"chloride" poems
I have hairy legs.
The dishwasher is broken.
I have been reading books.
I have been solving stupid math equations
I have to wash the food crusted dishes.
I’m writing a novella
I’m also researching sodium chloride
My novella is only six pages single-spaced so far.
Comment vous appelez-vous?
Why doesn’t anyone participate
In the
Wash Your Own **** Dishes Program?
I’m studying French.
-b +/- Square root of b2 – 4 (a)(b) over 2(a)
Anyways.
I have been teaching myself
How to play my
Black
Stretchy
Accordion.
[I don’t know why,
But it’s stretchy
Like mozzarella cheese]
I have to help my sister-in-law move
Into my house.
Into the basement.
Heh heh heh.
Daiya non-dairy cheese:
“Melts and stretches!”
Now I have to scrape the
Black tar gunk
Off the plates, because
Mother told me to do so.
Oh, the odium of sodium!
There is
No more time
For me
To shave
My legs.
Apr 6, 2011
Apr 6, 2011 at 7:15 PM UTC
the pitch dark symmetry
of spiral engraved
glossy jet black
vinyl
the ***** claws
and webbed spiders;
graced with impeccable
scratch
words come back around
from dog day afternoon;
entwined in ritual
beatology
technique absorbed in prowess
dedication assimilated by passion;
human form and synthetic resin becomes
overlayed
polyvinyl chloride or
unsaturated hydrocarbon radicals;
a derivative by any other
name
I'll leave that nugget for the pub quiz
and relax, post-Christmas stress;
the street scramble bustle,
embrace a pint of
black magic
Dec 16, 2012
Dec 16, 2012 at 10:28 AM UTC
Two lovers died tonight.
Together they sipped glasses of potassium chloride.
To others their love was unjust,
to each other, their deaths were a must.
In a jungle of segregation,
they were forced for permanent separation
one that they both could not adjust.
To each other, their deaths were a must.
They decided to take a firm stand,
held glasses of sorrow in each hand
and as they both had discussed
to each other, their deaths were a must.
Two lovers died tonight,
to each other, their deaths were a must.
Aug 28, 2013
Aug 28, 2013 at 1:55 PM UTC
The ocean has a salinity of about 3.5%
And contains mostly sodium chloride
Which is the same salt that streaks
Down my cheeks whenever I cry
But I didn't notice a difference
The evening I wandered into high tide
Despite the warnings offered by lifeguards
"The current is rough and the sand is steep"
But I was determined to wash
Every ounce of you off of me
But it seemed that no matter how many waves
Crashed against me and knocked me off my feet
No amount of water would cleanse me.
So the next best thing I could think of
Was to exhale every vapor of you
And fill my lungs with saltwater
And it reminded me of falling in love
And I drowned just as effortlessly.
Aug 13, 2013
Aug 13, 2013 at 2:10 PM UTC
I think of seawater
because of its briny tang,
because when,
by accident,
it trips into my mouth,
coats the inside of my cheeks
in a clear, chloride gloss.
I think of seawater
because of the way
it blooms along the shore,
dazzling white jewels
slinking up our toes,
our feet left with a glimmer,
slippery and clean.
I think of seawater
because your hair was soaked,
chestnut brown trickles
wriggling down your face
and I could smell the beach
in the pool of your neck,
fresh and transparent
at the crook of your lips.
Sep 12, 2015
Sep 12, 2015 at 11:45 AM UTC
We took a bus to Wilmington
And skipped a dream or two
In order to be cognizant—
When the “Are we there yet’s”
Rebounded void of “yet.”
We parked the bus adjacent to
The paint-peeling facade
Of lonely temple Wilmington—
Threatening no demon of the sky
With a keenly polished death spike.
It had no spendthrift window of
Christ Jesus with the sick
And poor, neglected derelicts—
Who glow with jubilee and gold chloride
For His altruistic charities.
