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"cardiogram" poems
Droplets of sweat flattened on our foreheads under the weight of a mid-August sun—flattened into ovals of sticky sodium, catching specks of stray dirt swept into the air from the passing semi’s and transport trucks, whipping the wind into torrents of chalky highway dust. Pressed high against the skies curved plain, we used our thumbs to browse the passing cars like pages of an anthology enclosed by a narrow spine of asphalt. But when one pulled onto the shoulder and we approached the passenger side window, we too were ****** with the expectation and appeal of a library—mutually eager in the labour of conversation for the currency of experience. For a moment, as the prairie receded in the side mirrors, our car became the baseline of a frantic cardiogram, crowded by the landscape of rising granite walls and low-hanging canyons, and the space between our separate lives closed like parallel lines drawn by gravity to a magnetic core. We pushed our destination west, as far as it would go, safe on the heels of expectation. In motion the passing towns crackled like neurotransmitters firing signals over axons of black asphalt. But each time the car slowed to release us, one more they faded into a rancid stasis, that, once more, we aimed only to depart.
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Sep 16, 2016
Sep 16, 2016 at 7:41 AM UTC
From the Road
Twirling my spoon in the depths of caffeine, I yawn and stare across the dim-lit shop. The silky bitterness wafts in the air, As a sleepy bird outside decides to mope. An ordinary day it was, like the past, Nothing unusual, nothing wavered from the start. I gulped the inky brew in a frenzy to leave, Staring over my mug, my heart skipped a beat. Long jagged scars ran down his face, A disgrace in the eyes of visual allure. Features veiled with tribulation, His kaleidoscopic orbs bled loneliness. Unavoidable gasps rang all around, People parting like panicked doves, Perhaps an acquaintance of shadow? He glided in with a crown of frost. My heart rang like a failed cardiogram, As I stated at the nameless stranger in front, Features, once chiseled and envied, Now mirrored a fate of broken glass. Stripped of his appearance, an outcast by society, My heart longed to read the pages of his destruction, Love was no longer a cliché to me, Thoughts leading back to this moment.
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Feb 21, 2015
Feb 21, 2015 at 6:43 PM UTC
12:00 AM
I... Recollect times past, to nullify my current state, to back when peace shimmered our harbor, warm and safe. My... Misleading memories of honesty, truth, and faith, sincere and fortunate light sequester, life displaced. In-the... Deep midst of my being, deluged a swamp of mossy lace, troubled body of trembling thought, gasping for escape. Heard... “Open yer eyes boy... I don't wanna ya to swallow yer tongue.” That's when someone else decided, that I'd had "enough." Saved... from freedoms of chaos, and now the allure of death, for catheter and plastic gown, none by request. How... many beats per minute will my cardiogram play? How long must I be plugged in, before I get away?.. I'll... likely be spitting gray chalk for the next week or more, I know these things because, I've been through this all before. There's such a... cluttering of whispers, that they all try to hide, when nurses talk about me, they mention “suicide.” There's... Nurses, and doctors, all hoping I'll pull through, not one will treat the failure, of who lie in I.C.U. Next week... We'll identify problems, bits of understanding, how many groups and puzzles to take, to ease my landings.
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Feb 16, 2018
Feb 16, 2018 at 6:10 PM UTC
My Landings
You colour the chest-implanted violin of life with drops of  chronic alkaline comfort. You deposit in yearly doses on the upper heart chambers. You will be buried with her. The book of souls deciphers the chemicals were low, your presence is unwelcomed in peoples' courts. But  you have always been there for her. You are destroying her. The blood violently regurgitates back to the left and right cardiac chambers. She wore that heart proudly in her chest. She played the heart strings till her fingers bled with blood. But what worth do words have right now, when the damage is really done? No metallic stent can restore the pathways of the heart. The violin strings break one by one.
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Dec 29, 2017
Dec 29, 2017 at 11:47 AM UTC
M(E)l-an(CHO)-lia cardiogram
my heart got fat i won't be able to get anywhere at the last moment jump into arms fall in love crash against compromise from now on i'll be always in advance at waiting rooms
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Jun 29, 2020
Jun 29, 2020 at 2:23 AM UTC
Cardiogram
cardiogram the pulses of my verdant heart when yours blooms inside it but the fear of letting go is strong and i chose butterflies over aching petals in the weakness of the dark
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Apr 22, 2017
Apr 22, 2017 at 8:43 AM UTC
dilemma