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Nat Lipstadt Dec 2015
Time: 7:30 pm
Temp.: 68F

~~~
overlooking the runways,
festooned by
accidental heavenly whimsy,
or humanistic whimsical inten-sity,
all the the planes and trucks are flashing
electrifying speckles, of eclectically synced
red and green

it is not my holiday,
but no matter,
like every New Yorker this day,
I am happily celebrating its
double U,
unique, unusual

"record breaking warmth"

yes, the Fahrenheit is outtasight, and by the dawn of
early eve~night,
the Centigrade is spiraling in reverse retrograde,
as the temp eases on down, just below seventy degrees,
on this dewinterized twenty fourth day of
December, two nought and fifteen

traffic is light, the terminal, an unbusy, slim shadow of itself,
the maddening crowds gone, now all are among
the dearly departed and either/or, the newly arrived

so composition of the observational, brings cheer and smiles to my faith,
(I mean my face),
the crowning quietude of clear skies, the absence of street smart
city  bustle and hustle,
the languid atmosphere at the gates,
(where seldom is heard an encouraging word)#
makes me reconsider the true meaning of
the au courant phraseology of this day

"record breaking warmth"

for there is indeed
a calm invisible warmth suffusing all tonite,
chests glowing from fireplaces within,
contentment chamber containers in both hearth and heart,
and I am thinking
miracle,
about all the human warmth
on this celebrated evening,
holy night

indeed,
it is breaking records of
recorded human fusion,
the united commonality of millions warming
his and her stories world-over,
that your personal poet is
warming to record
# but not tonight, as I am
unbelievably,
upgraded!
Jay earnest May 2017
i remember someone
long ago

asked me why

i liked to walk on the sidewalk
while wearing
an armani
suit in the 93 degree heat.

i told him
,

that sometimes
your style
is a just your manner
of thinking of things

and that oftentimes
your confusion
is just measurement
or volume
of what really is upsetting your past self in a dimension of

satisfactory
fortitude.

then he nodded
and the next
day i saw him in the same armani suit in the
93 degree
heat
telling
all the other people the same thing
and they started wearing their own armani
suits
but it stopped being
93 degrees outside
and more like a cool
23
centigrade
Andressa Leite Nov 2011
bring me to the land of green.

green trees
green seas
green me.

brand new,
cracking out of my shell with
the egg tooth that never
quite fell.

make me green again
please.
i've been old too long.

what is it like to take in the sun
in the mornings
where the temperature
reads centigrade instead of
farenheit?

green as the day i was born.
green as the sea whose salt air burns me.
green as the tree i was hatched in.

green as the day
the temperature read in
centigrade.
i moved to brazil.
Devashish Kumar Mar 2016
It is another Sunday in the winter.
I am properly tucked in my quilt.
I browse through the top headlines of the hour.
It says the temperature outside is two-degree centigrade and I quit
all ideas of leaving my quilt.

Sundays in winter were my favourite days
and letting me play on Sundays my cookies
for reading properly for six days.
Those Sundays, which seem to be distant memories,
are some of my best memories.

Saturdays were the days of preparation.
Arranging bats, *****, and bicycles, at least, four,
deciding time and venue for the action,
making strategies to sail us ashore-
were some important tasks to be completed before.

I used to sleep a bit early after setting
up a thousand alarms, in case I missed a few,
to ensure I woke up in the morning.
and then I would make a few
calls to wake up the crew.  

Though while gearing up,
I would move as little as possible
my Mom would always wake up
and then I had to wear all the clothes ‘cause cold air made you susceptible
to sick and sick made you feeble.

Before I could leave home, I had
to close the door as slowly as possible
because I didn't want to wake up Dad
for he was predictably unpredictable
and it was too risky a gamble.

We dared not look into uncles 'n aunties'
eyes while asking our friends to come to play
for their looks could terrorize
anyone. We'd then go to the decided play-
ground on the shared bicycles without delay.

Quarrels to bat at the top,
the endless running around to save a few runs,
‘barking’ on fellow players lest catches they drop,
heated discussions on run-outs-
these memories still give me goose bumps.

