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"cancellations" poems
All my life is waves, expressed as rays, phases, and cancellations... ...Waving by and paving over what I made in other ages Undulating sway, disrupting Self, the Phrase, the Word, the Way -- Nameless, without shape - within all shape - all touch, all taste; One expressed as Two: compress, expand, repeat. In balance, truth. Lilting swells that break in mind and water, endless scintillation; Every word as complex as its counterpart, unpatterned ocean; All motion the illusion of Desire, the fire that burns to Rest... ...But only ever simulates, for trough but stimulates the crest; When all my waves have ceased and found their peace, there ends my quest.
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Aug 4, 2011
Aug 4, 2011 at 4:45 PM UTC
Waves
Disaster is my master I've seen chaos in mediocre valleys Murdered by my feet in the dark alleys, I am a hazard Cringing by the needles of the ****** addicts Chicago is my town With concrete giants towering And city people behind dark windows cowering But, stop right there What is this disaster? I am speaking of Down hard and fallen The windy city government failure is only a small token A token of no appreciations, comprehension, solitary explosions, or time stamp expirations. So come to this city and see the real masters of deviation and drive by cancellations You will see these people distant passed the time and places With empty shoes, empty futures and empty faces Please talk to the drunkards begging for another shot of gin with all together no more chances This disaster is in front of you Simple, solemn, messed up and confused I beg you, don't walk past them and forget, you could be there too I just don't want to see you downplayed, hungry or depraved. Restrained, contained or in constant pain. And Lord knows this revelation of what you want to be is only left outside under the constant rain
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Jan 8, 2018
Jan 8, 2018 at 3:26 PM UTC
Disaster is my Master
Look far beyond your nose Imagine the wording prose your mind recites despite the fights between the lights; Stand-back to back with your enemies And believe that you are safe, A mistake; Craving knowledge of everything from your existence To your beliefs I believed I was falling down the trail And all hail the misguided princess; She's so misguided the North Pole becomes south And the south; Exiting from her mouth With a flow; the beautiful candles of her heart. The beautiful candles of her heart Those that lit stormy fire inside mine Those that lit up the dark pits of something I forgot about, And all about my whereabouts I see the signs of inconclusive doubts Over my forehead, reflected upon people's faces; And eyes look at me with non-empithetical sympathy The symphony of eyelashes flapping over a lost identity. I'm lost. All those spiritual stoppages Are causing my hands to shiver All those figurative speech as she caresses her words Preparing mine to stutter Are making my eyes darken And my faith to dismay; I may, Or may not be the person you want to find But I find you the person I was never looking for Yet I still crave the carves you carve on my hands. The snapping bones of anger; The cracking knuckles of regret; The apprehensions preconceived with the threats; The young man lost his track The young man lost in the wild With ideas even wilder And actions that do not convey his messages For the circles of bees become limits to his being; For the frontiers of fighting lions Become barriers to his block, That upper corner in dying arteries; hidden Way over the Mediterranean seas forgotten, That young man is creating chaotic cancellations, Phones typing messages of hesitation, Brains articulating pieces of his own creation, A salutation be upon my buddy The young fellow who got lost facing everybody, And everybody cheered as they watched; His being stepped on, and heart being stabbed The chats between the minds Become cramps The cramps in his existence become fatal agitation The agitations in his life become psychiatric misinterpretation For he got it all wrong Everyone got it all wrong But does that stop him? Let alone Does that stop all the fake men who built their empires upon forged pillars? Killers, Of characteristics; Followers, Disciples and students To a dark lady Typing her last words of goodbye Over a phone that’s found in her palms Yet lost, In a young girl's heart.
