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"curveball" poems
You're so beautiful darling, your words can move mountains even when you think they can't touch an anthill. You are a rebel with a cause and the cause is me. You are Janis Joplin in the evening, without the ****** "Darling, I love you" "I love you, darling" and there was no need to say "too" Three words were enough to throw a curveball in a hockey rink, to ride horses in a car race, to love someone at night and even more in the morning. You are an earthquake, I know you'll break my heart but I welcome it. It would be such an honor to be broken by you. You are my guilty pleasure and all of my proud ones. I want to tattoo you on my skin in places only I can see so that every time I take off my sweater and my tshirt and everything masking my scars and tree rings of age, I will always be surprised to find you. I want to hold you in the crevice of my elbow like a baby and never ever let you go. Darling, you're a willow tree that I write poems under. In the most poetic way, I found you in hallways, always. In my high school where I hid in the bathrooms, Jane loves John and everything else scribbled in hearts in bad ninth grade writing. I found you there. I find you here, in my heart. You are filled with blood, you are 72% water that I would gladly drown in. I think if I kissed you you'd poison me with your lips. You are the forked tongue of desire. I want to talk to you about dreams, I want to be your sweetest nightmare. I don't want you to question reality but if you do, think you're lucid dreaming. Because I want you to want me around; even when you're sleeping. You are 2am with the lights on and the music loud. You are a five hour time difference dancing inside of me like a storm. If my knees wouldn't give out, I would run to you. And when they did, I would crawl to you. My hands scraped from debris from car crashes, you are electric. You are heat lightning. You give me flashes of hope on a humid day. You are a winter breeze through a cracked window in all of the glorious ways that could be glorious. I will whisper to you that I don't know why I'm whispering, there is nobody home, "I love you" sounds better in hushed tones. You're so beautiful, Darling. The prettiest pictures you'll ever take will be self-portraits. Don't argue with me, I know you're stubborn. It's written in the stars. You can move me like a mountain or an anthill because your strength is a blood diamond permanently placed on my left hand. I did, I do, I will. You are forever.
0
Aug 18, 2013
Aug 18, 2013 at 2:15 AM UTC
You Are Forever
You're so beautiful darling, your words can move mountains even when you think they can't touch an anthill. You are a rebel with a cause and the cause is me. You are Janis Joplin in the evening, without the ****** "Darling, I love you" "I love you, darling" and there was no need to say "too" Three words were enough to throw a curveball in a hockey rink, to ride horses in a car race, to love someone at night and even more in the morning. You are an earthquake, I know you'll break my heart but I welcome it. It would be such an honor to be broken by you. You are my guilty pleasure and all of my proud ones. I want to tattoo you on my skin in places only I can see so that every time I take off my sweater and my tshirt and everything masking my scars and tree rings of age, I will always be surprised to find you. I want to hold you in the crevice of my elbow like a baby and never ever let you go. Darling, you're a willow tree that I write poems under. In the most poetic way, I found you in hallways, always. In my high school where I hid in the bathrooms, Jane loves John and everything else scribbled in hearts in bad ninth grade writing. I found you there. I find you here, in my heart. You are filled with blood, you are 72% water that I would gladly drown in. I think if I kissed you you'd poison me with your lips. You are the forked tongue of desire. I want to talk to you about dreams, I want to be your sweetest nightmare. I don't want you to question reality but if you do, think you're lucid dreaming. Because I want you to want me around; even when you're sleeping. You are 2am with the lights on and the music loud. You are a five hour time difference dancing inside of me like a storm. If my knees wouldn't give out, I would run to you. And when they did, I would crawl to you. My hands scraped from debris from car crashes, you are electric. You are heat lightning. You give me flashes of hope on a humid day. You are a winter breeze through a cracked window in all of the glorious ways that could be glorious. I will whisper to you that I don't know why I'm whispering, there is nobody home, "I love you" sounds better in hushed tones. You're so beautiful, Darling. The prettiest pictures you'll ever take will be self-portraits. Don't argue with me, I know you're stubborn. It's written in the stars. You can move me like a mountain or an anthill because your strength is a blood diamond permanently placed on my left hand. I did, I do, I will. You are forever.
