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"craned" poems
One badass chick, she strutted like a peacock all the way down the block. Men craned their necks just to catch a glimpse of her, flicking her cigarette, shaking her wares. She walked right on by me & winked, had a little smirk on her precious puckered-lips. Geez, what a head of hair. And though it made me sick, I kind of giggled to check out her aftermath. Guys just stood there in awe, dumbfounded, bug-eyed & I counted no less than six hanging-tongues drooling.
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Jul 8, 2014
Jul 8, 2014 at 4:50 PM UTC
Six Hanging Tongues (One Badass Chick)
This morning, out in lightly falling snow, I heard geese as flights of them flew overhead. Like a shot I was ten again, Grammy and I at the lake. I’d sit in the bow of my canoe, pulled awkwardly ashore, neck craned back to watch the sky. I was always sad to see them go; their calls so many cold goodbyes. Ice encrusted water slushed against the dock in slow motion waves. It was time to seek new horizons, where waves of Floridian waters would embrace the geese. My grandmother said that every new adventure started with goodbyes to one thing or another. If I were ever to have a shot at following my dreams, there’d be farewells as I reached for the sky. Instinct would lead me onward to my accomplished bow. One year Momma and Poppa Goose stayed behind, a nest in the bow of my boat. The wintery sky turned black with departing waves. They would call out as the flying ones filled the sky. Wounded wing grounded Poppa. (Canada geese mate for life.) Momma would not leave her mate, recently shot during hunting season. She would not yet say her goodbyes. This, then, was the winter of no cold goodbyes. Before school, pony tailed hair with ribboned bow, blowing in the stiff breeze, I’d take a shot at keeping ice from the edge of the lake, waves arrowing out as they swam. The geese, with an itch in their wings, anxious for a return to their sky. That summer Poppa introduced his flock to the sky, practiced formational takeoffs leading to goodbyes. Clouds overhead gathered gray with unfallen snow as the geese took flight. My two watching for a moment, dipping heads in an elegant bow, before joining in the aerial ballet of strong winged waves. Grammy’s strong hand gripped my shoulder, then-- the parting shot. Grammy joined the geese beyond the horizon. No miracle shot or endless love could keep her with me. Heaven was in the sky. I knew she was watching although there’d been no time for final waves. Her new adventure started without time for goodbyes. Outside, snow blanketed as I cried myself to sleep. Her final bow had been silent, but she’d been telling me, as had the geese. Overhead the geese are shaftless arrows shot from an instinctual bow piercing the morning sky with their raucous goodbyes. Time waves.
0
Oct 23, 2011
Oct 23, 2011 at 6:16 PM UTC
Flight Home ~ A Sestina
This morning, out in lightly falling snow, I heard geese as flights of them flew overhead. Like a shot I was ten again, Grammy and I at the lake. I’d sit in the bow of my canoe, pulled awkwardly ashore, neck craned back to watch the sky. I was always sad to see them go; their calls so many cold goodbyes. Ice encrusted water slushed against the dock in slow motion waves. It was time to seek new horizons, where waves of Floridian waters would embrace the geese. My grandmother said that every new adventure started with goodbyes to one thing or another. If I were ever to have a shot at following my dreams, there’d be farewells as I reached for the sky. Instinct would lead me onward to my accomplished bow. One year Momma and Poppa Goose stayed behind, a nest in the bow of my boat. The wintery sky turned black with departing waves. They would call out as the flying ones filled the sky. Wounded wing grounded Poppa. (Canada geese mate for life.) Momma would not leave her mate, recently shot during hunting season. She would not yet say her goodbyes. This, then, was the winter of no cold goodbyes. Before school, pony tailed hair with ribboned bow, blowing in the stiff breeze, I’d take a shot at keeping ice from the edge of the lake, waves arrowing out as they swam. The geese, with an itch in their wings, anxious for a return to their sky. That summer Poppa introduced his flock to the sky, practiced formational takeoffs leading to goodbyes. Clouds overhead gathered gray with unfallen snow as the geese took flight. My two watching for a moment, dipping heads in an elegant bow, before joining in the aerial ballet of strong winged waves. Grammy’s strong hand gripped my shoulder, then-- the parting shot. Grammy joined the geese beyond the horizon. No miracle shot or endless love could keep her with me. Heaven was in the sky. I knew she was watching although there’d been no time for final waves. Her new adventure started without time for goodbyes. Outside, snow blanketed as I cried myself to sleep. Her final bow had been silent, but she’d been telling me, as had the geese. Overhead the geese are shaftless arrows shot from an instinctual bow piercing the morning sky with their raucous goodbyes. Time waves.
