridden quilt hung over the four dollar love seat. 6. The love seat, she bought the day he went to maple -- the soap dispenser was broken, but she couldn't find anything new (that she knew) to wash her hands with. 5. The hands that handed her a hammer were covered in promotions, so she stole the motorcycle when they were watching the scarecrow going through electric-shock, disco therapy. 8. The therapy that she received from the parrot-king and his troupe of square roots was enough to make her not forget not regret the boy with feathers in his ears. 10. The ears she woke up with one morning were different in shape than before and the black fur she knew was growing before her eyes. 3. The eyes of the boy were wider than the nightly news station promised, and there wasn't really a difference between caves and boxes in a town that small. 4.   The town she arrived in didn't have a carpool lane or derby, so she had to take her pet goldfish to the river for his depressive state. 9. The river wasn't as flooded after a couple weeks of changing the tune on the jukebox she found way before the departure of her white gold pearls. 12. The pearls she wore for her coming-of-age were buried beneath a dirt mound when she promised herself to always insist on herself.
0
Apr 23, 2012
Apr 23, 2012 at 10:49 AM UTC
Seagull Schmeagull
Warning: The seagull flying over the Appalachians could not possibly be amused by the puzzles of an illegitimate composer and the skyscrapers climbed. 1. The skyscrapers were played by tall rocks a girl climbed when she couldn't remember if the cape she wore was made from steel or newspaper. 11. The newspaper they all read together that morning (girl, boy, king, etc) promised nothing but a fifty percent chance of dandelions terrorizing the bus stop. 2. The bus stop had since become a dealer corner and the sunset behind the mountains was blocked by the flipping hair of a lost boy. 7. The boy bought a toy for cheap -- it had a built-in laser, so she stole it to blast a whole hole in that guilt-ridden quilt hung over the four dollar love seat. 6. The love seat, she bought the day he went to maple -- the soap dispenser was broken, but she couldn't find anything new (that she knew) to wash her hands with. 5. The hands that handed her a hammer were covered in promotions, so she stole the motorcycle when they were watching the scarecrow going through electric-shock, disco therapy. 8. The therapy that she received from the parrot-king and his troupe of square roots was enough to make her not forget not regret the boy with feathers in his ears. 10. The ears she woke up with one morning were different in shape than before and the black fur she knew was growing before her eyes. 3. The eyes of the boy were wider than the nightly news station promised, and there wasn't really a difference between caves and boxes in a town that small. 4.   The town she arrived in didn't have a carpool lane or derby, so she had to take her pet goldfish to the river for his depressive state. 9. The river wasn't as flooded after a couple weeks of changing the tune on the jukebox she found way before the departure of her white gold pearls. 12. The pearls she wore for her coming-of-age were buried beneath a dirt mound when she promised herself to always insist on herself.
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65
We killed Hart Crane Though he leapt To his death A poet’s plan Or perhaps a whim We hold the blame We killed Freddie Mercury And stopped the music The callous political games Blocked possible gains In a needed cure We killed Harvey Milk We were the bullets And the metal frame Held the assassin’s hand We hold the shame We killed The blond burnt boy Encouraging The hate We killed the strung up Beautiful boys The hung up Beaten up Broken hearted Brothers and sons We are the progenitors Of the violence Through action And more often than not Through inaction Maybe a little more guilt Would serve us well
0
Apr 23, 2015
Apr 23, 2015 at 4:59 PM UTC
Killing The Gay
You, Me don't jello we bow cup noah 'ello Teks nomor nomor nomor noah 'ello You, Me don't jello we bow cup noah 'ello *
0
Nov 9, 2018
Nov 9, 2018 at 3:12 PM UTC
BLOCKED
Time collapses between the lips of strangers my days collapse into a hollow tube soon implodes against now like an iron wall my eyes are blocked with rubble a smear of perspectives blurring each horizon in the breathless precision of silence one word is made. Once the renegade flesh was gone fall air lay against my face sharp and blue as a needle but the rain fell through October and death lay a condemnation within my blood. The smell of your neck in August a fine gold wire bejeweling war all the rest lies illusive as a farmhouse on the other side of a valley vanishing in the afternoon. Day three day four day ten the seventh step a veiled door leading to my golden anniversary flameproofed free-paper shredded in the teeth of a pillaging dog never to dream of spiders and when they turned the hoses upon me a burst of light.