The celebrations after winning the matches and
blaming each other for losing were
the customs of the day and
mom made ‘chicken’ and a good after-
noon nap - a perfect finish for a day to remember.

A lifetime has gone by
since we last played together
and bade each other goodbye
but those memories still lurking somewhere
inside our brains adhere us together.
I usually do not write about myself or my memories, which makes it special. Those days are some of my best memories. And in a cricket crazy country like ours, many definitely have similar memories.
© Devashish Kumar
David Nelson Mar 2010
No More Sweets

I've managed to outdo myself,
I've made a failing grade,
my sweets no longer thinks of me,
its a zero centigrade,
sure, I knew what I did was chancy,
complete collapse was high,
but nothing ventured, nothing gained,
is the motto I go by,
I still hold the view of high regard,
in every single thought,
the chance was taken, I was mistaken,
in what it was I sought,  
and now my thoughts blow in the wind,
they are torn and scattered,
any possibility, of this reconcile gone,
as if it really mattered,
I will return again someday, my head held high,
walking busy streets,
until then, I'll mourn in peace,
knowing no more Sweets.

Gomer LePoet...
Morning Dec 2017
The pain will never go away
Like raindrops on my cheeks
Flash flood, into a raging river
Rushing off my face; Waterfall,
A grief-stricken cascade
The pain will never go away
Weak with ailing vertigo
Swaying back and forth
Only to be stationary; Rotting,
A slow and steady decay
The pain will never go away
Raging war, of the internal kind
Dolefulness claims it's crown
Contentment held captive
Like the Seventh Crusade
The pain will never go away
No light insight, Deep in the woods
Like the blackness
On a new moon night; Cold
One degree centigrade
The pain will never go away
Hollowed, repleted with agony
Gray, A bleakness
Never truly described; This
The obscureness of dolor's grenade
It will never go away
Episodes of depression
Feedback/Corrections
Twenty-seven Centigrade,
better find a little shade
dying in the Sun,
turning slightly brown,
think
I'm too well done
that's alright
with me, it's
time for tea.

Eighty-two in Fahrenheit
head's getting to be so light
floating far away, it's
what a Summer day was sent
to me for.

If I close one eye and I pray,
I might conjure up another beautiful day.

Mercury,
I know that you dream of me,
the temperatures rising, it's
hardly surprising.
Antony Glaser Oct 2021
Glos cheese is so mild and true
like fall at 16 centigrade
It's mellow like a church calling
reliable as the day is long.
It comes yodling down the hay wain
It's slightly nutty in a good way.
It lays prostrate on an orbital path
and welcomes strangers.

It seizes the day
and comes office suited
like a coach and her price pupil
Nutrolling you along a righteous path
Brandishing away nettles and brambles
to lay a common purpose
like a prayer book
Ordinarily, the weather
considered non trees
son us, a neutral subject on par
with non nose wrinkling odoriferous cheese
usually ranks as minor distraction,
without whether yours truly agrees

or not, except
during balmy temperatures,
an unavoidable tease,
whereat sub zero degrees,
whether Centigrade or Fahrenheit
demands human sacrifice

(me anima knocking knees),
no negotiating with Ole Man Winter,
he requests (lest
he continue deep freeze
maelstrom until the end of time),
nothing 'cept a healthy seas

sunned **** sapien to appease
his insatiable appetite
froze to the core,
when all body functions cease,
thus until onset of frostbite disease
transformed me into a human popsicle

obliging surrender of self,
no matter I always minded "p's"
and "q's", and adhered
to selfless decrees
not until that moment - this me's
lee sad excuse e'en for missing link,

said personal radar of this primate
suddenly went haywire madly wheeze
zing, as if giant hand (some
harried styled swiftly tailored
paw) did squeeze
traumatizing, suffocating, mangling

constricting, asphyxiating... sensation
(surprised muss elf, and all my enemies,
hence survived death as a breeze)
when similar to Socrates
ill fate found him downing hemlock,

necessitated, I reluctantly quaff antifreeze
as preservative, plus out of necessity to survive
being clobbered, buffeted,
assaulted...finally please
zing lee melting titanic iceberg
more bearable on par with a sneeze
than compared to frigidity of writer's block!