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Jul 28, 2013
Jul 28, 2013 at 10:06 AM UTC
Misguided
Look far beyond your nose Imagine the wording prose your mind recites despite the fights between the lights; Stand-back to back with your enemies And believe that you are safe, A mistake; Craving knowledge of everything from your existence To your beliefs I believed I was falling down the trail And all hail the misguided princess; She's so misguided the North Pole becomes south And the south; Exiting from her mouth With a flow; the beautiful candles of her heart. The beautiful candles of her heart Those that lit stormy fire inside mine Those that lit up the dark pits of something I forgot about, And all about my whereabouts I see the signs of inconclusive doubts Over my forehead, reflected upon people's faces; And eyes look at me with non-empithetical sympathy The symphony of eyelashes flapping over a lost identity. I'm lost. All those spiritual stoppages Are causing my hands to shiver All those figurative speech as she caresses her words Preparing mine to stutter Are making my eyes darken And my faith to dismay; I may, Or may not be the person you want to find But I find you the person I was never looking for Yet I still crave the carves you carve on my hands. The snapping bones of anger; The cracking knuckles of regret; The apprehensions preconceived with the threats; The young man lost his track The young man lost in the wild With ideas even wilder And actions that do not convey his messages For the circles of bees become limits to his being; For the frontiers of fighting lions Become barriers to his block, That upper corner in dying arteries; hidden Way over the Mediterranean seas forgotten, That young man is creating chaotic cancellations, Phones typing messages of hesitation, Brains articulating pieces of his own creation, A salutation be upon my buddy The young fellow who got lost facing everybody, And everybody cheered as they watched; His being stepped on, and heart being stabbed The chats between the minds Become cramps The cramps in his existence become fatal agitation The agitations in his life become psychiatric misinterpretation For he got it all wrong Everyone got it all wrong But does that stop him? Let alone Does that stop all the fake men who built their empires upon forged pillars? Killers, Of characteristics; Followers, Disciples and students To a dark lady Typing her last words of goodbye Over a phone that’s found in her palms Yet lost, In a young girl's heart.
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THOUGHTS Days consumed with images and memories of you... hugs,smiles, jokes,laughs, stares, sweet kisses so thoughts continue. Looking towards the constellations deep contemplations of whether or not we are destined to be controls my entity. Distracted by the funky melondies of untalented singers disrupt my yearning heartbeat. At times the feeling of flight overpowers me but there's something about you that leads to the constant cancellations of my many trips. See shorty doo *** rolling oowops... you intrigued my mind, captured my soul and now your so close to holding my heart that it seems unreal. I don't fall easily! You're piercing my heart without my consent. You shot me in the back and I became limp to all my Desires all the while I was looking at you,eye to eye, Yes this was the entire time. Confusing right, frustratingly enough its pretty complex this surprise attack. I have yet to start the healing process but what's even worse is Im not absolutely sure if I want to experience that, Or if your even ready yet! Guess Not... You said you'll take a Raincheck Just Speak Ta'resa Pearson
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Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 12:18 PM UTC
Thoughts of a Insecure Heart!
When you turned two, they dressed you up like a princess, they put cake in front of you for you to destroy with your tiny hands. Everyone thought of how cute you were. When you turned eight, mom brought Burger King for the entire class. The fries smelled of simple pleasures. Everyone thought of how cool you were. When you turned thirteen, girls night in was the thing. Homemade face masks, prank phone calls, followed by pizza and junk food. Everyone thought of how fun you were. When you turned eighteen, your friends picked you up, at midnight. You stop by 7-11, to buy a Black n Mild and a lotto ticket. You thought of how mature you were. When you turned twenty-one, everyone cared to wish you well. Margaritas on the house, celebrations made to be forgotten. You thought of how life has only just begun. When you turned twenty-eight, there were no presents to be expected. Cancellations, excuses, and "sorry" filled the day. You thought of - "Who do I matter to anymore?" Happy Unbirthday to Me
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Jan 28, 2019
Jan 28, 2019 at 1:17 PM UTC
Happy Unbirthday
Number me zero But please, take no offense My body requires What the mind can’t make sense Number me zero Not two minus two Nonexistent; unable To spend time with you Number me zero I simply cannot commit The soul and heart earns Yet the ability’s spent There are some lucky days When you can number me one When twitches and trembles and the pain seems all done. These are glorious days When normality flows I feel I belong from my head to my toes Please always remember When you cannot perceive The cancellations and distance are not you, they’re me. The physical and mental will kink without warning When I cannot achieve It is I, that is mourning. So number me zero If that is what you must do **I’d rather you number me zero, Than pretend the untrue.**
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Feb 13, 2011
Feb 13, 2011 at 4:55 PM UTC
Number me zero.