Across its door was fastened tight
A rusted iron chain
Which barred the shallow, blinkered souls—
Who loitered at the barrier’s feet
Waiting on God to warrant entry.
But we who were of cogent view
Detached deterring catch
And entered with our chins *****
A light-bulb-vacant sanctuary
Where taciturn shadows took a seat in every pew.
And down a velvet aisle stood
A lonely, weeping priest
Inhaling in unblemished palms—
That not a single pious doubter
Would dare inspect.
“Welcome to my church,” he said
With breathless, choking sobs,
“I am the congregation here—
The pastor, choir, usher, and Sunday school teacher
Of Wilmington Church of Reason.”
Inquired we what hidden woe
Enlaced with torment cast
Those salt discharged convulsions—
Quaking the sanctity of exultation
In the House of Apollo.
And with concise, unleavened words
He justified his tears
And whispered to our weary troop—,
“Alone, alone am I,
Isolated within this box of omitted truth.
“O, give me soothing slumber deep
And strip these sentient eyes
From ghastly sheaths of consciousness—
Repair this mended paradigm,
Or tell me that I am mistaken.
“Imaginary friends and foes
Make wretched hearts a wreath
Of roses red and mistletoe—
And bird of paradise to keep
Hope alive, alive and awake and well, hope alive…”
So each of us, a brimming cup
Of empathy, remained
To keep old pastor Wilmington—
Old usher, choir, teacher, congregation Wilmington
Alive and awake and well.
Nov 29, 2011
Nov 29, 2011 at 6:09 AM UTC
They put her in a
Curtained cubicle
Surrounded by
Beeping machines
And all types of
Wires and terminals
A trashcan and
A dripping faucet
When they rolled her in
They gave her
Morphine
Sodium chloride
And a pat on the head
"She's lucky"
The nurse said
As he lowered the gurney
"A lot of people have
No one show up"
And he left the room
Pulled the curtain closed
We were left with the
Tranquil beeping of
Faceless terminals
And the dripping faucet
Another nurse came in
With a clipboard
And started asking us
Questions
Apologizing for
The beeping
"It's like Chinese
Water torture"
Then she left
Pulled the curtain closed
And when the
Heart monitor
Started beeping
We pushed the
Silence button like
They showed us
We were left with
The sterile squeaking
Of the soles of sneakers
And hollow whispers
In the hallway
And the dripping faucet
Jul 18, 2016
Jul 18, 2016 at 11:30 AM UTC
I am loved to be
Strong in relationships
Like common salt
We daily use
Sodium Chloride(NaCl)
Ionic bonding
But, I am afraid of
Water (H2O)
Can have
Strength to
Break us
How strong we are
Making situation worse
Jul 14, 2014
Jul 14, 2014 at 1:32 PM UTC
I'm two different people
They're polar opposites
My chemistry teacher has probably seen it
Everyone has
Just like hydrogen chloride
You don't have to go through the hell of a textbook to solve this one
I lie to myself
I want everyone to see how lonely and hurt I am, tell me I can trust them, hold me
I want to be loved
I don't want to be alone
When you're around you need to stay
Everything's better and it all goes away
I never knew what that was like
But that's the thing about polarity,
the positive comes with a negative
Go away
Go away
As far as you can
Run and break your ankle
But don't, I can't stand to see you hurt
Why won't you love me?
LEAVE
Leave
Or care
And I become pathetic
I miss you and I can't make up my mind
...
I guess molecules don't do that
Feb 5, 2012
Feb 5, 2012 at 1:40 AM UTC
so limp,
so frail.
so dead.
inject potassium chloride
into me next.
please.
maybe that'll finally stop
my already dead
heart.