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45
~~~ for Matt ~~~ *"My suspect credibility upon the rockets of birds, the soft parts of people, the oceans’ inevitable, cyclical weeping,*  Who has time for poetry has more time than they deserve" Breaking Spring by Matt Hart ~~~ your words warp me, the woven texture of your composition, Matt, dumbfounding the sweeping, weeping, instant recognition in the soft parts' of Nat, where credibility long past being suspected, simply arrested for statutory dark room torrented questioning deserve poetry deserve blessing deserve curse You Jacob, wrestle with this angel witch curveball! 'tis better to give or receive this poetry admonishment? for who knows where the time goes, when the fix is in, the addiction itch, commands and commends, *feed the poetry ***** write or die* one fix, one poem, carousel leads to another, yet, with only time to live, pay the bills for renting the space you Earth occupy, no time for illegal compulsive word blending the interrogator demands deserve poetry deserve blessing deserve curse? *who is your supplier? who is your time stealer?* by the ocean, weeping, you plead innocence, just ill drivel, needy for expulsion, deserving of repulsion, swear repeatedly, never again, imbibe, scribe *but the ***** coos in my ear, reaching beneath the vulnerable soft tissued skin and cells: write or die I thieve your time, 'tis nothing you deserve, I am Poetry, just your mistress, better served* deserve poetry deserve blessing deserve curse ~~~ June 25, 2016 written by the ocean, weeping
0
Jul 3, 2016
Jul 3, 2016 at 1:25 PM UTC
(deserve poetry deserve blessing deserve curse)...My Suspect Credibility
~~~ for Matt ~~~ *"My suspect credibility upon the rockets of birds, the soft parts of people, the oceans’ inevitable, cyclical weeping,*  Who has time for poetry has more time than they deserve" Breaking Spring by Matt Hart ~~~ your words warp me, the woven texture of your composition, Matt, dumbfounding the sweeping, weeping, instant recognition in the soft parts' of Nat, where credibility long past being suspected, simply arrested for statutory dark room torrented questioning deserve poetry deserve blessing deserve curse You Jacob, wrestle with this angel witch curveball! 'tis better to give or receive this poetry admonishment? for who knows where the time goes, when the fix is in, the addiction itch, commands and commends, *feed the poetry ***** write or die* one fix, one poem, carousel leads to another, yet, with only time to live, pay the bills for renting the space you Earth occupy, no time for illegal compulsive word blending the interrogator demands deserve poetry deserve blessing deserve curse? *who is your supplier? who is your time stealer?* by the ocean, weeping, you plead innocence, just ill drivel, needy for expulsion, deserving of repulsion, swear repeatedly, never again, imbibe, scribe *but the ***** coos in my ear, reaching beneath the vulnerable soft tissued skin and cells: write or die I thieve your time, 'tis nothing you deserve, I am Poetry, just your mistress, better served* deserve poetry deserve blessing deserve curse ~~~ June 25, 2016 written by the ocean, weeping
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62
Were there reason to suspect treachery I do not know mind has become lost in an awakening thus senses dulled were it normal such a flip flop of the senses I would think me safe as it were I find me tossed into the dark wondering what curveball may my way next come I am lost in the Amazonian jungle waiting for venom to strike out naught in this secluded wood could be serene or is this my paranoia talking but I know this game Jumanji let us dance it is your turn to roll the dice I am watching afraid, confused what intention could be that of a python stalking a mouse
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Dec 25, 2012
Dec 25, 2012 at 11:40 PM UTC
Jaded
We all have goals, We all strive to obtain them We try our best to stick to the path, And avoid obstacles at all costs. But we realize that life isn't always a straight line. Sometimes it hands us a curveball, And our direction veers off course. Once again, we're back at where we started. And that's okay. It may not be what we wanted, And it may not be what we asked for But we make the best of what we've got. And try, try again In these uncertain times, Self-reflection isn't unheard of; It's almost like a great pause. With the world around us slowing to a crawl, The stress and anxiety are getting to us all. We find that brief moment of clarity, A revelation that, maybe, we're not lost after all.