primary idiopathic palmar/
palmoplantar hyperhidrosis
despite taking  Glycopyrrolate
2 MG Tablet three times daily.

Aforementioned physiological malady
the bane worse than death
unwanted and unwonted figurative
(metaphorical) beast of burden
linkedin with matrix constituting mine
corporeal essence genetically
gifted to yours truly,
invariably, objectionably, and unquestionably
afflicts, impacts, and upsets
emotional (mental) health
diagnosed with schizoid personality disorder
and aggravated, jump/kickstarted, triggered...,
when body electric
of mine experiences duress.

Tis no fun unable
to join in any reindeer games
(actually quite aggravating)
to experience chronic instances,
whereby profuse sweat drips
(think rivaling Angel Falls),
the loftiest falls on land
inducing extreme self
consciousness and embarrassment.

Socialization compromised,
jeopardized, and sabotaged
against natural proclivity to fraternize,
thus avoidance behavior
(i.e. social distancing) rigorously practiced
way before coronavirus (COVID-19)

mandated staying at least 6 feet
(about 2 arm's length) from other people.
I vaguely recollect even while in utero
sweaty hands cooled courtesy amniotic fluid
yet subsequently observing consternation
obstetrician displayed as

itty bitty teensy weensy fingers
dripped - think faucet turned on full force.
Mein kampf (predominantly
describes solitary existence)
severely exacerbated (still prominent)

ability to function undermined
courtesy deux part and parcel
significant aforestated physiological
and social congenital afflictions
somewhat ameliorated by
about half dozen prescription medications.

I keep hermetically sealed
within our single bedroom apartment
(we lucked out with unit B44
providing us scenic view)
climate controlled when weather
hazy, hot and humid
at sixty degrees Fahrenheit
(you do the math to figure
the Centigrade temperature),
nevertheless these stubby
five fingered appendages
ooze perspiration on par
with spigots gushing sweat.

Worse fate than death finds me
suffering one or more
dogged following plagues:
water turning to blood, frogs, lice,
flies, livestock pestilence, boils, hail,
locusts, darkness and killing
of firstborn children far less oppressive
versus being stricken with Hyperhidrosis.

Sain above identified unpleasant fallout
understandably, quintessentially, and inextricably
linkedin within every fiber
moost likely activated since conception - mine
body electric infiltrated nerve wracking
complex corporeal edifice
interestingly enough solely overbearing
while yours truly wide awake
bright tailed and bushy eyed,
yet sleep ofttimes brings

severely dislocating, disquieting
and discombobulating
subconscious nocturnal experiences,
which frightful, maniacal, and
phantasmagorical vivid dreams
undermines, oppresses, and impinges,
any joie de vivre
creating abominable hell on Earth
thus this dirt poor commoner
pronouncing his intent

to beg, borrow and/or steal
(sell my soul to the devil)
in a desperate effort to secure
and pay King's ransom
to rid myself once and for all
of parasite entrenched nemesis
bleeding dry, leeching, and yoking
writer christened Matthew Scott Harris,
whereby he doth regularly writhe in agony.
wont get a red cent from me
(explained by following words you see)

No...not until the 
     bitter cold temperature, 
     sans iron maiden 
     (Polar Vortex) grips 
Southeastern Montgomery County 
     (Perkiomen Valley) Pennsylvania 
     will this foo fighting 
      goo goo doll, beastie boy - hips
 
stir survivalist 
     wannabe contemplate 
     cracking on the heat, 
     no matter mine lips
might turn me, and 
     false teeth chatter 
     (even after taking them 
     out of my mouth)
  
     as the mercury dips
way below degrees 
     (Centigrade, Fahrenheit, 
     or Kelvin) oh Lord 
     will passing thought eclipse
penumbra of mine 
     cerebral cortex reckon eyes,
the benefits to future
 
     cryogenicists voluntarily becoming 
     (a frozen human 
     Guinea Pig) realize 
zing molecular biochemical 
     behavior practically 
     comes to a stand 
     still, I surmise,
which cessation of
  
     ordinary senescence buys
time until some 
     future age, when scientists 
     long since didst devise
strategies to approach immortality, 
     (viz keeping "live" body 
     electric factory completely 
     preserved), and get wise
 
to hidden secret to exorcize  
death be not 
     proud, thus putting 
     funeral parlors out of business, 
     which astute morticians who espies
the future, and how 
     the quaint practice, 
     asper burial plots
  
     (oh...so yesteryear), 
     and dramatically dies
down quickly giving rise
to the burgeoning enterprise
re: bajillion dollar franchise,
where death cab for cutie 
     offers ***** prize
a coffin (grateful dead set)
     "feign" to eulogize.
