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"cupful" poems
Your eyes are mesmerizing, they are so beautiful So are your dreamy brown eyes and lashes so full Follow me lovely to somewhere a bit less dull Let's  go do something sweeter and meaningful To a haven less bright of that I'm so hopeful You're so strong with big arms yet naughty and playful We merge closely and here with you is so wonderful Why am I tingling and trembling yet feel so cheerful What about darkness we've got to be so careful Worry leaves at your sight but I am mindful Your warm embrace tantalise your touch so purposeful Give me that gilded vessel and I'll fill it to the brimful Your manly raging strength remains a tasty mouthful Oh your ****** and swaying hips makes eyes tearful Entwined blissfully thus the clouds' within our pull I know we'll soon part and in days between I'll feel mournful With such sweet memories I won't let it feel too dreadful busy fingers will remember you're more than a handful My gilded vessel will arch for your more than a cupful And if wanting you is wrong I don't mind being sinful [email protected]. All rights reserved
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Aug 15, 2018
Aug 15, 2018 at 9:44 PM UTC
The Palace Within...........
There can be certain potions needled in the clock for the body's fall from grace, to untorture and to plead for. These I have known and would sell all my furniture and books and assorted goods to avoid, and more, more. But the other pain I would sell my life to avoid the pain that begins in the crib with its bars or perhaps with your first breath when the planets drill your future into you for better of worse as you marry life and the love that gets doled out or doesn't. I find now, swallowing one teaspoon of pain, that it drops downward to the past where it mixes with last year's cupful and downward into a decade's quart and downward into a lifetime's ocean. I alternate treading water and deadman's float. The teaspoon ought to be hearable if it didn't mix into the reruns and thus enlarge into what it is not, a sea pest's sting turning promptly into the shark's neat biting off of a leg because the soul wears a magnifying glass. Kicking the heart with pain's big boots running up and down the intestines like a motorcycle racer. Yet one does get out of bed and start over, plunge into the day and put on a hopeful look and does not allow fear to build a wall between you and an old friend or a new friend and reach out your hand, shutting down the thought that an axe may cut it off unexpectedly. One learns not to blab about all this except to yourself or the typewriter keys who tell no one until they get brave and crawl off onto the printed page. I'm getting bored with it, I tell the typewriter, this constantly walking around in wet shoes and then, surprise! Somehow DECEASED keeps getting stamped in red over the word HOPE. And I who keep falling thankfully into each new pillow of belief, finding my Mercy Street, kissing it and tenderly gift-wrapping my love, am beginning to wonder just what the planets had in mind on November 9th, 1928. The pillows are ripped away, the hand guillotined, dog **** thrown into the middle of a laugh, a hornets' nest building into the hi-fi speaker and leaving me in silence, where, without music, I become a cracked orphan. Well, one gets out of bed and the planets don't always hiss or muck up the day, each day. As for the pain and its multiplying teaspoon, perhaps it is a medicine that will cure the soul of its greed for love next Thursday.
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2k
The Big Boots Of Pain
There can be certain potions needled in the clock for the body's fall from grace, to untorture and to plead for. These I have known and would sell all my furniture and books and assorted goods to avoid, and more, more. But the other pain I would sell my life to avoid the pain that begins in the crib with its bars or perhaps with your first breath when the planets drill your future into you for better of worse as you marry life and the love that gets doled out or doesn't. I find now, swallowing one teaspoon of pain, that it drops downward to the past where it mixes with last year's cupful and downward into a decade's quart and downward into a lifetime's ocean. I alternate treading water and deadman's float. The teaspoon ought to be hearable if it didn't mix into the reruns and thus enlarge into what it is not, a sea pest's sting turning promptly into the shark's neat biting off of a leg because the soul wears a magnifying glass. Kicking the heart with pain's big boots running up and down the intestines like a motorcycle racer. Yet one does get out of bed and start over, plunge into the day and put on a hopeful look and does not allow fear to build a wall between you and an old friend or a new friend and reach out your hand, shutting down the thought that an axe may cut it off unexpectedly. One learns not to blab about all this except to yourself or the typewriter keys who tell no one until they get brave and crawl off onto the printed page. I'm getting bored with it, I tell the typewriter, this constantly walking around in wet shoes and then, surprise! Somehow DECEASED keeps getting stamped in red over the word HOPE. And I who keep falling thankfully into each new pillow of belief, finding my Mercy Street, kissing it and tenderly gift-wrapping my love, am beginning to wonder just what the planets had in mind on November 9th, 1928. The pillows are ripped away, the hand guillotined, dog **** thrown into the middle of a laugh, a hornets' nest building into the hi-fi speaker and leaving me in silence, where, without music, I become a cracked orphan. Well, one gets out of bed and the planets don't always hiss or muck up the day, each day. As for the pain and its multiplying teaspoon, perhaps it is a medicine that will cure the soul of its greed for love next Thursday.