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Jun 28, 2020
Jun 28, 2020 at 3:36 AM UTC
The Great Pause
when i was little, i dreamt of being a princess because taking charge is what i do best and why not do it in a long pink dress? i may not be royalty but i am royally ******* by being an overemotional teenager who ... listens a bit too much to what society says and not enough to what she has to say about herself i feel like that needle in a haystack when it comes to the future. i’m still asking if i can use the bathroom when i’m expected to have my whole life planned out by the time the leaves start to change and i have to surgically remove my arm to sell on the streets so four years from now i’m not living on one ... with nothing but a fancy degree held above my head when it rains the cold realization that i am $100,000 in debt and have no idea what i’m doing so what am i supposed to do when i still find myself comparing who i am now, to who i could have become without the challenges of 2012 still hanging on my shoulders when i lay in bed at night, thinking about how different i would be if life hadn’t thrown me a curveball that knocked me off home plate and out of my comfort zone, out of the dreams of an ivy league school or graduating with high honors - when i’m just lucky to be graduating on time. while my peers are getting acceptance letters, i’m getting the reminder that the battle has just begun, the war of me against myself in accepting the past as it is, regretting my mental disorder will not make it go away no matter how hard i fight. i know that forgiveness equals growth, a never-ending road of constantly changing twisting and winding paths that never seem to have any clues as to which one is the right one. i’ve blindly picked a path, a quest if you will. i am on a quest to be the best no no, let me rephrase, MY best because my best is all i can give and someday, those that told me otherwise will be eating those sugar coated words when i have finally accepted MY best is true success. so when i was little, i did dream of becoming a princess but today, i’m dreaming of being a better me than yesterday
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Jan 16, 2014
Jan 16, 2014 at 7:36 PM UTC
a better me
when i was little, i dreamt of being a princess because taking charge is what i do best and why not do it in a long pink dress? i may not be royalty but i am royally ******* by being an overemotional teenager who ... listens a bit too much to what society says and not enough to what she has to say about herself i feel like that needle in a haystack when it comes to the future. i’m still asking if i can use the bathroom when i’m expected to have my whole life planned out by the time the leaves start to change and i have to surgically remove my arm to sell on the streets so four years from now i’m not living on one ... with nothing but a fancy degree held above my head when it rains the cold realization that i am $100,000 in debt and have no idea what i’m doing so what am i supposed to do when i still find myself comparing who i am now, to who i could have become without the challenges of 2012 still hanging on my shoulders when i lay in bed at night, thinking about how different i would be if life hadn’t thrown me a curveball that knocked me off home plate and out of my comfort zone, out of the dreams of an ivy league school or graduating with high honors - when i’m just lucky to be graduating on time. while my peers are getting acceptance letters, i’m getting the reminder that the battle has just begun, the war of me against myself in accepting the past as it is, regretting my mental disorder will not make it go away no matter how hard i fight. i know that forgiveness equals growth, a never-ending road of constantly changing twisting and winding paths that never seem to have any clues as to which one is the right one. i’ve blindly picked a path, a quest if you will. i am on a quest to be the best no no, let me rephrase, MY best because my best is all i can give and someday, those that told me otherwise will be eating those sugar coated words when i have finally accepted MY best is true success. so when i was little, i did dream of becoming a princess but today, i’m dreaming of being a better me than yesterday
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45
Magnetically drawn by your goddess curves. Mind weaving slick scenarios.