Nov 25, 2015
Nov 25, 2015 at 12:36 AM UTC
He sprinkles salt in my wounds, gently, as every word digs deeper and deeper
He deprives my life of flavor, saving it like ammo for the next fresh water war
He buries me in a pile of crystals
Shining, sparkling, dazzling, until they dehydrate every ounce of ambrosial hope
He throws salt over his shoulder for 'good luck', leaving anything and everything behind him burning, withering
Like binging and purging, the ocean rolling in and out, he's suffocating me under what he claimed was sugar
Like the mastermind behind water-boarding, he jerks me left and right, pure and tainted, innocent and soiled
He promises that this time it's Confectioner's
He promises the water he's leading me to is fresh
But every time it's salt
And I'm the definition of insane, constantly falling for the same look in his eyes, the same half smile
And every grain is one hundred lies,
And every grain brings another ten-year war
Sodium chloride might as well be cyanide
Simple table salt bottles may as well be containers of gunpowder
We're fighting through the desert, sand turned into his favorite compound
We're losing, bleeding, lacerated, with only his promises as bandages
I'm betrayed by my own body, as I wipe my tears and realize their chemical makeup
I'm trying to explain why I panic if my dish is too salty, why I panic if I'm near the ocean
I'm rebuilding my pallet, substitution after substitution
I'm learning to use other spices
I'm remembering the taste of a simpler world.
I'm washing over my scars with water I filtered myself.
Sep 14, 2015
Sep 14, 2015 at 10:15 PM UTC
I can't know what having nerves is like.
I don't want anything anymore.
I was never told by my mother to clean my room.
My room has been ***** ever since just so one day I hope she comes in raising hell just so I'll clean up.
My room remains close friends with the dump because I'm still waiting for that day so I can make it spotless.
I never knew what to do with those mother's day cards I was forced to make in school.
Maybe they were delivered to her by some divine mail man that never showed up.
Maybe I wasn't on their map, maybe I'm not on the map, maybe I shouldn't be on the map, maybe I should burn that map down with cliches of passion, maybe I should make my own map of the hills I've crossed, the ones I never tried to cross, the places I've been, the places I've never been, the place I was yesterday, the place I was today, the place I'll go tomorrow, and where it all ends.
X marks the spot.
I've stood upon the soil she cried on.
Up grew the tongues of people that could tell me "what really happened."
I chose to spray pesticides on those beautiful plants.
Instead I let weeds grow there.
They told me the truth, but too much of one thing is filling.
So in return I fed them salt so nothing would grow there ever again.
Sodium Chloride silenced the truth, I realized later that the soil sat in my ears and I made myself deaf and shot my foot off.
Sodium Chloride was the cyanide to my soil.
I drew a map of that soil.
It turned into a maze that I never did figure out how to get out of.
I still don't know how to feel, I can't even feel the crumpled map you threw out on how to reach me.
Oct 7, 2013
Oct 7, 2013 at 2:44 AM UTC
Vinyl Chloride
I will never believe
in you again,
There is harm in
trusting a delusive
person like you;
Your damage replays,
others can see the
debris from your mistakes;
if only I were made of bricks,
then maybe, you
wouldn't weigh as much,
but because I'm
not made of bricks,
I'm vulnerable,
starring tired flesh
and equally tired heart.
Jan 1, 2017
Jan 1, 2017 at 6:07 AM UTC
telling me to grow up
it feels constructive
when you insert the potassium chloride into me
gay as morbid men’s amusement
spill into my bloodstream
some children cry
but sometime ago
i let out so many tears that i died
chloride can only preserve what i’ve seen
it’s all nothing
there’s no more dreams
where do i go at night
i can’t tell you the last thing that child uttered
his final breath didn’t matter
boys don’t cry after all
they **** their minds and **** what’s left
Apr 6, 2021
Apr 6, 2021 at 5:50 PM UTC
1 a.m.
