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"congesting" poems
i like to listen to bobby womack sing "fly me to the moon" while thinking of jeff's blue origin rocketship exploding in the air all his pride crashing down in pieces recorded for the whole world to see because i have walked unhappily down the streets of soulless south lake union where clueless people walk by dumbly raising rents congesting traffic thinking they are off to change the world crying about peter dinklage yellowfacing herve villechaize, their stupidity knows no bounds always hard at work in south lake union producing nothing that won't be obsolete the second it is completed purposely designed to make our lives unaffordable **** jeff and all his tech bro henchmen who do nothing but steal the sun from the poor
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Oct 21, 2018
Oct 21, 2018 at 1:57 AM UTC
songs to get ****** to
Dostoyevsky said, “your worst sin is that you have destroyed and betrayed yourself for nothing.” I've felt rage seething in my chest for as long as I can remember. I've felt as his talons ripped open my sternum, digging for a place to call home. this rage has nestled deep into my ribcage, devouring my will to survive while carelessly residing within my nightmares. I've surrendered to this forsaken depression fury has vacated deep in the confines of my irises - despite witnessing myself across grey-tinted glasses; a smoldering storm rippling miasma throughout my body, manipulating my hands into a devout pyromaniac; suffocating every chance to heal. I've known nothing but bitterness congesting my heart. My dreams were burdened dreadfully with the stench of wrath. it mutilated my arms; burrowing into capillaries, and asphyxiating my habit to vanish. This incessant sin I've endured has brought me to my knees, existing only to ***** out my ability to be a mortal in an unforgiving universe. I am not a cosmic metaphor, the iron residing underneath my skin has become impenetrable. I am adorned with stillness while this betrayal has bloomed into a supernova. the things in which I lack have ignited into an endlessly violent explosion - Atomizing my bones, swirling stardust into a forlorn emptiness. A world that was held by the unfaltering resistance I persevered against, it has ravaged my memories, my moribund existence trembled; shivering from the growl of the recoil - the remnants of creation kissed abysmal lips within the faraway distance of a boundless abyss, raining tears for the last time as the destruction leaves a life void of meaning. The last words ever heard in this universe spoke softly as if to lull the existential bereft into a long hiatus - "This was all for nothing, just as destitute as this vacant nothingness, human life is ill-fated to be star-crossed and powerless."
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Sep 25, 2024
Sep 25, 2024 at 6:51 PM UTC
Cosmic Metaphor
Dostoyevsky said, “your worst sin is that you have destroyed and betrayed yourself for nothing.” I've felt rage seething in my chest for as long as I can remember. I've felt as his talons ripped open my sternum, digging for a place to call home. this rage has nestled deep into my ribcage, devouring my will to survive while carelessly residing within my nightmares. I've surrendered to this forsaken depression fury has vacated deep in the confines of my irises - despite witnessing myself across grey-tinted glasses; a smoldering storm rippling miasma throughout my body, manipulating my hands into a devout pyromaniac; suffocating every chance to heal. I've known nothing but bitterness congesting my heart. My dreams were burdened dreadfully with the stench of wrath. it mutilated my arms; burrowing into capillaries, and asphyxiating my habit to vanish. This incessant sin I've endured has brought me to my knees, existing only to ***** out my ability to be a mortal in an unforgiving universe. I am not a cosmic metaphor, the iron residing underneath my skin has become impenetrable. I am adorned with stillness while this betrayal has bloomed into a supernova. the things in which I lack have ignited into an endlessly violent explosion - Atomizing my bones, swirling stardust into a forlorn emptiness. A world that was held by the unfaltering resistance I persevered against, it has ravaged my memories, my moribund existence trembled; shivering from the growl of the recoil - the remnants of creation kissed abysmal lips within the faraway distance of a boundless abyss, raining tears for the last time as the destruction leaves a life void of meaning. The last words ever heard in this universe spoke softly as if to lull the existential bereft into a long hiatus - "This was all for nothing, just as destitute as this vacant nothingness, human life is ill-fated to be star-crossed and powerless."
Continue reading...