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77
THE MILK drops on your chin, Helga, Must not interfere with the cranberry red of your cheeks Nor the sky winter blue of your eyes. Let your mammy keep hands off the chin. This is a high holy spatter of white on the reds and blues. Before the bottle was taken away, Before you so proudly began today Drinking your milk from the rim of a cup They did not splash this high holy white on your chin. There are dreams in your eyes, Helga. Tall reaches of wind sweep the clear blue. The winter is young yet, so young. Only a little cupful of winter has touched your lips. Drink on ... milk with your lips ... dreams with your eyes.
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2k
Winter Milk
What balm is there in being right? Especially rightness, righteousness grounded in bitterness-- are you joining me in my misery? I do not want my happiness to come at the expense of yours-- as if there were some limited supply of it; some small cupful-- snatching at the drops that fall. If I want compassion+mercy extended to me then I **** well better extend it to others. And so I go forward, waving olive branches. Will you grasp back?
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Nov 8, 2016
Nov 8, 2016 at 5:24 PM UTC
A Poem for These Times
soft waves ripple the water,                they come    and    they go,            sprinkling seeds of fervent hope    gentle waves tickle the sand,             they come   and   they go,        leaving dreams                    of rapture        behind              Boastful waves CRASH into rocks,     they come and they go,            shattering dreams                            to  s  m  i  t  h  e  r  e  e  n  s frantic waves expunge the sea foam,          they come and they go,     d       r         ow             n               ing                                         hope                      as                 it does     silent waves creep back to the sea, they come and they go,         a cupful of                 tears in tow
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Jul 28, 2012
Jul 28, 2012 at 12:17 PM UTC
Waves on the Beach of Life
Would it seem presumptuous, perhaps impertinent, of me to invite you for a cup of tea on a sunny Sunday morning at a small shop on a well- trafficked street? And, it you were to agree would you question me, over that cup of tea, or before, as to why I wish your company on a sunny Sunday morning? I might answer, before that cup of tea, that your interests interest me, and given what I see, you seem quite shy (and I have heard this is true) and I think you might be more inclined to reply over a cup of pekoe brew on a safe and sunny well-trafficked street on a Sunday morning. And, what would the object be, you might ask, of meeting over a cup of tea and what would a pertinent question be? The why and why not of what you know and what you do, the who and why and what of you cannot all be explained over a cup of tea on a sunny Sunday morning, but a small answer, say a cupful, with one who takes pleasure in interesting conversation with one who seems interesting is all the question and answer needed on a sunny Sunday morning and a cup of tea.
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Jun 27, 2017
Jun 27, 2017 at 1:36 PM UTC
A Cup Of Tea
I am hungry and I am not silent I am thirsty with a cask full of headaches -  but I don't partake I am mindful of the acetaminophen with codeine because they take the pain away... So I am no longer hungry and the thirst continues with the glass 1/2 full salt pepper and sugar mixed with baking soda add cupful of flour and raw egg. I can certainly add mayonnaise MIX &EAT;   MIX &EAT;   MIX &EAT;   and she tells me that she loves me and she expels her lonely thoughts and she runs in circles with clarity as the clock continues to tick as my hunger persists for hours and days upon days that last I can no longer go through this and all is becoming useless as the type written lines are becoming shorter my height has become my tolerance...
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Jul 22, 2015
Jul 22, 2015 at 12:12 PM UTC
MIX &EAT MIX &EAT MIX &EAT
As soon as the final cupful of water was poured, we’d hoist him from the plastic tub and he’d jiggle as if electrocuted, water flinging everywhere, a wild tremor from head to tail. Then we’d pat him dry with a pink towel, black hair glossier than ever and he’d run straight to the fence, rub up against it as if rubbing the freshness out from his skin, back and forth with a goofy look on his face.