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7k
Never to Dream of Spiders
I weeped and sobbed after you knocked on my front door to tell me that I have been blocked by your love and then you said, "This you should just ignore" I should ignore the signs that warned me to just give up. Too bad, so sad that I could not because I loved you too much to break up, So why should I be punished when I thought that this was not one-sided? It would have been nice to know your love for me has never begun and that this all was just an act! Good thing I don't care anymore. But why does my heart stay so sore...?
0
Nov 18, 2014
Nov 18, 2014 at 6:09 PM UTC
The Break-Up
Friendships that go the distance Make all the difference Through lines of continuity Lasting a lifetime. Acquaintances come and go They don't really know Same team Same office Same school All friendly and warm But when you part ways You'll never see them again. Or there is the reminder everyone is a hero in their own melodrama, hurt feelings falling outs blocked miscommunication blame Let's let'em pass Friendships that go the distance Seen you throughout, inside out ugly and beautiful Know all the idiosyncrasies Know what to give for your birthday Know what your all about Willing to work it out Friendships which go the distance Are friends with benefits Unconditional accepance. Acceptance connecting Both ways. We can surely say, It makes it all worthwhile When you have friendships going the distance.
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Aug 21, 2018
Aug 21, 2018 at 10:36 PM UTC
Friendships Which Go The Distance
The voices in my head, brought me to this place A gloomy surrounding, everything looking lifeless and sad I question myself, “Why am I here?” But as I look ahead, I see a beautiful mountain; covered in fluffy snow, Almost looking like the clouds. Now, I am yearning to see the mountain up close, But how do I get to see the best view? With no one around, not even animals Who do I go for, for advice? I continue to look and walk around, Still clueless, not sure what has drawn me to go on this journey “It’s only a mountain,” I tell myself. Trying to figure out where the voices in my head came from My mind is blocked Can’t think straight or See clearly Everything is a blur. Could this possibly be a dream? I continue on with this journey Trying my best to find a way to get to the snowy mountains Tired and lifeless, I pass out in the middle of nowhere Flashbacks start to come You were the voice in my head Your harsh words, Harsh words that brought me into this dark place Left me feeling helpless and burdened I get up and try to find a way out Here I am standing, standing where I began Looking at the mountain, From where I’m standing, I question myself: “Which way do I go?” There’s the stream A stream that’s aligned with the mountain And the mountains with a path cleared out Directing me to the snowy mountain. The voices in my head Preventing me from moving forward, Drowning me with sadness. The longer I’m here, The more it overwhelms me I’ve got to get out of here.
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Jul 7, 2018
Jul 7, 2018 at 9:56 PM UTC
voices in my head
The voices in my head, brought me to this place A gloomy surrounding, everything looking lifeless and sad I question myself, “Why am I here?” But as I look ahead, I see a beautiful mountain; covered in fluffy snow, Almost looking like the clouds. Now, I am yearning to see the mountain up close, But how do I get to see the best view? With no one around, not even animals Who do I go for, for advice? I continue to look and walk around, Still clueless, not sure what has drawn me to go on this journey “It’s only a mountain,” I tell myself. Trying to figure out where the voices in my head came from My mind is blocked Can’t think straight or See clearly Everything is a blur. Could this possibly be a dream? I continue on with this journey Trying my best to find a way to get to the snowy mountains Tired and lifeless, I pass out in the middle of nowhere Flashbacks start to come You were the voice in my head Your harsh words, Harsh words that brought me into this dark place Left me feeling helpless and burdened I get up and try to find a way out Here I am standing, standing where I began Looking at the mountain, From where I’m standing, I question myself: “Which way do I go?” There’s the stream A stream that’s aligned with the mountain And the mountains with a path cleared out Directing me to the snowy mountain. The voices in my head Preventing me from moving forward, Drowning me with sadness. The longer I’m here, The more it overwhelms me I’ve got to get out of here.