I didn't imagine the great Life to be like this: it didn't break any hope, opportunity, or a good-sounding hint, because more and more people are saying these days that it is more useful to always adjust to the steps of others. Everyone is gradually slipping into the cacophony of great repetitions. Because even the sacred joys of getting to know each other are always missing something; A complaint of fate that can be kissed off from the ashen palms of Angels, so that even the minor and major soul-blemishes can be easily repaired and comforted at least a little. In the airless vacuum spaces of entanglements, like an entrepreneurial craftsman who cannot receive an order, a project, or a well-sounding tender, since other bigger sharks keep snatching away the abundant profits, we dig our own, gaping graves with stubborn and determined expertise, when the eternal candles will also be on sale as the Day of the Dead approaches. In the visceral ecstasy-cancellations of the inner self, we are always a little inclined to intentionally give up a more personal, more intimate, candlelit, romantic encounter, when we could even easily find each other, since we are truly terrified of lasting, overt humiliation. Clinging to the consciously forgettable memory-rings, we would still expect the smaller, more naïve, and ridiculous surprises of Being; just as in our adolescence, which can be increased to the point of being disturbed, when many of us realized that growing up is always a painful thing. The bitter-lipped, dilatable cheerfulness that a fringe-haired Tarzan flashed mainly at model-shaped ladies; the sufficiently foolish magic of this current third century is spreading widely, among humanity, which is also selfish-possessive in its nature.
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Sep 28, 2025
Sep 28, 2025 at 12:44 AM UTC
THE SHAME OF ABSURD SURPRISES
I didn't imagine the great Life to be like this: it didn't break any hope, opportunity, or a good-sounding hint, because more and more people are saying these days that it is more useful to always adjust to the steps of others. Everyone is gradually slipping into the cacophony of great repetitions. Because even the sacred joys of getting to know each other are always missing something; A complaint of fate that can be kissed off from the ashen palms of Angels, so that even the minor and major soul-blemishes can be easily repaired and comforted at least a little. In the airless vacuum spaces of entanglements, like an entrepreneurial craftsman who cannot receive an order, a project, or a well-sounding tender, since other bigger sharks keep snatching away the abundant profits, we dig our own, gaping graves with stubborn and determined expertise, when the eternal candles will also be on sale as the Day of the Dead approaches. In the visceral ecstasy-cancellations of the inner self, we are always a little inclined to intentionally give up a more personal, more intimate, candlelit, romantic encounter, when we could even easily find each other, since we are truly terrified of lasting, overt humiliation. Clinging to the consciously forgettable memory-rings, we would still expect the smaller, more naïve, and ridiculous surprises of Being; just as in our adolescence, which can be increased to the point of being disturbed, when many of us realized that growing up is always a painful thing. The bitter-lipped, dilatable cheerfulness that a fringe-haired Tarzan flashed mainly at model-shaped ladies; the sufficiently foolish magic of this current third century is spreading widely, among humanity, which is also selfish-possessive in its nature.
Continue reading...
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Biting cold, rain, sleet and snow, Temperatures very low, Crunchy grass, freezing mornings, Roads like glass; weather warnings! Traffic jams, travel chaos, Accidents to delay us. Buses, trains stuck at stations, Many flight cancellations. Time for wearing winter gear When coats and hats reappear, When gloves and scarves are the norm Anything to keep us warm! When crying eyes, runny nose, Frozen fingers, tingling toes Are the order of the day; Hard to keep the cold at bay. Schools are shut to kids delight, Can’t make work though try you might. Home is where most folk are at Turning up their thermostats Heating on all night and day, Kids indoors, not out to play. Most folk staying in no doubt Happy they need not go out. But all do not have such luck Perhaps a good time to look In on neighbours the odd day To make sure they are ok. Maybe help the homeless too, Do anything we can do To ensure we all weather These Winter storms together.
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Dec 4, 2015
Dec 4, 2015 at 4:13 AM UTC
Brrrr!!
I feel the cuts along my side today was the day I intended to commit suicide I planned and planned to make distractions but my birthday gift was endless cancellations As I sit alone I can't help but think, "should my enticing plan be enacted?"
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Jan 21, 2018
Jan 21, 2018 at 8:12 PM UTC
Happy birthday.