"sylvia plath aesthetics" on google search
overwhelmed by the pages excerpts
click a link
close the tabs
tosca curtains
tv sound
smoking brothers
polka dot pajamas matching the face
wonder if the mirror would break today
religious villa
wide glass windows not high enough
useless hills
some are sleeping
shy ghosts
panic attacks
catch breath like solar cells
sunless
penniless
nostalgic sourness
hydrogen chloride solution in water
stomachache
period 4 days late
muscle spasms
skeletal recreation
fireworks
involuntary flow of old stale traumas
haven the escapee
banana diet and menopause
blank tombstone: a perfect biography
Jul 7, 2016
Jul 7, 2016 at 2:31 PM UTC
Vinyl Chloride
I try to soothe
my haggard mind
late at night,
I try to run from you,
because your damage
soaked all my bones
and all the happiness I owned.
Your name dug my grave
ahead of time,
I'm sorry, but you crossed a line;
You cannot trespass my heart,
you cannot say you loved me most
because when I bled in the dark,
your presence was a ghost.
Jan 11, 2017
Jan 11, 2017 at 9:24 PM UTC
lost ardor, long hidden beneath these initial wastes
pinpointing the mines and matters, estimations and worth
your excavation operating on the surface of my bereavement
without any evaluation of its dolorous costs or the extent
of these ductile veins, rivers through our subterranean natures
your shadow requirements, eroded and befouled
now, neither my eyes nor I much love your dark
epicardial secrets, projecting deposits of debris, the chloride fragrance
of our secrets, hidden fires underground; your love, all and away
digging, mining proposed new lovers out of us both; gravels and
pain and gas; ferrous exploration; uranium reclamation anew via
caustic layers of ore and deposits of once-flowing love
alloys of dead flowers and waste form my rocks
seething into scabrous life like bantling cacti after a lover has risen
such risks always require a proportion of love be livid, recoverable;
threads of passion dissolved in the complexities of the body
grains of unconsolidated minerals evoking love and potash
yes, secret metallurgists like you pose acidic dangers
to my soft endocardial things
Jun 23, 2019
Jun 23, 2019 at 12:59 PM UTC
Punished by the sun
in a desert of our love.
Slipshod the sailing stones,
how dispassion speckles the playa floor,
salt pans dissolve motivating force.
I'm a man returning to his ground.
You're a woman seeking refuge
in the cracked crevices of my rib cage.
So far below sea level,
where does love go from here to survive?
Perhaps, Chloride City
and the grave of a James McKay?
Maybe at Bottle House in Rhyolite,
the "Queen City"?
Either way, this sensation has become an unsacred mirage:
the watering hole, a leadfield,
with which we can only look back from.
Praying the sulfur in the sky
passes on from this place,
before we turn into something sodium, something akin to
Lot's careless wife.
Jul 8, 2020
Jul 8, 2020 at 9:20 PM UTC
It quickly became clear that I had to stop the chase
So I turned my back and felt the tears stream down my face
I didn't want to let go, to move on to some new boy
To show another love and admiration
But it became apparent, like when the sun's fingers touch my skin, that I had to.
So I began to walk and let myself crumble, let my walls tumble
I tried hard not to trip and fumble, but I failed and stumbled
I had to look back, just had to. Would I my atoms change form and become Chloride and Sodium, bond together to turn me to a pillar of salt? Would looking into his eyes halt my heart and turn in cold as my muscles, bones, and blood turned to rough granite?
I turned to face him, turned to his direction
The chance of stay live was grim but I need to see his complexion
And I saw it
And I saw him
And I saw his eyes
And.....
Apr 6, 2013
Apr 6, 2013 at 10:40 AM UTC
let's sway as the honey runs through our veins
let's forget ourselves as we stand on the edge
you really struck a nerve on me
you really made me forget myself
this is nearly the end
for you and me could be
but from far behind I will just forget about the end
you keep staring at me
even when I'm down
I almost feel as confident
as you
I found myself sitting down in the pool
chloride blue
no surprise this is often how it's done
but lately it's about all you can take
but mainly it's because your life it's the same
maybe the scars won't matter when I'm asleep
Mar 4, 2016
Mar 4, 2016 at 8:06 AM UTC
He is a man who rules a woman's
Sexuality of *** rather from the
games of Old times hidden Long
hair at least 7 years ago
Amazing Spider's Ripple spider
Lori, Lori 18 years with the compact
warrior; Very little MINI
and a half pounds in some stars;
Tom Thomas Dakota, New, A Boi,
French Romanian Latin Black, Hard
and strong 18 Ryan Returns Red
Glittering Big Goblin Neutral Goblin
Influence - beautiful tooth decay
and old dolls, all languages,
Semi-Hellenic citizenship and Arabs.