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Aug 29, 2013
Aug 29, 2013 at 1:43 PM UTC
Curveball
Have the ***** the SPIRIT the SPINAL BONES stacked strong and straight Have the GUMPTION the STRENGTH Have the JAW to take a knock for honesty Have the FREEDOM for goodness sake Don’t tell me what you should tell me something REAL Say what I know you’re thinking, Say it LOUD Be proud of your thought think for yourself Throw a curveball of integrity into the conversation leading to apathy Say it with your EYES as well as your lips Don’t just mouth the words like some mechanical clone People need to push up against your SOUND Rub lies up the wrong way stop saying what is safe Try to match untruth WORD for WORD with the straight, black, hard line that runs right through people’s shifting eyes Be UNCOMFORTABLE UNCOMPROMISING Speak your words like a gift to heads starved for RIGHT Speak up man Speak up to the man Let your speech slam against the grain don’t be a fool swimming with the tide give people the PEARLS of your mind Don’t ever be blinded for the sake of a world without a spine Say the words that have been buried deep under a pile of correctness and say them NOW. © 2012 Zoe Tuckey
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Jul 23, 2012
Jul 23, 2012 at 7:21 AM UTC
PC
Honey-flowing rivulets of jazz-beaten syncope, Trumpets blowing smoke across the room, ‘Curveball’ Sammy hustles bass behind the bar, Snares his songbird in a played back loop. Harlem shufflers work the floor, breaking safe, Clave rhythm scufflers with a New York twist, Black keys write with borrowed brass on iv’ry walls, Pick the lock on a swelt’ring southern riff.
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Jun 12, 2019
Jun 12, 2019 at 10:39 PM UTC
Jazz Club
There once was a child living wild and free Within that child are an abundance of dreams To become anything his mind wishes to be. One day the moon glistens and seduces his eye And the white puffy suits begin to suit his mind. A week later his minds ideas begin to diversify. He sees a hero in blue show what he can do, so, Now he wants to grow up and catch bad guys too. In another week or two that idea will be through. Next thing you know, he’s playing catch with dad Watching ball on TV thinking “That would be rad!” But that doesn’t last and he decides to move past Because as you grow up you find out who you are And realize that not everyone can be a shining star. Rather, be your own star, that’s what’ll take you far. Time flies by and this child is now a grown man. His mind has matured and he developed a plan To become as successful and happy as he can. He still misses the days where he could dream Of anything his mind could dream to be, but, He knows you must be blind before you can see. Now he’s is the real world doing what he loves. He worked for what he wanted and never gave up When life threw a curveball he put on a catchers glove. It doesn’t take a man to fill a boy’s shoes It takes a boy to fill a man’s shoes. In other words, Don’t let people tell you what to do with your life. You were born with your own two feet To eventually walk in your own two shoes. If you let someone fill your own shoes You will lose the feet you were born with to walk on. Instead of living a life in the driver seat You have to settle as a passenger Letting the driver control your direction.
0
Sep 2, 2012
Sep 2, 2012 at 8:10 PM UTC
Untitled 2
There once was a child living wild and free Within that child are an abundance of dreams To become anything his mind wishes to be. One day the moon glistens and seduces his eye And the white puffy suits begin to suit his mind. A week later his minds ideas begin to diversify. He sees a hero in blue show what he can do, so, Now he wants to grow up and catch bad guys too. In another week or two that idea will be through. Next thing you know, he’s playing catch with dad Watching ball on TV thinking “That would be rad!” But that doesn’t last and he decides to move past Because as you grow up you find out who you are And realize that not everyone can be a shining star. Rather, be your own star, that’s what’ll take you far. Time flies by and this child is now a grown man. His mind has matured and he developed a plan To become as successful and happy as he can. He still misses the days where he could dream Of anything his mind could dream to be, but, He knows you must be blind before you can see. Now he’s is the real world doing what he loves. He worked for what he wanted and never gave up When life threw a curveball he put on a catchers glove. It doesn’t take a man to fill a boy’s shoes It takes a boy to fill a man’s shoes. In other words, Don’t let people tell you what to do with your life. You were born with your own two feet To eventually walk in your own two shoes. If you let someone fill your own shoes You will lose the feet you were born with to walk on. Instead of living a life in the driver seat You have to settle as a passenger Letting the driver control your direction.
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35
My voice I cannot deny I'm blinded by the times My thoughts I cannot ignore I miss everything from before Everytime life throws a curveball I cannot help but fall When I'm down on my knees I start to crawl My heart I cannot feel I have nothing that's real
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Jun 7, 2015
Jun 7, 2015 at 8:40 PM UTC
What's Real?