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43
There is a young lady called Anna. She is a loner. She lives alone with her two cats. They are her world. I am a cat lover myself and have 2 little cuties in my nest. But these cats are just plain feral. They terrorise the other cats in the neighbourhood and **** in all the neighbours’ garden. She works Monday to Friday for a recruitment company. She leaves her flat in a purple Mazda convertible which is renowned for being a Hairdresser’s (AKA dumb **** car. Every day she leaves at 7.30am on the dot and every day she arrives home at 7.15pm on the dot. Once at home she turns on her TV cinema system (sub), just to watch the TV. ***** At the weekend she also leaves her stinking putrid ******* bags out in the communal hallway. ***** She ignores her neighbour’s knocking on her door. She ignores the notes that they put through her letterbox. ***** So as Anna was not willing to speak to her neighbours directly. They had no other way to turn apart from to report her to Environmental Health for playing her TV cinema system (sub) too loudly and also for the disgusting ******* that she regularly leaves out in the communal hallway. ***** In which she returns the compliment by reporting them (said neighbours) to the Environmental Health for: 1) Shouting at each other, 2) Talking too loudly, 3) Banging kitchen utensils on the floor when she is in her kitchen How deluded is this ***** At the same time that her neighbours reported Anna to the Environmental Health they also spoke to the Community Support Officer. They advised them to contact the Mediators in their local area. Which of course they did. The Mediators arranged to visit one evening. Unbeknownst to them they parked in Anna’s allocated parking space. Once they had finished with her neighbours, the Mediators returned to their car. Just as they were about to reverse their car, Anna arrived home in her Mazda convertible and blocked them in. ***** When she got out of the Mazda convertible, with attitude I might add, she asked the Mediators who they were. They then introduced themselves. Once she knew who they were, she invited them into her flat to hear her side on the story. YES I AM HER ******* NEIGHBOUR AND YES I AM STILL WAITING TO HEAR BACK FROM THE MEDIATORS……
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Jan 30, 2010
Jan 30, 2010 at 11:21 PM UTC
Inconsiderate Neighbour!
There is a young lady called Anna. She is a loner. She lives alone with her two cats. They are her world. I am a cat lover myself and have 2 little cuties in my nest. But these cats are just plain feral. They terrorise the other cats in the neighbourhood and **** in all the neighbours’ garden. She works Monday to Friday for a recruitment company. She leaves her flat in a purple Mazda convertible which is renowned for being a Hairdresser’s (AKA dumb **** car. Every day she leaves at 7.30am on the dot and every day she arrives home at 7.15pm on the dot. Once at home she turns on her TV cinema system (sub), just to watch the TV. ***** At the weekend she also leaves her stinking putrid ******* bags out in the communal hallway. ***** She ignores her neighbour’s knocking on her door. She ignores the notes that they put through her letterbox. ***** So as Anna was not willing to speak to her neighbours directly. They had no other way to turn apart from to report her to Environmental Health for playing her TV cinema system (sub) too loudly and also for the disgusting ******* that she regularly leaves out in the communal hallway. ***** In which she returns the compliment by reporting them (said neighbours) to the Environmental Health for: 1) Shouting at each other, 2) Talking too loudly, 3) Banging kitchen utensils on the floor when she is in her kitchen How deluded is this ***** At the same time that her neighbours reported Anna to the Environmental Health they also spoke to the Community Support Officer. They advised them to contact the Mediators in their local area. Which of course they did. The Mediators arranged to visit one evening. Unbeknownst to them they parked in Anna’s allocated parking space. Once they had finished with her neighbours, the Mediators returned to their car. Just as they were about to reverse their car, Anna arrived home in her Mazda convertible and blocked them in. ***** When she got out of the Mazda convertible, with attitude I might add, she asked the Mediators who they were. They then introduced themselves. Once she knew who they were, she invited them into her flat to hear her side on the story. YES I AM HER ******* NEIGHBOUR AND YES I AM STILL WAITING TO HEAR BACK FROM THE MEDIATORS……