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39
The sun, a heavy spider, spins in the thirsty sky. The wind hides under cactus leaves, in doorway corners. Only the wry Small shadow accompanies Hamlet-Petrouchka's march - the slight Wry sniggering shadow in front of the morning, turning at noon, behind towards night. The plumed cavalcade has passed to tomorrow, is lost again; But the wisecrack-mask, the quick-flick-fanfare of the cane remain. Diminuendo of footsteps even is done: Only remain, Don Quixote, hat, cane, smile and sun. Goliaths fall to our sling, but craftier fates than these Lie ambushed - malice of open manholes, strings in the dark and falling trees. God kicks our backsides, scatters peel on the smoothest stair; And towering centaurs steal the tulip lips, the aureoled hair, While we, craned from the gallery, throw our cardboard flowers And our feet **** to tunes not played for ours.
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2.6k
Chaplin
I stepped into the house and removed my rain-soaked shoes on the grizzled entrance mat. No one in the kitchen. Though the aroma lingered, the coffee *** had turned itself off. I touched the glass -- cool. No one in the living room. Half a pair of sequined flats were in the dog's mouth, half a lady's pantsuit -- the black legs -- lied on the floor. A soap opera on the screen, the volume low, the gold-tipped ceiling fan oscillating, and Serge Gainsbourg's Histore de Melody Nelson played down the hall. I followed the breathy vocals and wandering baseline to my room, and there she sat. The blinds open, veiny rain running along the pane, on the beige carpeted floor, next to my unmade bed, criss-crossed Jessica. "Hey, sweetheart," I said. Jessica smiled. When she smiles, her cheeks go flush, she lowers her head slowly, embarrassed, but yet when she laughs, she laughs loudly, boldly. I've never understood that. Jessica was wearing a white, spaghetti-strap undershirt and blue cotton ******* Her brunette curls -- down, reaching past her shoulders. Her toenails -- painted purple and chipped. Newspapers lied strewn about her, with puddles of acrylic paint atop them. In her lap, a white canvas stapled to a wooden backing frame. She sang, *"Princesse des ténèbres, archange maudit, Amazone modern' style que le sculpteur, En anglais, surnomma Spirit of Ecstasy."* as she painted two lovers growing together like curious oak trees. I sat behind her on my bed. Pushed aside the tangled sheets. She craned her neck to kiss my cheek sweetly. "How was your day?" I asked. "Oh, who cares," she responded. Her eyebrows lifted, her fingertips traced my thigh, "Tell me something beautiful." "What?" She dipped her paintbrush in red, in white and applied them to the lovers' lips. "Tell me something beautiful." "I can't think of anything," I said. "Try."
0
Sep 28, 2012
Sep 28, 2012 at 12:03 AM UTC
tell me something beautiful
I stepped into the house and removed my rain-soaked shoes on the grizzled entrance mat. No one in the kitchen. Though the aroma lingered, the coffee *** had turned itself off. I touched the glass -- cool. No one in the living room. Half a pair of sequined flats were in the dog's mouth, half a lady's pantsuit -- the black legs -- lied on the floor. A soap opera on the screen, the volume low, the gold-tipped ceiling fan oscillating, and Serge Gainsbourg's Histore de Melody Nelson played down the hall. I followed the breathy vocals and wandering baseline to my room, and there she sat. The blinds open, veiny rain running along the pane, on the beige carpeted floor, next to my unmade bed, criss-crossed Jessica. "Hey, sweetheart," I said. Jessica smiled. When she smiles, her cheeks go flush, she lowers her head slowly, embarrassed, but yet when she laughs, she laughs loudly, boldly. I've never understood that. Jessica was wearing a white, spaghetti-strap undershirt and blue cotton ******* Her brunette curls -- down, reaching past her shoulders. Her toenails -- painted purple and chipped. Newspapers lied strewn about her, with puddles of acrylic paint atop them. In her lap, a white canvas stapled to a wooden backing frame. She sang, *"Princesse des ténèbres, archange maudit, Amazone modern' style que le sculpteur, En anglais, surnomma Spirit of Ecstasy."* as she painted two lovers growing together like curious oak trees. I sat behind her on my bed. Pushed aside the tangled sheets. She craned her neck to kiss my cheek sweetly. "How was your day?" I asked. "Oh, who cares," she responded. Her eyebrows lifted, her fingertips traced my thigh, "Tell me something beautiful." "What?" She dipped her paintbrush in red, in white and applied them to the lovers' lips. "Tell me something beautiful." "I can't think of anything," I said. "Try."