Black skin and bones, hydrogen
and other materials are hard,
firm but hard to see in the nineteenth
century. The primary cause
of this system is kidney or helium /
chloride / child /
death / sun / skin disease BC. But there are many popular travels
in Cincinnati. "KARNIKA 546 EVENTS"
was very short ... The full name Rahi, Sadia Bali,
who climbed to the best cells,
sometimes Taliban Pep Juan Mauritius -
John King of Rome. The right answer is
"an unknown wave, so MyHealthHe
is the first in the Indian Ocean".
But it is better for your mother
and grandparents when you are sleeping
in the Roma family. He now supports
the Toledo rule and the golden gold huts.
"In 1848, the French wanted to play
one of the 18 contestants in the world,
but a young girl went to school
and gave her daughter a good teacher,
4 Samay, and I expected Haydazan
and another community to tell me
to do it this is the main reason for this:
"It's the same word that is very
similar to the word" ll ", but it's a bad word.
It is the same thing that happened
to Kevin Jovín - Roman King Kimi
This is the true answer: "I'm so happy, I hope to grow my life."
"Duggy Pegg, Mahatma Kei
And the Kumhaekkid
"There are poor people, Dodo,"
Machine Part Machine,
Then Rushu and each used by Rachel,
You cannot do it.
Feb 5, 2019
Feb 5, 2019 at 8:37 AM UTC
Every time I think of you,
you make my heart swell
that it feels as if I have been
diagnosed with potassium chloride overdose.
Feb 26, 2017
Feb 26, 2017 at 5:07 AM UTC
My heart burns without presence
Your mouth says my name and voice still sounds the same
The inner damsel in me fights way through my flesh
Leading her by glow of all the potential I set on fire
My hot skin itches for touch while yours is soothed by a thick coat of reassurance
Is medicated by unwavering dose of devotion
My wound so raw and pain so sharp knives flee in fear of injury
My blood screaming for recognition
Like how many drops must be spilled for you to acknowledge I'm dying?
How many cuts appear before you notice I'm not well?
Hell
At this point begging for my tissue to be pulled in two directions and a massive amount of sodium chloride poured in
Would relish the agonizing
Unpredicted sting
Because at least that means I can tell you know I'm not alright
You seem to understand exactly where to rub the salt in
Not where to bandage
Oct 31, 2024
Oct 31, 2024 at 9:38 PM UTC
2 major anomalies that i didn't even
scratch upon, whatever university
education taught me with regards to
chemistry: i still don't know the
chemical formulae / formulas of
sea water... and timber -
carbon is obviously
included in the latter -
but how the hell does Na-Cl
(sodium chloride) bind to water?
the secret is in the quantity of it apparent,
but it's a ****** mystery to me -
as is the adequate formula for wood -
no one taught me that... mainly because
no one at university took an interest
in these two concern of mine... well,
now they're also your concerns;
which suggests that arguing the existence
of god, precipitates simpler argument
for something else,
while arguing against... precipitates shallow
comparisons, akin to statistical improbabilities -
added to the fact that paternal or maternal
theologies end in disaster - or crucifixions
and atom bombs - argued: i'll hang on
the cross until my words come true:
and people will cling to my words and
follow up my predictions with an atom bomb:
much easier to make satire with someone
sitting on a throne, or the throne of
thrones: a toilet.
Sep 13, 2016
Sep 13, 2016 at 6:54 PM UTC
My eyes feel like acid,
Last night’s tears still hurt.
Jul 23, 2013
Jul 23, 2013 at 6:20 AM UTC