Look, I know you're angry I forgot to buy the milk for the third time this month and sometimes I don't do enough, baby, I know. I'm a curveball, but you're sick of being blindsided. We're going to end up breaking up or marrying, you know that? I don't want to break up. Then do you want to marry? I don't want to marry either. Then what are we doing? What are we- Sometimes when You kiss me in a thunderstorm, like a prayer like a sunrise like the feeling of falling before you're actually falling like how we used to I almost forget that we're different people now. No baby, it's not just pillowtalk, I swear. In this dream, my arms are stretched like birds my heart in your hands and your name in my mouth- God, will you just listen? It's fine. Whatever. Go back to your phone. It was just another stupid metaphor for us anyway. Loving you is a dead end street but I don't care about healthy anymore. In our backyard, vines wrangle a sycamore tree so tightly, you couldn't sever one without the other.
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Dec 20, 2018
Dec 20, 2018 at 12:59 PM UTC
Pillowtalk
From the prelude it had my undivided attention. Cup of coffee in hand I commenced reading the tale: "My Life" The intriguing twists, the plausable comebacks. "I" seem to simply bounce back no matter the size of the curveball life has in store. Filled with mystery, drama, action, comedy and romance, it's hard for any critic to categorise, to pinpoint a suitable genre. I have barely just begun, and am truly looking forward to discovering the adventures that are yet to be documented. And one day, this manuscript will be published. Unedited, of course, as editing will cause it to lose its impact. The purpose of this life . . .
0
Dec 9, 2013
Dec 9, 2013 at 8:28 AM UTC
Purpose of This Life
good god a gaggle of girls read the dispatch thrice; the hierarchical lines some straight and some dotted but all I know they got a genealogical baseball team femi-nine and maybe an NFL eleven when the twins get older (husbands and sons ride the motorcycle bench and back up if necessary, and good for musical accompaniment) ~oh yeah, for Medusa~ this megillah message team meant for  me to assauge my mother hubbard accusations  only partial reveals the player’s names: but if you google a gaggle of strong women you become informed there is a: Queens Esther, Miriam, an Eve, four matriarchal outfielders, Batsheva pitching and only Ruth, can catch her **** curveball in between an occasional poem gig whose costs are covered under the mental health clause of a health care plan but only in California   too cavalier, get it, you prefer this perhaps sinewed strength in arms that can carry three children at once, age is not a factual issue, for there is an army of women soldiers who are a troop contingent, everyone’s back is covered always-full stop- they curve like the Earth’s crust, magma formed strong and mineral rich, curved to better resist the comets the heavens cannot resist to send & test the mettle of a gaggle of stronger women sinewy arms entwined reenforced alas the grandpa must here resist and rest, lunch prep before Sgt. Stubby movie at noon, in reclining chairs they ride like wild horses and all our shushing noisier than their giggles just google a gaggle of strong kids, you’ll see what I mean in this, we do possess a giggle of expertise sunday 10:15am
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Apr 15, 2018
Apr 15, 2018 at 10:28 AM UTC
good god a gaggle of girls
good god a gaggle of girls read the dispatch thrice; the hierarchical lines some straight and some dotted but all I know they got a genealogical baseball team femi-nine and maybe an NFL eleven when the twins get older (husbands and sons ride the motorcycle bench and back up if necessary, and good for musical accompaniment) ~oh yeah, for Medusa~ this megillah message team meant for  me to assauge my mother hubbard accusations  only partial reveals the player’s names: but if you google a gaggle of strong women you become informed there is a: Queens Esther, Miriam, an Eve, four matriarchal outfielders, Batsheva pitching and only Ruth, can catch her **** curveball in between an occasional poem gig whose costs are covered under the mental health clause of a health care plan but only in California   too cavalier, get it, you prefer this perhaps sinewed strength in arms that can carry three children at once, age is not a factual issue, for there is an army of women soldiers who are a troop contingent, everyone’s back is covered always-full stop- they curve like the Earth’s crust, magma formed strong and mineral rich, curved to better resist the comets the heavens cannot resist to send & test the mettle of a gaggle of stronger women sinewy arms entwined reenforced alas the grandpa must here resist and rest, lunch prep before Sgt. Stubby movie at noon, in reclining chairs they ride like wild horses and all our shushing noisier than their giggles just google a gaggle of strong kids, you’ll see what I mean in this, we do possess a giggle of expertise sunday 10:15am