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48
God visited our house last Sunday a bright papaya orange butterfly welcomed Him, fluttering in loops like a kite as He stepped out of His car Embracing our dear friend Jon from New Jersey He entered our pagoda indeed, not as a guest but as an embodiment of God The early afternoon was garlanded in loving, intimate, animated conversation and a delectable lunch was served to our beloved  brother This was topped off with nectar sweet chocolate coconut prasadam Everything from matters of the spirit to soul stirring S.R.F. devotional songs chanting sublimely suffused our heavenly day Even the backyard birds turned out in large numbers their cocky red, brown and sky blue heads peeking curiously through the patio door craned to catch a glimpse of our divine companion Jon, His mellow, prayerful eyes blessing all His gaze fell upon leaned back comfortably in the recliner chair like a long lost friend returning home ~
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Feb 27, 2014
Feb 27, 2014 at 10:51 PM UTC
Namaste
You can't find relief... In reasons non existent; In predicaments ill-explained. There's no relief. In trying to peer over towering walls. With feet on tiptoes, and necks sorely craned. Relief isn't found... In wishing upon droplets that explode as they meet the ground. Everytime it thundered, and then rained. Relief is in the trove when the heart lets go. To acknowledge the error, to move on... And commit fully to the lesson gained.
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Sep 13, 2016
Sep 13, 2016 at 7:39 AM UTC
Relief
Outside in the cold darkness, neck craned toward Orion’s belt waiting for streaks across the sky. Leonids passing by, your name orbits in my mouth like planetary moons; shooting stars reflecting the past in your eyes.
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Feb 27, 2015
Feb 27, 2015 at 2:20 PM UTC
Leonids
When the dark night came with her rain. my body and mind had started to pain. As I weighed the cost of my task against its gain, I felt I was fighting in vain! Little by little the night progressed, the things in my to-do-list regressed, with my work, my heart felt impressed, which in turn, left my mind digressed my blood drained my heart pained my spirit waned my mind craned I started worrying my stomach started churning my eyes started crying my mind started burning I looked into my past to find some solution I had nothing left to accompany my determination I was stuck in this camp with a prefix of concentration And I was left with a ton of assimilation Oh, how I wish I had a Nanny McPhee especially now, when my heart sighed, Oh, Gee! with no more fresh n fighting blood left in me, At last, I took refuge in my old friend, Coffee!