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I have trust issues. not because I mistook a raisin for a chocolate chip, but I mistook you as a person who wouldn't hurt me. Who wouldn't let me be tortured under the world's pressures You knew I was treasure but locked me away in your cheap jewelry box So, when I was freed of a year's slavery, I built my wall Much taller and stronger than before, just to hope it'd scare away monsters like you from my door. Until one learned how to climb. In time, I let his angel face distract me from his devil's soul But the guards of my heart blocked him out before I paid another toll. My wall was built and rebuilt a million times I installed the blinds and laid alone. Until a price charming climbed along or does he belong to those monsters? My heart says no but my trust issues say yes what if he can actually break the spell placed on me?
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May 15, 2015
May 15, 2015 at 7:18 PM UTC
Trust Issues
the first drop of water not ice from the sky signals the season’s change new england so pretty looking angelic drew me in a venus fly trap locked in a prism snow reflecting back to me eerie thoughts shrouded in black no place for a runner where I can escape them locked in by the fireplace tattered ashes mockingly laugh i flee and i run minus eight reads the meter frostbitten returning trapped with my thinking blocked in on all sides the icy walls fold in on me forced to see the reflection looking back at me go away brightness banish your glow i need the shadows where hidden feelings quietly cower another storm coming madness engulfs me searching for pen grasping at paper salvation words spilling out parts of me buried so skillfully long ago finally see light just for a moment the respite’s exquisite then longing for springtime oh god, why can’t it rain? ©2016janetaylor
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May 17, 2016
May 17, 2016 at 11:59 AM UTC
why can't it rain?
You were there for me at my weakest state To comfort me and my self-hate Through our darkest hours and toughest times We let go of our struggles and let time go by Through jokes and games we forgot about life We could talk for hours without blinking an eye As years went on we started to quarrel We argued in hatred about our naive troubles You called me a loner and I said "fine i’ll leave" So I left you and cried until I could no longer weep You made the best of me I tried to make the best of you I regret the day that I blocked you
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Aug 1, 2018
Aug 1, 2018 at 8:57 AM UTC
Goodbye Old Friend
It's funny that I can sit here and say that my life is something, when I was lazy today. I stayed inside, watched a movie or two Cried my eyes out, feeling rather blue. But after it was over, reality came back and I realized that I... hadn't done jack. Sure, I had felt, I had feared, I had wished, I had procrastinated, and stuck up my fist. In today's world, however, what does it mean if you're not an athlete or mathlete; you're just unseen Unseen because you have blocked yourself completely out from the world, from danger, from the coming drought of people who  actually cared about others and not just their next Friday night lovers. Can I call myself accomplished at  high when all I've done is weasel my way by? Using the bare minimum of my brain power. Waisting little energy staying up for hours. I've been lazy. I AM lazy. But should that validate anything I've done? Should I waste away a life that's only just begun? Or should I stop being lazy, here and today, turn off the device, take a look around at... May? That's the month, isn't it so? I can't remember, do you even know? I have been stuck in a grave mindset that blocks out every responsibility or threat; but I think I should awake and see the world for it's mistakes yet still embrace it 's wit and never ever never quit. I'm lazy, yes, but I can make my life something. Because after all, we all started as nothing.
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May 6, 2015
May 6, 2015 at 1:59 PM UTC
Lazy Me