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Galactic curls in spirals swirl, entwining twisted mystery, where time unrolls in blackened holes, no longer bright and blistery, but writ like runes on starry dunes enclosed in cosmic history Galactic dust, from novas' gusts, congesting empty spaces once fatefully flung beyond the tongue of burnt out astral traces, may recompress and coalesce in distant times and places Galactic dwarves, like ancient wharves with silent planets mooring yet still in spin though long done in, hide flares no longer soaring - magnetic webs of eons ebb, in thermal fusion roaring Galactic tides warp space divides, call forth sublime creation while bending clocks in rippled shocks, unfolding time dilation that seems to crown the flowing gown of pulsars' pulsed gyration Galactic stew, a seething brew, midst background noise and chatter like Chaos reigns, the sole remains of missing antimatter, with just a trace to form a space-time, curved or somewhat flatter Galactic glue holds something new: dark energy and matter that interacts and counteracts the ancient Big Bang splatter: a cosmic soup of strings and loops, a universal batter Galactic life's replete and rife 'neath lactic milky wafer, though solar gales leave unseen trails of cosmic rays, the strafer; but nonetheless, one must confess, it seems there's nowhere safer
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Aug 21, 2016
Aug 21, 2016 at 8:54 AM UTC
Galactic Glimpses
The same doors open from bedroom to bathroom and house to car.   A poor vehicle, it's body stable yet barely in service so poor-- cracks and scrapes, half a grill missing, the brand and emblem since eroded and long withered. A turned key brings either exhausted startles or sputters congesting from the engine. Or is it just the ignition? All familiar moments from the same minute at the same turn initiating the redundancy to follow. So that car--my car shall endure upon my abandoning from the minutes before morning's end to early evening's last light swelling from the sun's sultriness, creaking where wheels meet brakes and they the axis, springs and suspension as the thin cold does to frail human fingers.
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May 4, 2014
May 4, 2014 at 11:26 PM UTC
Tired Drive, Tired Day
a miniscule voice to work with and a classic heart longing for an audience to captivate with its tales of crumbling by the shots made from games she play when the time dissolves ease and words that keep a mind numb become disease tears from our destinies flood the earth the skies entice us into a departure we're leaving the earth with congesting and dissonant waste often in haste we jump into anything promising to take us a distance from here issue a plan contingent with a broken scar healing in a sense, we all long to be heard but noone can know what we mean when our motive veils our words when this time dissolves ease and thoughts that keep a mind numb become disease tears from our destinies flood all of earth the skies entice us into a departure we're leaving the earth with congesting and dissonant waste often in haste we jump into anything promising to take us a distance from here tragedy will condition our beliefs designing a new path into nods condoning the beauty in destruction of self-inflicted progress into tomorrow
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May 6, 2013
May 6, 2013 at 9:42 PM UTC
divisible by three
. Another smirking moon, I haven’t slept for two days Thoughts of her, of us, dreams I used to have, visions of happiness now faded nightmare images, swirling in my head, congesting my brain I try, I pretend, I wrap my arms around my pillow, it's not the same, not even ******* close Rapid (open) eye movements Tear stained cheeks, (I can't stop crying) wet sheets "not the good kind", tossing and turning, kicking off the covers, pulling them back, missing her smile, her laugh, her I stare at nothing, bloodshot eyes reflecting red LED numbers blurred beyond midnight, ticking slowly, minute after minute after minute of loneliness Then, here it comes, another worthless sunrise Maybe someday she’ll come back to me, maybe someday she'll love me again, maybe someday I’ll get some sleep
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Sep 7, 2016
Sep 7, 2016 at 7:08 PM UTC
Maybe someday
Meanderings of maudlin whit Out beyond the thoughts that hit, On matters vital and profound, Which cause progression’s surge to ground. Rather those that sit mundane In ordinary pedestrian vein. Living thoughts which cloud the mind, Congesting inspiration’s  find. Sifting thoughts of where to cope To seek diversion’s antidote, To caste away confusion’s hiss, To render clear...creation’s KISS! Marshalg 8 March 2012
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Mar 7, 2012
Mar 7, 2012 at 4:57 PM UTC
Sweetlip's Thought
*I know you're biting on your tongue so hard you might bleed Holding your breath,congesting your lungs But the words are biting you with greed Your face is flashing red and pink You have a lot boiling, trying to decide* **I don't know what to think But I'm no longer at ease Even if I don't know what it is Your eyes are trying to speak but I can't decrypt their silence you're pale and looking sick has something come between us and by asking I'm making it worse? Why are you suddenly cold Is it something you were told** *Speak, why have the smiles died and your face says you've cried? why is your hair looking wild Has someone hurt you love child? You know when you hurt I hurt You know you have my heart I'm breaking the more in the uncertainty I'm losing the grip on sanity Are you afraid I won't understand you know I understand, I try speak dove, don't just cry Your tears are a thing I can't stand*
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Jan 26, 2016
Jan 26, 2016 at 4:51 AM UTC
SPEAK
The dark void Engulfing me with every Stride. Black. The mixture of every color Yet...the only one that can show the stars. Darkness is my friend Darkness is me. But light pushes around me Breaking Breaking me in half Wrenching away the only Warm Comfort I Have Ripping the cold that I call home Away from my writhing soul. "I can't breath." I've told people that before, but it was nothing like this. My lungs are caving In My friend- My only friend Has betrayed me. It reaches inside me, Congesting Everything. My fingers are numb, My thoughts are void, Slipping like short-lived treasures through my dead fingers. Nothing exists. Outside of me. And yet- Everything does, And only I am dead. Nothing lives in me. My breath is gone My thoughts are fleeing "I won't hurt you, I swear. I just want my friend back- I just want the void."