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Oct 19, 2012
Oct 19, 2012 at 2:55 AM UTC
No blood left in me
Allan keeps forgetting that his knees are sacred There is not always solace granted from the bodies he prays to Neck craned howls for love Some deity’s fingers running through his hair Allen is not good looking And he forgets that no one ever hated a man Who wanted good things for other people Forgets that true beauty lies in the hands And is seen by what they do Your hands are beautiful She said, They can buy someone coffee When it’s cold They can make people warm They do more than his mouth can They speak languages Entire languages In the 7th grade Christy Turtch slapped him once For making eyes at another girl It made his face warm with pain His eyes wet Allan bought her flowers Glued googly eyes to the petals Gave her a note See. Only ever had eyes for you. What Allan doesn’t know yet Is that to get into heaven Peter checks knees for scars Checks hands for beauty Checks eyes for everything else Allan’s knees look like the moon From the ways that he prays Spotty gravel craters Dimpled with the fear of Maybe I won’t feel so lonely this time His hands can hold someone’s head His own head Can make someone fall asleep with them Can hold them so tight It keeps them from leaving Allan keeps forgetting He pushes against the ground to stand Brushes himself off Wipes his eyes And smiles He forgets
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Mar 10, 2012
Mar 10, 2012 at 1:30 PM UTC
He Forgets his Hands are Beautiful
I walked around the lake but it didn't feel like a lake anymore my path was paved the trees were shaved and the water was quiet. a goose stopped to ogle me and the other passers-by it craned up its neck and yawped like a cry for help
0
Jan 19, 2014
Jan 19, 2014 at 9:41 PM UTC
Untitled
It's funny how many people will gather around just to see one man on a building. They don’t even know me I barely even know me. I’ve seen the gate but I've never entered it; never could find the **** key. It's sick really, they’re not here because they care they don’t even know who I am. They just want to partake in ritual sacrifice. I’ll die like a Viking a heroic death in combat. I’ll be caught by Valkyries. My body will be of fire and I will steal their children’s innocence. They can shield their eyes, but I’ll scar the Earth, I’ll paint her red. A mural with my brain. And they can see everything that’s inside. I’ll break the **** door right off its hinges. You can’t make people care, but you can force them to see. It's cold up here, and the city is beautiful: constructs of man breaking the sky. And me, in her. At least the wind is on my side, the defiled king left to die in a labyrinth of stone. The sewers as my burial crypt, rats and snakes ******* my blood. But the remnants of a soul long forgot still feeds the mouths that rely on the few with food. Their stomachs ache and their hearts pound to the beat of one drum. A drum that beckons me to the edge. Who am I to starve the hungry? They don’t need a break, they need to push harder. I planted the trees. I planted the oak and I killed the yew. I’ve tasted its arils and made peace with the Ibis that guided me here. And as it watches me with craned neck, and bent beak I leave my throne and descend to water those whose shade I will never sit beneath.
0
Nov 29, 2011
Nov 29, 2011 at 7:37 PM UTC
Jumper
It's funny how many people will gather around just to see one man on a building. They don’t even know me I barely even know me. I’ve seen the gate but I've never entered it; never could find the **** key. It's sick really, they’re not here because they care they don’t even know who I am. They just want to partake in ritual sacrifice. I’ll die like a Viking a heroic death in combat. I’ll be caught by Valkyries. My body will be of fire and I will steal their children’s innocence. They can shield their eyes, but I’ll scar the Earth, I’ll paint her red. A mural with my brain. And they can see everything that’s inside. I’ll break the **** door right off its hinges. You can’t make people care, but you can force them to see. It's cold up here, and the city is beautiful: constructs of man breaking the sky. And me, in her. At least the wind is on my side, the defiled king left to die in a labyrinth of stone. The sewers as my burial crypt, rats and snakes ******* my blood. But the remnants of a soul long forgot still feeds the mouths that rely on the few with food. Their stomachs ache and their hearts pound to the beat of one drum. A drum that beckons me to the edge. Who am I to starve the hungry? They don’t need a break, they need to push harder. I planted the trees. I planted the oak and I killed the yew. I’ve tasted its arils and made peace with the Ibis that guided me here. And as it watches me with craned neck, and bent beak I leave my throne and descend to water those whose shade I will never sit beneath.
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67
Within the air, defined with moss and lichen, and casualties of wet rotting wood-depletion on the dregs of the summit, is a flicker of reality. Here, no naked cedars or fair-weather friends are bent and leaning along the sturdy, unadorned spines of rifle green spruces. The stone-crushed trail takes above the haze of tree lines, founding a path by and beyond the fickle trustworthiness of rocks, and the wind carries all of fog and cloud away, and whispers like one thousand ghosts, and deceives the shrouded mountain’s inclines, unfolding above unto the soft clarity of dew and silence. The only reality is a place where the neck can ease its craned crooked coils to view the now-seemingly distant and muted pale orb of a star. And nothing here cannot breathed with. And nothing that can’t be understood is here amongst the scarred-ancient black cliffs and fissions of olden earth-crust and time. And nothing scales above the lonely, opening a prayer in the sky and the space.