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Oct 15, 2016
Oct 15, 2016 at 2:47 PM UTC
Bath Time
another postcard came, sent from the hollowman. bright, happy pictures on the front. and terse, inked messages on the back. "am ok" or "doin fine" "still here" & "i am living my life" anger and grief, etched in each & every penstroke. he, rings ben, & they talk, like lovers , in hushed & secretive tones, for long periods of time. but he won't speak to me. ben says, he says, it is still ..... too hard, to fresh & raw ....and i remind him, to much of her... (she has a name, i say angrily) but, really, i don't know, what to do with that..... any more than i know what to do with..... the boxes, stacked, in our garage. your bequest to me, the residue of your life. each time i open one to unpack..... i add, a cupful of salty tears, before resealing it.... god! it might be years, before i get them done. and i know, this is not so much, about his all encompassing grief, or the tidal heft of mine. as much, as it is about, my need to make, things, better and smooth and fine. you, in your much missed wisdom, once said, "we are the sisters sisyphus'. me, i am wanting to be, glue, always, holding things together, often, way past, their prime. and you, you, want to take, a jagged pebble and work and polish it, till smooth as a marble... but really, both these things, are tasks never done.... and in the end, the world has it's way..... things, lives, come apart and shatter and we are left, to begin again, again.... so, sue for you and in your memory... to laz,the hollowman i give his mispent anger and recieve his postcards and hope that time will heal. as to, the gift of your boxes. i seed my salted love... they will be there, when i am ready and the tide is right. and i let the world have it's way... in hope you are smiling down from above.... and i think you are... this weeks message, "got a dog"
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Jul 16, 2014
Jul 16, 2014 at 8:14 PM UTC
postcards from the hollowman
another postcard came, sent from the hollowman. bright, happy pictures on the front. and terse, inked messages on the back. "am ok" or "doin fine" "still here" & "i am living my life" anger and grief, etched in each & every penstroke. he, rings ben, & they talk, like lovers , in hushed & secretive tones, for long periods of time. but he won't speak to me. ben says, he says, it is still ..... too hard, to fresh & raw ....and i remind him, to much of her... (she has a name, i say angrily) but, really, i don't know, what to do with that..... any more than i know what to do with..... the boxes, stacked, in our garage. your bequest to me, the residue of your life. each time i open one to unpack..... i add, a cupful of salty tears, before resealing it.... god! it might be years, before i get them done. and i know, this is not so much, about his all encompassing grief, or the tidal heft of mine. as much, as it is about, my need to make, things, better and smooth and fine. you, in your much missed wisdom, once said, "we are the sisters sisyphus'. me, i am wanting to be, glue, always, holding things together, often, way past, their prime. and you, you, want to take, a jagged pebble and work and polish it, till smooth as a marble... but really, both these things, are tasks never done.... and in the end, the world has it's way..... things, lives, come apart and shatter and we are left, to begin again, again.... so, sue for you and in your memory... to laz,the hollowman i give his mispent anger and recieve his postcards and hope that time will heal. as to, the gift of your boxes. i seed my salted love... they will be there, when i am ready and the tide is right. and i let the world have it's way... in hope you are smiling down from above.... and i think you are... this weeks message, "got a dog"
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90
A slight pinch this, a tiny smidge of that A recipe of four, now that’s where it’s at A cupful of Italian, plus German and English Pinch in some Indian, to have a smooth dish A spoonful of trust, add loving and caring Stir all together, then add forgiving and sharing Mix in a Father who gives his endless love Adds in that flavor, like a gift from above Red hair of fire, dab freckles all around Add in some sugar, the sweetest Mom in the town What’s this… a Sister, not just any, the best She adds in vanilla, mixed in with the rest At last add myself, which completes the four I bring excitement and add so much more Flavor for life, a splash of wild spice I give the dish that essence of life So if you asked, what makes a great family dish It’s lots of preparation, a hope and a wish That you’d be so lucky, to be proud and be glad For having a wonderful Sister, a Mother and a Dad
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Oct 30, 2016
Oct 30, 2016 at 5:31 PM UTC
A RECIPE OF FOUR
coffee stained her teeth and smoldered her tongue as she choked on a cupful in hope that it would somehow wake every single cell of her body from the tormenting dreams that never failed to welcome her in her every slumber gust of wind caressed her skin and lulled her with muffled melody as she embraced the breeze that greeted her with relish as if it understood her undying misery that she concealed imperfectly from everyone she knew desiring that eventually she’d get through
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May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 3:52 AM UTC
she never was the brave one
A handful of Memories A cupful of sorrow A flagon of happiness Faith in tomorrow A measure of taking A measure of giving A curious jumble This business of living
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Apr 23, 2019
Apr 23, 2019 at 11:08 PM UTC
#1 A handful of Memories by MoM ❤️
In the hollow of my heart I yearned for loves completion Like the caterpillar yearns for wings Cocoon enveloped in solitary darkness Not yet aware of the transformation within You gave me wings to fly Made of glass and fragile like my soul When I came to alight on the first bloom They shattered and dropped like cellophane tears And once more I was incomplete I didn't  think I could try again Heart dry as dust and no more tears to cry But I heard you calling my name And knew deep inside That you had never left me Filled now, like a cupful of crystal water Spilling over and spreading in rivulets Running in streams but never running out My lips are soft and I thirst no more Satisfied from the inside out with you
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Sep 18, 2015
Sep 18, 2015 at 10:08 PM UTC
Filled
have you ever drank a river? stretched your lips over it's banks and ****** everything — the fishes, the canoes, and the boots that sunk 5 years ago. I am so thirsty that if I could stretch my mouth around this planet and crunch the glaciers, swallow the oceans, and breathe in the clouds — It would not still be enough. But see what nature did. It gave me a small mouth and a mind that believes that a cupful is enough.
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Apr 13, 2025
Apr 13, 2025 at 10:11 AM UTC
Unquenched