primary idiopathic palmar/
palmoplantar hyperhidrosis

Aforementioned physiological malady
unwanted and unwonted figurative
(metaphorical) beast of burden
linkedin with matrix constituting mine
corporeal essence genetically
gifted to yours truly,
invariably, objectionably, and unquestionably
afflicts, impacts, and upsets
emotional (mental) health
diagnosed with schizoid personality disorder.

Tis no fun unable
to join in any reindeer games
(actually quite aggravating)
to experience chronic instances,
whereby profuse sweat drips
(think rivaling Angel Falls),
the loftiest falls on land
inducing extreme self
consciousness and embarrassment.

Socialization compromised,
jeopardized, and sabotaged
against natural proclivity to fraternize,
thus avoidance behavior
(i.e. social distancing) rigorously practiced
way before coronavirus (COVID-19)

mandated staying at least 6 feet
(about 2 arms' length) from other people.
I vaguely recollect even while in utero
sweaty hands cooled courtesy amniotic fluid
yet subsequently observing consternation
obstetrician displayed as

itty bitty teensy weensy fingers
dripped - think faucet turned on full force.
Mein kampf (predominantly
describes solitary existence)
severely exacerbated (still prominent)

ability to function undermined
courtesy deux part and parcel
significant aforestated physiological
and social congenital afflictions
somewhat ameliorated by
about half dozen prescription medications.

I keep hermetically sealed
within our single bedroom apartment
(we lucked out with unit B44
providing us scenic view)
climate controlled at sixty degrees Fahrenheit
(you do the math to figure
the Centigrade temperature),
nevertheless these five fingered appendages
ooze perspiration on par
with spigots gushing sweat.

Worse fate than death finds me
suffering one or more
dogged following plagues:
water turning to blood, frogs, lice,
flies, livestock pestilence, boils, hail,
locusts, darkness and killing
of firstborn children far less oppressive
versus being stricken with Hyperhidrosis.

Sain above identified unpleasant fallout
understandably, quintessentially, and inextricably
linkedin within every fiber
moost likely activated since conception - mine
body electric infiltrated nerve wracking
complex corporeal edifice
interestingly enough solely overbearing
while yours truly wide awake
bright tailed and bushy eyed,
yet sleep ofttimes brings

severely dislocating, disquieting
and discombobulating
subconscious nocturnal experiences,
which frightful, maniacal, and
phantasmagorical vivid dreams
undermines, oppresses, and impinges,
any joie de vivre
creating abominable hell on Earth
thus this dirt poor commoner
pronouncing his intent

to beg, borrow and/or steal
(sell my soul to the devil)
in a desperate effort to secure
and pay King's ransom
to rid myself once and for all
of parasite entrenched nemesis
bleeding dry, leeching, and yoking
writer christened Matthew Scott Harris,
whereby he doth regularly writhe in agony.
primary idiopathic palmar/
palmoplantar hyperhidrosis
despite taking  Glycopyrrolate
2 MG  Tablet three times daily.

Aforementioned physiological malady
unwanted and unwonted figurative
(metaphorical) beast of burden
linkedin with matrix constituting mine
corporeal essence genetically
gifted to yours truly,
invariably, objectionably, and unquestionably
afflicts, impacts, and upsets
emotional (mental) health
diagnosed with schizoid personality disorder.