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Nov 21, 2011
Nov 21, 2011 at 1:02 PM UTC
Present Moment #21
I walked  in step with that old guy beside me. Watched as he craned his old neck around at every sweet smelling beauty that  passed us by. We stay that way for awhile. Walking ,watching the parade of hometown and home grown beauty's walking,driving and pedaling their way past. For a few moments I fell in Love. And they all lasted just long enough to watch the different versions of her blend into the streets and vanish. We approached  some boys sneaking left handed cigarettes while sitting on a wall half hidden from the world beneath a drooping eucalyptus. A tall boy rose his chin to me as his fist went into a ball. I smiled as the Old Man and I continued on. I casually tightened my grip on the pistol in my pocket. But I had already decided to let this stupid young boy grow into an idiot of a man. I caressed the warm pistol inside my warm coat pocket. I felt the idiots eyes burning into my back. The brave Bull Fighter came to mind and the idiot beast whose craving for the flag of red draws him to his doom. Cruel I've been along my way, the slaughter is what stays with you. All the rest was just time spent in passing. The old man who finds me when I'm unsure and afraid,troubled and out of drugs and searching for reasons to continue on shook his grey head as I looked his way. I did what I always do at the sight of him. I  laughed both to myself and at myself. Once that started the Old man got to laughing which soon turned into coughing. Then like we always do, we took the briefest of moments and said our good byes with our eyes. Two sets of the same eyes both witnessing it all together. One set reminding the other of how much longer he has to be here. I secretly thank him and he always reminds me that I'm not going any where any time soon.
0
Jan 19, 2014
Jan 19, 2014 at 3:50 PM UTC
In step With That Older Version
I walked  in step with that old guy beside me. Watched as he craned his old neck around at every sweet smelling beauty that  passed us by. We stay that way for awhile. Walking ,watching the parade of hometown and home grown beauty's walking,driving and pedaling their way past. For a few moments I fell in Love. And they all lasted just long enough to watch the different versions of her blend into the streets and vanish. We approached  some boys sneaking left handed cigarettes while sitting on a wall half hidden from the world beneath a drooping eucalyptus. A tall boy rose his chin to me as his fist went into a ball. I smiled as the Old Man and I continued on. I casually tightened my grip on the pistol in my pocket. But I had already decided to let this stupid young boy grow into an idiot of a man. I caressed the warm pistol inside my warm coat pocket. I felt the idiots eyes burning into my back. The brave Bull Fighter came to mind and the idiot beast whose craving for the flag of red draws him to his doom. Cruel I've been along my way, the slaughter is what stays with you. All the rest was just time spent in passing. The old man who finds me when I'm unsure and afraid,troubled and out of drugs and searching for reasons to continue on shook his grey head as I looked his way. I did what I always do at the sight of him. I  laughed both to myself and at myself. Once that started the Old man got to laughing which soon turned into coughing. Then like we always do, we took the briefest of moments and said our good byes with our eyes. Two sets of the same eyes both witnessing it all together. One set reminding the other of how much longer he has to be here. I secretly thank him and he always reminds me that I'm not going any where any time soon.
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89
It is all now done in vain, To pretend in a state of pain. To look through tears like rain, It still remains just a game. We struggle to remain sane, Even as the horrors are plain. Who shall we seek to blame? As we wallow in this shame. Sweet nectar now bitter strain, As the sacrifices are in vain. Our honor now deeply stained, Our wounds now so inflamed. To the heavens our necks craned, We pray the hardships to be waned. © Perveiz Ali
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Mar 17, 2016
Mar 17, 2016 at 8:54 AM UTC
Life In Disdain
what sadness is leached from your heart to your brow? unable to show what you truly emote scathed in darkness your treachery lies there hidden still by the magic you've used to fog my eyes but i am here standing in the street, neck craned up at the sky searching for hope, light but the moon does not appear cloaked by your entity, your shadow what light prevails there, beneath the darkest blanket? what bought breaks past your distant window? is it the stillness inside of you rupturing? someday it shall emerge grotesquely from your centre and devour all that remains and there your body will lie, twitching a blood-filled cavity useless attempting to repair the fatal blow and i will miss you for now all that remains is hollow the lifeless look in your stare haunts me so i will not return here for in my mind, you died that day and all that i had ever hoped for went away with you too
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Feb 22, 2013
Feb 22, 2013 at 11:46 PM UTC
apathetic
past tense verbs with their pesky sense of definity divinity those who drink the water say is the now and already there but what was makes me weep and I can't breathe now not with my neck craned around-intimately eyeing the ghosts of christmases passed and oh god, don't make me hear "eventually" I can't stomach "let it happen" I've known you in nine lives I've remembered you in all nine and in the eleventh hour you've made a pearly bust of your apathy but your lips are half parted I drip with desire but I only ever see you when I follow the hand around the clock
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Jun 5, 2017
Jun 5, 2017 at 9:16 PM UTC
the passing of time
I met you by the terrace walls when we were young I was more graceful and prettier, but you were more interesting And from then, you'd snagged my heart I found myself entangled in you and we became inseparable— The tightest pair of friends that wall had ever seen. From there, I moved on to my father's pergola—a beautiful sight Surrounded by cousins of daisies and roses with thorns You didn't feel special when we were not alone And craned yourself away from me as far as possible to listen To the wind and our cousins below. Next you found me stretched against the columns Of my mother's porch—as if we were playing a magnificent Game of hide and seek. You climbed up To meet me more than halfway and promised never to leave My side again, be it for the wind or my cousins or solitude. And at the end, I chose to rest on the walls and columns Of my balcony and you followed me as you said you would. We had grown so much although you were much bigger And I could see how much we'd changed. Still, we were still entangled. We were still the same. And like vines, we intertwined. And slowly began to droop with age.