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Feb 28, 2015
Feb 28, 2015 at 10:53 AM UTC
I prefer the shadows
Walking in the bookstores, searching, questing, testing, which book is the one, not for fun, or congesting, IT will fill the hole in my dissatisfaction, it will give meaning to an otherwise empty space filled by my warm body. I have been at this for years, sometimes I walk out with less than I went in, other times I walk out with what I bought and it is all for naught and leaves me cold to the touch, doesn't matter much, in my dysthymic passive aggressive crunch. I have Jesus, and I hope it does not take me until eternity to have my ah-ha moment, good or bad, don't point me at an omen. Life is as fluid is the water cycle, and as hard to find as the water table, in the desert. So how do I leave you; I don't know the answer to the impossible question, a cramp in my digestion, a cactus thorn in my side, doubt not only clouds my mind and evaporates my sound judge- ment; but would I recognize, or would it be discovered a surprise, if I found what I was really looking for. ©DWE072013
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Jul 7, 2013
Jul 7, 2013 at 12:11 AM UTC
Oh him, he is just a warm body, cold to the touch.
When she catches his eye his heart traps her, tearing her in two creating a hurricane of lust ripping through her veins Katrina's tides of raging emotion Ike's crazed passion and urge she longs for him an ache in her chest weighing her soul down crushing her lungs, compressing her conscience forcing out its raspy whispers of lies manipulating her to smoke his air congesting her mind with an addiction her body coughs with a deficiency of his presence all she needs is a quick smile or the brush of his hand, painting a new arousal in her eyes even though he is blind to her existence but she is binded to another a rib, Adam and Eve Lust is a snake, biting the hand that feeds it poisoning her with deceitful eyes and white lies all is fair in love and war but can you pay the fine that follows a marionette controlled by the strings of curiosity playing tug of the war with the strings of the heart favoring the side of confusion she is lost flashbacks of her lover rewind in her brain as she risk deserting what she knows for another what she knows starts to deteriorate leaving a skeleton of a once happy heart as she is thrown in the triangle of love
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Mar 4, 2014
Mar 4, 2014 at 10:54 PM UTC
Triangle of Love
I am protecting my heart Because it won't be mine for long I know that I cannot and do not want To chart my life into boxes forever I guess the goal is to remain myself As I get swept off my feet continually To allow that chemical imbalance That is me to infuse with what Is bigger than me Be guided by what you get lost in I can see how I will end up alone Although at times on purpose hibernation Needs to be (I need to be) and you or I Or my center will come to me Strict minuscule gardening or internal Self-bartering Organizing my boxes of ideas of what Should be or 'what I want' Congesting the pathways of sprawling madness I will continue in my goals but only To break myself for you So I can offer my truest self Which will not be mine for long
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Mar 23, 2017
Mar 23, 2017 at 9:11 AM UTC
I Am Protecting My Heart
The hour strikes to midnight And I find myself consumed As these thoughts choke me They grasp my mind intensely Gripping me with every strength I toss I turn No sleep Just wonder Regret from the past Fear of the future And hurt from today I cannot seem to find control No air to fill my lungs Nor peace to calm my flesh Just chaos in my head Congesting me with vigor I question everything I can As I long for all that could be And die to all that has been I lay here empty in my soul For giving up all that I sewed The birds chirp as the sun rises And my eyes sink deeper As I think to the point of death I burn from the exhaustions I throb from the insomnia Yet my body fights my flesh That I gave up long ago
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Jan 4, 2015
Jan 4, 2015 at 12:26 AM UTC
Poem X
I sit here engrossed with cracked reflections of myself, attending the interpretation that I am a lost cause. Contemplation of the future captures my scrutiny, yet brings me to a future of pandemonium’s obscurity and thoughtlessness. It seems the more I think the more compulsive I become to hunt this incapable game. Grim introspection moves swiftly through my head. Thoughts of ****** and self-immolation fill the air around me. Congesting me, forcing me to fight for one more breath, one more reason to move forward. I feel as if these blithering thoughts are drawing me to the bottom. My conclusions are empty to this world I live in, launching me away from this place. Like a rocket I’ll sore past it's entirety I’ll extend past the highest peak on the tallest mountain. Until I pass the azure. Until I share my footprints on the moon.
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Jun 12, 2014
Jun 12, 2014 at 12:01 AM UTC
Behind the Curtain
Your pale white countenance Developing perfect pools of black Your comfort euphoric Your presence detrimental You're insomnia You're Lust You're Impotence Your face numbing effusiveness Congesting rhinal highways. You're too much You're too little You're too Dangerous
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Mar 3, 2020
Mar 3, 2020 at 11:51 AM UTC
You