She said he only did it once, A lie, we all know now, Her black and blue explained away, The scar above her brow, Her hair tied tight to hide the bald, The clumps of hair he tore, The telltale signs of running scared, the make up that she wore, The cancellations she would make, Excuses wearing thin, Her friends, becoming distant now, Her signature false grins, And now she sits explaining how, She hit back way too hard, A life cut short, a payback show, She really marked his card, If only she had said it once, If only she had left, He hit her once too often, now, His prison sentence.... death..
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Mar 25, 2019
Mar 25, 2019 at 9:35 AM UTC
Once too often
The passengers were in their seats When something was announced – Employees had to fly and so Four people would be bounced. Requests with compensation Met with silence, so United Chose some “random” ticket holders To deplane and thus ignited Quite a controversy, since one man Just out and out refused. His ****** removal left him Furious and bruised. The gentleman, a doctor, Had some patients to attend to. United workers didn’t care; Nor did they pretend to. Of course, the scene was filmed And now those so-called “friendly skies” Will be filled with cancellations As the rage intensifies.
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Apr 12, 2017
Apr 12, 2017 at 6:49 PM UTC
Unfriendly Skies
Happy July Somehow we made it despite and in spite of what is out of our control Cancellations, hurdles, rescheduling and need for more patience Reflect all that you want to Giving up isn't an option Nor is running out or moving away Complain until you turn another's ears blue Take peaceful and gentle action Quietly and affirmatively in a group Jump threw hurdles with a plan Be selective and careful As we continue our Troubles and Triumphs Looking for a double rainbow in the sky Oh my C@rainbowchaser2023
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Jul 1, 2022
Jul 1, 2022 at 8:47 AM UTC
Troubles and Triumphs
why am i not surprised when boys cancel their eyes averted their lips sewn tight into a frown “sorry” they say then deliver some ******** excuse and i breathe it in without any other thought except that somehow i brought this onto myself the way that some people believe they cause hurricanes or volcanic eruptions i believe that i cause cancellations either with my personality or with my luck (although i’m not sure which is worse: being broken or ****** all i know is that it kills me that i don’t put on makeup before dates anymore because i won’t waste mascara on tears won’t waste lipstick on the edges of a shot glass after i’m forgotten it kills me that i don’t get butterflies when i kiss people because if i got butterflies anymore thousands of species would have suffocated inside me
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Oct 17, 2017
Oct 17, 2017 at 12:30 PM UTC
reservation for one
Questions Situations They change along with the answers Just as memories and seasons do You must capture them Enjoy them to the utmost In an instant or New York minute There are reasons beyond your control which cause delays,disruptions,cancellations,and in many cases unfortunately heartbreak Seasons C@rainbowchaser2024
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Jan 27, 2024
Jan 27, 2024 at 1:40 PM UTC
Reasons
Life is like a busy airport Friends come and go Life has delays or cancellations You leave your baggage behind ALWAYS Sit and wait for a fantasy destination In the end You will SOAR high in the sky Even if it wasn’t in the expected flight of passage...
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Nov 4, 2017
Nov 4, 2017 at 8:17 AM UTC
Airport
I always wanted a diehard romantic, one who would write me poetry Someone to create mix tapes whose lyrics would speak of our love. But I am that romantic. My heart tied up in words and clever verse. You speak a different tongue: your actions are your words: You were there at every gig though it never was demanded. Offered to stay with me in Brussels when cancellations left me stranded. You share my tastes in fantasy, sci-fi, food and alcohol. The way you lift my confidence when self-doubt takes it's hold. You put my needs before your own, in this way you are selfless. The gifts you give are well thought out, you're always going off-list. You support me through the bad times, you're a shoulder through grief. The time you turned up unannounced, I stood open-jawed in disbelief. You never ask me to change my ways, you choose to love me for me. At weekend you let me lie-in, then pop up with 'Morning!' and tea. These are the actions you speak for me, Louder than words, your poetry.
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Feb 14, 2019
Feb 14, 2019 at 2:01 PM UTC
Louder Than Words
Life is like a busy airport Friends come and go Life has delays or cancellations You leave your baggage behind ALWAYS Sit and wait for a fantasy destination In the end You will SOAR high in the sky Even if it wasn’t in the expected flight of passage...
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Apr 24, 2018
Apr 24, 2018 at 12:05 PM UTC
Life is like an airport