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Aug 31, 2010
Aug 31, 2010 at 8:45 PM UTC
Like Vines
if you can promise me privacy, then i can lend you all of me. i could be the miscalculated rain, intended for the sea- but destined to be splattered on a window, exploded like the galaxy. did i paint the pretty picture in a way that you can only see? pull me in, pull me close- and strip me of my sensory. if this is it, let's make the most- and shred up old philosophies. while i still have cancer-less ******* let's look past the human fallacy. while my heart throbs with unrest, come divide me with your symmetry. while i still produce a shadow, while blood still floods the wound, while we still have tomorrow, paint the words to me in truth am i bound to live my life with a craned neck? stiff from that which i no longer possess? scared of the sunrise, starving for the sunset? i'll never know the presence of now unless you teach me to forget.
0
Apr 13, 2013
Apr 13, 2013 at 10:21 PM UTC
the sentiment struggle.
he is like an unfinished painting a song with secretive lyrics he spills a line then retracts a paragraph with his eyes; that wide ocean of unending metaphors he watches and keeps to himself a bag full of captured moments and i am a bird, perched on an ordinary tree i craned my neck, yet he couldn't see my subtle melody, another mystery, trapped underneath the leaves i beg for mercy from a worm that was supposed to be my meal there are no trees across the ocean. even in the negatives i will never be cleared or towed away in his collection of polaroids yet in between my words, there he is coloring the spaces my ink left filling and filling and spilling on my bed sheet, in my closet among the neurons in my head there will never be trees across the ocean.
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Oct 19, 2016
Oct 19, 2016 at 12:47 PM UTC
Distant Ocean
A famous alumnus is visiting the university. I got an invitation several days ago to a small, socially distanced, masked, focus group. It was to be early on a Saturday morning - so, why not? I was excited to see her - I’m a fan. We were a diverse group of about 20 (covid tested before admittance) students and I was in the back row. Seating was offset so everyone could see everything perfectly. I craned and swiveled, when her entourage came into the room. Then, there she was - I’m sure I was grinning ear to ear (behind my mask), we clapped, excitedly. She wore a navy business suit. A jacket over a black blouse with slacks and black shoes.   She gave a talk, about the challenges America faces. On YouTube, her speech-giving voice always seemed artificial, cold, harsh and brittle. Here, she was low-key, motherly, whip smart, personable and humorous - everything I had hoped for. Then there was a question and answer session (NOT easy questions - did I mention whip smart?) followed by a no touching reception line. And *** she’s a foot away. She seemed a lacquered and corrected sort of person - professional - I guess you’d say. Everyone was gently elbow bumping with her, so I did too. You’d say your name and class. “Anais Vionet, freshman,” I said. I wanted to say “I’m a BIG fan” but I thought I might come off as either fawning or even worse someone bent on wasting her time. We both smiled, me behind my mask and I bobbed a goodbye nod, but as I went to step away she said, “How’s your Grandmother?” I was shocked but I managed to say, “She’s fine, thank you.” To which she replied, “Please tell her I said hello.” I just nodded, “yes” as a sort of “I will,” and stepped away. I glanced around, there was no handler by her side and she wasn’t wearing an earpiece - how she knew me I have no idea - but now I think she’s considering a run in 2024. My grandmère would be a whale of a donor. What a bizarre encounter.