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39
An encounter that shook the stars made them shoot across the sky, urging lovers to throw wishes here and there with no hope in mind She time-traveled at  his "hello" he shook at her reply what happened to the cosmos? could they have re-arranged? what magical power took over the Earth to make gravity none-existent? She felt weightless but heavy with her past he sweat out all his mistakes or was his body too close to her sun that he melted at her sight He wanted to speak almanacs of his years past but choked at the dense night sky his lungs shrunk in capacity his mind forgot the ability to verbalize vocalize, his mind forgot all sense of language except that of none-verbal nature She wanted to strangle him with the chains that left marks on her heart the wounds that she turned to beautiful tattoos the pickled emotions she had left on that shelf in a desolate basement She wanted to give him a taste of what "hurt" felt like back then and how it morphed her into a beautiful thick skinned creature, fearless of rollercoasters who's highs are intoxicating and who's lows are deadly But.. He... Her... Hell visited Earth that day all its fires burned all sense of logic turned emotions to ashes it anesthetized what drives the heart into overdrive The universe confused its laws of physics gravity lost, oxygen reduced, weightlessness ruled everyone was high Something was wrong it didn't feel like it was happening She had her taste of inception a dream within a dream within a mind diluted with nothing but sobriety how could this be? He was speaking in intervals cut with silences that caused earthquakes in meaning intercepted with glares that burned the wildest of wild fires   Life you threw one hell of a curveball that changed the orbit of her being Turning her the other way slowing down time or so it felt What the hell is happening She has this under control When her schizophrenic selves came out to play they failed miserably She gawked at his jittery hands eyes dilated with confusion glazed with hesitation filled with questions surreal ethereal not happening pinch me Please
0
Jul 20, 2016
Jul 20, 2016 at 3:43 AM UTC
Pinch Me
An encounter that shook the stars made them shoot across the sky, urging lovers to throw wishes here and there with no hope in mind She time-traveled at  his "hello" he shook at her reply what happened to the cosmos? could they have re-arranged? what magical power took over the Earth to make gravity none-existent? She felt weightless but heavy with her past he sweat out all his mistakes or was his body too close to her sun that he melted at her sight He wanted to speak almanacs of his years past but choked at the dense night sky his lungs shrunk in capacity his mind forgot the ability to verbalize vocalize, his mind forgot all sense of language except that of none-verbal nature She wanted to strangle him with the chains that left marks on her heart the wounds that she turned to beautiful tattoos the pickled emotions she had left on that shelf in a desolate basement She wanted to give him a taste of what "hurt" felt like back then and how it morphed her into a beautiful thick skinned creature, fearless of rollercoasters who's highs are intoxicating and who's lows are deadly But.. He... Her... Hell visited Earth that day all its fires burned all sense of logic turned emotions to ashes it anesthetized what drives the heart into overdrive The universe confused its laws of physics gravity lost, oxygen reduced, weightlessness ruled everyone was high Something was wrong it didn't feel like it was happening She had her taste of inception a dream within a dream within a mind diluted with nothing but sobriety how could this be? He was speaking in intervals cut with silences that caused earthquakes in meaning intercepted with glares that burned the wildest of wild fires   Life you threw one hell of a curveball that changed the orbit of her being Turning her the other way slowing down time or so it felt What the hell is happening She has this under control When her schizophrenic selves came out to play they failed miserably She gawked at his jittery hands eyes dilated with confusion glazed with hesitation filled with questions surreal ethereal not happening pinch me Please
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77
Traveling in hard rain Caution sign flash, curve ahead Metamorphosis © 2017 Jim Davis
0
Mar 28, 2017
Mar 28, 2017 at 12:26 PM UTC
Curveball Haiku
Why can't life stop? Why won't it leave me alone? I guess everything I do, I can't trust myself. My actions have no meaning, My word empty, And when I can't tell up from down Life throws another curveball. I'm getting bad again, From guessing myself Maybe I should stop But I can't, and that's when I'm most vulnerable, And my monsters come out to play.