Tis no fun unable
to join in any reindeer games
(actually quite aggravating)
to experience chronic instances,
whereby profuse sweat drips
(think rivaling Angel Falls),
the loftiest falls on land
inducing extreme self
consciousness and embarrassment.

Socialization compromised,
jeopardized, and sabotaged
against natural proclivity to fraternize,
thus avoidance behavior
(i.e. social distancing) rigorously practiced
way before coronavirus (COVID-19)

mandated staying at least 6 feet
(about 2 arms' length) from other people.
I vaguely recollect even while in utero
sweaty hands cooled courtesy amniotic fluid
yet subsequently observing consternation
obstetrician displayed as

itty bitty teensy weensy fingers
dripped - think faucet turned on full force.
Mein kampf (predominantly
describes solitary existence)
severely exacerbated (still prominent)

ability to function undermined
courtesy deux part and parcel
significant aforestated physiological
and social congenital afflictions
somewhat ameliorated by
about half dozen prescription medications.

I keep hermetically sealed
within our single bedroom apartment
(we lucked out with unit B44
providing us scenic view)
climate controlled when weather
hazy, hot and humid
at sixty degrees Fahrenheit
(you do the math to figure
the Centigrade temperature),
nevertheless these stubby
five fingered appendages
ooze perspiration on par
with spigots gushing sweat.

Worse fate than death finds me
suffering one or more
dogged following plagues:
water turning to blood, frogs, lice,
flies, livestock pestilence, boils, hail,
locusts, darkness and killing
of firstborn children far less oppressive
versus being stricken with Hyperhidrosis.

Sain above identified unpleasant fallout
understandably, quintessentially, and inextricably
linkedin within every fiber
moost likely activated since conception - mine
body electric infiltrated nerve wracking
complex corporeal edifice
interestingly enough solely overbearing
while yours truly wide awake
bright tailed and bushy eyed,
yet sleep ofttimes brings

severely dislocating, disquieting
and discombobulating
subconscious nocturnal experiences,
which frightful, maniacal, and
phantasmagorical vivid dreams
undermines, oppresses, and impinges,
any joie de vivre
creating abominable hell on Earth
thus this dirt poor commoner
pronouncing his intent

to beg, borrow and/or steal
(sell my soul to the devil)
in a desperate effort to secure
and pay King's ransom
to rid myself once and for all
of parasite entrenched nemesis
bleeding dry, leeching, and yoking
writer christened Matthew Scott Harris,
whereby he doth regularly writhe in agony.
Shaun Yee May 2023
This early morning I got out of bed,
Found it was zero degrees centigrade,
And the air outside was crispy and cold,
A candid crispness had taken hold,
Feeding a feeling of freshness at play,
Surrounding this wonderful winter’s day;
Outside I saw rooftops covered with snow,
Also the shrubs in the gardens below,
Icing was on green leaves and trim tree tops,
And parking spaces where the squirrel hops,
A scene to keep in memory always,
When I do deviate to depressing days.
Ryan O'Leary Dec 2019
The birds are not discerning
about their drinking water.

Our bird bath acts as a both
a trough and a tub and toilet.

The starlings do all three,
often at the same time.

Finches, Robins, Wrens and
Wagtails, merely for thirst.

This morning, it was minus 3˚
centigrade in Mallow Ireland.

There was a solid block of ice
in the dished container.

Easily removed in one piece,
upside down, like a **** cake.
Ryan O'Leary Jan 2020
We have a clear blue sky,
a crescent moon, Venus, a
Starling feeding from our
hanging basket filled with
seeds purchased at Starsky
& Hutch's store in Buttevant.



19th Jan 2020 - 4˚ Centigrade
Mallow Republic of Ireland.
Ryan O'Leary Jan 2020
Today it occurred to me,
(at minus 4 ˚ centigrade)
when our water trough
beside the bird feeder,
(which had visible grains
under the ice), was being
jack hammered by beaks
of the Corvidae family,
that this must have been
the etymology of the well
used word of a Crowbar!

— The End —