0
Feb 5, 2022
Feb 5, 2022 at 12:25 PM UTC
not name dropping
A famous alumnus is visiting the university. I got an invitation several days ago to a small, socially distanced, masked, focus group. It was to be early on a Saturday morning - so, why not? I was excited to see her - I’m a fan. We were a diverse group of about 20 (covid tested before admittance) students and I was in the back row. Seating was offset so everyone could see everything perfectly. I craned and swiveled, when her entourage came into the room. Then, there she was - I’m sure I was grinning ear to ear (behind my mask), we clapped, excitedly. She wore a navy business suit. A jacket over a black blouse with slacks and black shoes.   She gave a talk, about the challenges America faces. On YouTube, her speech-giving voice always seemed artificial, cold, harsh and brittle. Here, she was low-key, motherly, whip smart, personable and humorous - everything I had hoped for. Then there was a question and answer session (NOT easy questions - did I mention whip smart?) followed by a no touching reception line. And *** she’s a foot away. She seemed a lacquered and corrected sort of person - professional - I guess you’d say. Everyone was gently elbow bumping with her, so I did too. You’d say your name and class. “Anais Vionet, freshman,” I said. I wanted to say “I’m a BIG fan” but I thought I might come off as either fawning or even worse someone bent on wasting her time. We both smiled, me behind my mask and I bobbed a goodbye nod, but as I went to step away she said, “How’s your Grandmother?” I was shocked but I managed to say, “She’s fine, thank you.” To which she replied, “Please tell her I said hello.” I just nodded, “yes” as a sort of “I will,” and stepped away. I glanced around, there was no handler by her side and she wasn’t wearing an earpiece - how she knew me I have no idea - but now I think she’s considering a run in 2024. My grandmère would be a whale of a donor. What a bizarre encounter.
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8
There are ghosts that stir inside of her, shimmering and wraithlike. The desperate ways in which she's mooned have craned and fused and become a part of her. They've since dissolved and left a hollow in their place. And though she knows they aren't there, she feels them crushing, crushing, crushing all the same. Without their heavy presence, she is left with an idle ache. Unable to separate herself from the ghosts, she will indulge in the sickly-sweetness of yesterday. She will enclave herself in the ghostly, glimmering fog, breathing sticky recollection that will cling to her lungs like ash, and smother her.
0
Oct 12, 2011
Oct 12, 2011 at 1:04 PM UTC
Ghosts
The brook keeps babbling away, Telling the stones to hold their tongues, The water to slow down for a bit, For these days are long and the nights feel ever so empty, Daisies have craned their necks over the sides Hoping to befriend whatever breathes below, And the brook babbles away, Telling all the secrets that sailed its spine, As they pass by the banks And wave goodbye to those still standing
0
May 4, 2015
May 4, 2015 at 11:56 PM UTC
Stones
A man walks through wood and brush, range, and valley. Delirious and disoriented He stopped upon a gentle stream and as the man bent down to drink, The stream began to speak. It told him things, with a voice that moved so soft and swift. It told him not to walk any further than his legs could carry him. The will of the soul you see, has a funny way of tricking what you think. Making you believe that the mind can transcend the capacities of bone and muscle. Oh yes, the brain is strong, but if your body fell fatigued then surely not the mind could carry you along. So spoke the stream. A voice now deeper rough like gravel under foot, said, look, the ground where leaves were shook. Beware of what they hide, Beware the hidden roots. They snag and grab and wish to trap. Beware the hidden roots. Trees seem and speak like friend, but in the dark of night they wear different faces. They laugh, they taunt, they whisper things above your ears. I hear them say, Let us keep him here. The stream spoke this time, softer like the first. There was caution in the voice, wary, of the man’s impending thirst. It said to him, the thing he cannot forget. It reminded him of breath. Reminded him that each one is borrowed, traded in like gambling chips upon one’s cosmic completion. The laws of dirt and sky do not appreciate a struggle from their kin; unable to accept his final breath. You must be like the wave, momentarily breaking free and then when beckoned, returning to its salty sea. It was then that the voice grew dim, overridden by the roar of rapids. The man’s neck was craned towards a placid eddy; the “friend” to whom he had spoke. Yet when he raised his head, his only friend was birch and oak. Looking down again, he saw nothing but a muddied puddle. A chill ran from spine to toe, The man knew what was next to come. Looking through the weave of trees, he saw the setting sun. His throat, dry and rough, tightened and began to close. It was then that the man looked up, and his fear went with his gaze, snuffed out like candles’ flame. The trees began to speak, but they were not talking amongst themselves. The trees were addressing him, whispering… Remember, the Teachings of the Stream