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Apr 24, 2014
Apr 24, 2014 at 5:53 PM UTC
Confused
everything can be so open to interpretation, hey which version now, which version life loves to throw that wrench upon the curveball to twist a thought and make one think I'm so mad about you, really crazy for you and I cannot even show it, like I want question is, are you mad at me? I get the need for breaks and things I guess, it's really a case of tragado como one man stuck in a boat, sees an island and shouts, 'Land!' while a counterpart on there shouts, 'Boat!' what irony!
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Nov 14, 2013
Nov 14, 2013 at 3:51 PM UTC
mad
Things to remember when the storms of life are raging. It's true, that at times life throws us a curveball, at those times it is best to swing the bat and not just drop the bat and give up, but to keep swinging and giving all I have got to keep living life one day at a time. In life sometimes my problems seemed too numerous and burdens so hard to bear it felt like the end of everything. Later on I came to realize that it was just  simply a start of a new chapter in my life. A new beginning not the end at all. I just needed to look at things differently and gain a new perspective. In life problems come and go. They seem to rowl in and out like a tide. It is best not to get caught in its current or get swept up in a tidal wave but instead to make the most of everyday. To look for and appreciate even the smallest of blessings.
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Aug 17, 2017
Aug 17, 2017 at 4:03 PM UTC
When The Storm Rolls In
Lord, I don't know where to begin. Life has thrown me a crazy curveball right now and I'm feeling a little anxious about it. I know that this is supposed to be a time of joy, celebration and thanksgiving, but I haven't been feeling it quite so much. I know there are lots of things to be joyful and thankful for: friends, family, my faith, food, water, clothing, shelter, a good job, being alive, being able to see a sunrise or sunset and the list goes on. Thank you for these Lord, and please help me always be mindful of the many blessings you have given me in my life! Lord, you are the Prince of Peace. Right now, I could use some peace of mind, body and spirit in this crazy world. You are the King of the Universe and all creation; help me rest in the knowledge that everything is under your command. You are in control. You are the Divine Physician, healer of body and mind. Please Lord, heal what ails me physically and cast out any fear or doubt with your perfect love. In the meantime, help me find my strength and comfort in You. Help me carry this cross of mine and, by it, help me to become more holy, more empathetic to those who are also in need of Your Comfort. Walk with me Lord on this road I am on and, if necessary, carry me. Sometimes it's hard to see you, and sometimes it seems you are far away. Give me the grace to see with eyes of faith and seek you and find you all around me in big and small ways. But you say: "I know the plans I have for you. Plans to prosper you and not harm you. Plans to give you a hope and a future. You will call on me and pray to me and I will listen to you. You will seek me, and you will find me when you seek me with all your heart". (Jeremiah 29: 11-13) Help me see you in someone who smiles at me as they pass by, the joy that comes in a walk outside on a nice fall day, the incredible beauty of a sunrise or sunset, on a good day with little pain, or having the strength and endurance for a long day and still feeling good afterwards. Lord, I trust you. Help me trust you in this too and lean on the support and encouragement of my friends, family, spouse, church, and most importantly, You my Lord God. Please help me make a speedy and full recovery, so I can get back to the great work that you have so blessed and gifted me to be able to do. Help me continue to find joy in the job and strength for the journey. Bless my work Lord, that it may be a blessing for others and a blessing for you that others might change lives and hearts for the better and bring people closer to you! AMEN
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Feb 6, 2025
Feb 6, 2025 at 9:43 PM UTC
Healing Comfort (Seeing Jesus)