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Jan 27, 2014
Jan 27, 2014 at 11:59 AM UTC
Teachings of the Stream
A man walks through wood and brush, range, and valley. Delirious and disoriented He stopped upon a gentle stream and as the man bent down to drink, The stream began to speak. It told him things, with a voice that moved so soft and swift. It told him not to walk any further than his legs could carry him. The will of the soul you see, has a funny way of tricking what you think. Making you believe that the mind can transcend the capacities of bone and muscle. Oh yes, the brain is strong, but if your body fell fatigued then surely not the mind could carry you along. So spoke the stream. A voice now deeper rough like gravel under foot, said, look, the ground where leaves were shook. Beware of what they hide, Beware the hidden roots. They snag and grab and wish to trap. Beware the hidden roots. Trees seem and speak like friend, but in the dark of night they wear different faces. They laugh, they taunt, they whisper things above your ears. I hear them say, Let us keep him here. The stream spoke this time, softer like the first. There was caution in the voice, wary, of the man’s impending thirst. It said to him, the thing he cannot forget. It reminded him of breath. Reminded him that each one is borrowed, traded in like gambling chips upon one’s cosmic completion. The laws of dirt and sky do not appreciate a struggle from their kin; unable to accept his final breath. You must be like the wave, momentarily breaking free and then when beckoned, returning to its salty sea. It was then that the voice grew dim, overridden by the roar of rapids. The man’s neck was craned towards a placid eddy; the “friend” to whom he had spoke. Yet when he raised his head, his only friend was birch and oak. Looking down again, he saw nothing but a muddied puddle. A chill ran from spine to toe, The man knew what was next to come. Looking through the weave of trees, he saw the setting sun. His throat, dry and rough, tightened and began to close. It was then that the man looked up, and his fear went with his gaze, snuffed out like candles’ flame. The trees began to speak, but they were not talking amongst themselves. The trees were addressing him, whispering… Remember, the Teachings of the Stream
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i chew on the shards of my broken heart wearing out my enamels bleeding out my gums devouring the pain slitting down my throat you tower over keenly i craned my neck beaming doubtful eyes swept over discoloured lips crimson stained teeth but a smile is flattering so please don't fret you can trust me i am fine i am okay the pain no longer fazes me
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Feb 13, 2021
Feb 13, 2021 at 6:57 AM UTC
internal bleeding
"So, where do I fit in in your life?" You want to know where you fit in? You're every meal I didn't eat in the hope that those missing calories would make you miss me. You're every coffee I buy from your favourite coffee shop and every point on my loyalty card that I'll never spend. You're every walk back home that I craned my neck in the hopes of catching a glimpse of you only to be disappointed. You're every time someone lit up a cigarette near by and I breathed it in because even though I hate the smell it's still your smell. You're every awkward silence on the phone or in the street in which I tried my hardest to be funny or cool but never was. You're every time I drunkenly cried in a bathroom and I didn't even know why. You're every time I rolled my eyes at your name because I didn't know how else to react without letting them all know what they already knew. You're every party we were both invited to that I would spend wondering whether or not you'd come or if you did, whether you'd chose to talk to me or not. You're every time I knew I shouldn't think about you, or write about you, or kiss you, or even talk to you, but I did it anyway. So there, that's where you fit in. In all the places and in all the ways that continue to fit into my days even though you yourself don't fit in them anymore. "Uh, I don't know. What kind of a question is that anyway?"
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Jul 4, 2013
Jul 4, 2013 at 8:32 PM UTC
Where You Fit In.