Lord, I don't know where to begin. Life has thrown me a crazy curveball right now and I'm feeling a little anxious about it. I know that this is supposed to be a time of joy, celebration and thanksgiving, but I haven't been feeling it quite so much. I know there are lots of things to be joyful and thankful for: friends, family, my faith, food, water, clothing, shelter, a good job, being alive, being able to see a sunrise or sunset and the list goes on. Thank you for these Lord, and please help me always be mindful of the many blessings you have given me in my life! Lord, you are the Prince of Peace. Right now, I could use some peace of mind, body and spirit in this crazy world. You are the King of the Universe and all creation; help me rest in the knowledge that everything is under your command. You are in control. You are the Divine Physician, healer of body and mind. Please Lord, heal what ails me physically and cast out any fear or doubt with your perfect love. In the meantime, help me find my strength and comfort in You. Help me carry this cross of mine and, by it, help me to become more holy, more empathetic to those who are also in need of Your Comfort. Walk with me Lord on this road I am on and, if necessary, carry me. Sometimes it's hard to see you, and sometimes it seems you are far away. Give me the grace to see with eyes of faith and seek you and find you all around me in big and small ways. But you say: "I know the plans I have for you. Plans to prosper you and not harm you. Plans to give you a hope and a future. You will call on me and pray to me and I will listen to you. You will seek me, and you will find me when you seek me with all your heart". (Jeremiah 29: 11-13) Help me see you in someone who smiles at me as they pass by, the joy that comes in a walk outside on a nice fall day, the incredible beauty of a sunrise or sunset, on a good day with little pain, or having the strength and endurance for a long day and still feeling good afterwards. Lord, I trust you. Help me trust you in this too and lean on the support and encouragement of my friends, family, spouse, church, and most importantly, You my Lord God. Please help me make a speedy and full recovery, so I can get back to the great work that you have so blessed and gifted me to be able to do. Help me continue to find joy in the job and strength for the journey. Bless my work Lord, that it may be a blessing for others and a blessing for you that others might change lives and hearts for the better and bring people closer to you! AMEN
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Life The crack of dawn, Grogginess kicking in, Struggling to get up for the day, Everyday just like the rest, Same routine, Sleep. Eat. Learn. Study. Sleep. But one day something changes, A kink is thrown in the system, Nothing is the same again, Going to school different every day, Trying to adapt to the change, But it is hard to change, To this lifestyle that is different, Not knowing what to do, Or what to choose, For life has thrown a curveball, In my life plan, And I don’t know what to choose, Eventually will have to make decisions, Which I’m not ready to make, For I’m afraid if I choose, I will make a wrong choice, Time is ticking, And I have to choose soon, For not being ready is not helpful, It is coming too fast, For panicking is what I’m doing Do I choose sports or school, Will I make the right choice, Or suffer my own doom, These choices will help mold my fate, And the pressure of the choices is unbearable, For I can’t decide a choice, I love all the stuff I do, But I don’t know if I’m ready to say goodbye, To my friends. Sports. School. Or life too. For life is going by fast, And I can keep up with it, I wish I could just stay back and live in the good ol’ days.
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Feb 5, 2019
Feb 5, 2019 at 12:59 PM UTC
Life
new experiences fade the old no matter how vital the old might be we don't get a choice we just do new things and **** there it goes parts of you fall away bit by bit i try to remember the whole but am faced only with the half the left hand falls, the right shoulder the memory of yelling at me upstairs when i was younger of picking me up from cross country practice replaced by a hospital bed and series of tubes 54 is far too young and it wasn't even one of the plethora of plagues you endured it was a curveball from the east wedging into the brain forming a puddle of bacteria and eating away slowly who'd have thought your heart would stay intact or your liver or your lungs yet something unforeseen soon the memories will fade yet more replaced by a skeleton wearing a pitt hat with a full glass of pepsi tugging downward at the bones watching ncis, talking about fixing the porsche the jaw bones rattling, fading away again faced with the half and the prospect of the none ashes three parts body, two parts pepsi, one part ink and that part housing the memories shrinking against my will
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Apr 26, 2017
Apr 26, 2017 at 3:18 AM UTC
Pitt hats and pepsi
you're Woodside's Arcanine, and it took me five years and an hour to finally find you, and by the time I got to your door, my skull was already rolling off my shoulders, to catch every angle of your rakish design until my heart burst out from my neck. and I wish the cold shower did enough to quiet the fever and calm the bones, so I never missed every curveball I threw, and would be wise enough to tell when it's time to fold.
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Mar 23, 2017
Mar 23, 2017 at 1:04 AM UTC
I always wipe the blood off my heart with the hand I shake with.