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"decaffeinated" poems
Dearest Reader, My name is Margot Dylan, and I'm a pariah. On the 16th of April, I told my mother that I was gay. She threw the clay mug that I made for her before she found out I was gay, against the floral, peeling wallpaper mess of a wall, in our kitchen. The decaffeinated peppermint green tea left a wonderful aroma that almost cleansed the room of the stench of 'lesbian'. I met Dylan Dunham a few days after that, and, a few days later, she was the first girl that I ever loved. Dylan wore a red flannel jacket, and was a butch and sometimes a bitch-but I loved her even at her tomboy cruelest. Dylan smoked a cigarette that smelled like lonerism, and she looked at me like she didn't care. My heart skipped a beat, as cliche as it sounds, whenever she would remove the cigarette from her mouth, exhale, and look at me as smoke traveled up her face. I looked at her and knew that she was everything that I wasn't, and everything that I wanted. Dylan was Dianne, before and after school. Dylan was Dianne, who wore floral dresses and lipstick and who ditched her butch clothing in her locker before leaving. Dylan was Dianne, who was straight and who thought Tyler Wesson, from church, was cute. Dylan was Dianne, who had a short hair cut because of track and field, because she explained that she ran a faster time with less hair. Dylan was Dianne, who didn't associate with me before or after school because her parents knew that I was gay. During school hours, the only thing Dylan did keep from Dianne was the lipstick. I was envious of the cigarette because of it's burgundy stains. We would stand in a stall, as she looked across from me, after each drag. She frequently offered her cigarettes, but I refused because I only let love **** me. If she ever brought alcohol, sometimes she'd kiss me. I told her that I loved her and she said, "I know." The only thing that Dylan kept from me was my heart, before she started to smoke cigarettes in the bathroom with Annie Way. I wish you the best moments so they can overcome the worst, Margot Dylan
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Jul 31, 2014
Jul 31, 2014 at 1:50 PM UTC
July 31st, 2014
Dearest Reader, My name is Margot Dylan, and I'm a pariah. On the 16th of April, I told my mother that I was gay. She threw the clay mug that I made for her before she found out I was gay, against the floral, peeling wallpaper mess of a wall, in our kitchen. The decaffeinated peppermint green tea left a wonderful aroma that almost cleansed the room of the stench of 'lesbian'. I met Dylan Dunham a few days after that, and, a few days later, she was the first girl that I ever loved. Dylan wore a red flannel jacket, and was a butch and sometimes a bitch-but I loved her even at her tomboy cruelest. Dylan smoked a cigarette that smelled like lonerism, and she looked at me like she didn't care. My heart skipped a beat, as cliche as it sounds, whenever she would remove the cigarette from her mouth, exhale, and look at me as smoke traveled up her face. I looked at her and knew that she was everything that I wasn't, and everything that I wanted. Dylan was Dianne, before and after school. Dylan was Dianne, who wore floral dresses and lipstick and who ditched her butch clothing in her locker before leaving. Dylan was Dianne, who was straight and who thought Tyler Wesson, from church, was cute. Dylan was Dianne, who had a short hair cut because of track and field, because she explained that she ran a faster time with less hair. Dylan was Dianne, who didn't associate with me before or after school because her parents knew that I was gay. During school hours, the only thing Dylan did keep from Dianne was the lipstick. I was envious of the cigarette because of it's burgundy stains. We would stand in a stall, as she looked across from me, after each drag. She frequently offered her cigarettes, but I refused because I only let love **** me. If she ever brought alcohol, sometimes she'd kiss me. I told her that I loved her and she said, "I know." The only thing that Dylan kept from me was my heart, before she started to smoke cigarettes in the bathroom with Annie Way. I wish you the best moments so they can overcome the worst, Margot Dylan
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The forest green of the trees contrasts so greatly against the soft pastels in the sky; Did someone paint this neighborhood? The odors of garlic & parsley wafting from across the charcoal street. Hums of today's news, all the latest gossip, ooh'ing and ah'ing; endless snippets of candlelight chatter. Occasional dollops of light peering up from sedans passing by. Sounds of zooms blocked out by the steady pulsating of white earbuds. Dogs yipping, sometimes a real bark. Neighbors come and go, reciprocating cordial hello's. Street lights slowly coming alive, for at 8:37, the sun has begun its transition to slumber. They always say, TGIF, thank god it's Friday. As day slips to nigh', the crackles and pops of vinyl come alive behind a slightly rusted window pane. Tonight's secrets not yet revealed, a couple strolls by holding hands, sipping coffees, decaffeinated. A man drunk with regret and a 40 in his belly, he breathes a clumsy, "Hey." Malted liquor questions, their smell & sound, unmistakable gurgling. Street lights now fully illuminated, glances exchanged from passer-byers. He opens the car door for her, and into the dusk they drive. Vehicles come by in even greater numbers, and still searches the young man for $9, a toothbrush, and a shower, even cold. Just another night of just another day, in just another city, in just another neighborhood on just another street. Silence, loud, ominous silence, filtering the senses, the stories, the magic; Isn't ordinary extraordinary?
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Apr 19, 2014
Apr 19, 2014 at 8:52 PM UTC
(EXTRA)Ordinary Old Lou
The forest green of the trees contrasts so greatly against the soft pastels in the sky; Did someone paint this neighborhood? The odors of garlic & parsley wafting from across the charcoal street. Hums of today's news, all the latest gossip, ooh'ing and ah'ing; endless snippets of candlelight chatter. Occasional dollops of light peering up from sedans passing by. Sounds of zooms blocked out by the steady pulsating of white earbuds. Dogs yipping, sometimes a real bark. Neighbors come and go, reciprocating cordial hello's. Street lights slowly coming alive, for at 8:37, the sun has begun its transition to slumber. They always say, TGIF, thank god it's Friday. As day slips to nigh', the crackles and pops of vinyl come alive behind a slightly rusted window pane. Tonight's secrets not yet revealed, a couple strolls by holding hands, sipping coffees, decaffeinated. A man drunk with regret and a 40 in his belly, he breathes a clumsy, "Hey." Malted liquor questions, their smell & sound, unmistakable gurgling. Street lights now fully illuminated, glances exchanged from passer-byers. He opens the car door for her, and into the dusk they drive. Vehicles come by in even greater numbers, and still searches the young man for $9, a toothbrush, and a shower, even cold. Just another night of just another day, in just another city, in just another neighborhood on just another street. Silence, loud, ominous silence, filtering the senses, the stories, the magic; Isn't ordinary extraordinary?
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~ Corrosive elevation Metabolic creation At the mouth of cough drop falls Trails of caustic, nomadic influence: Coffee lips Decaffeinated tongue Resealable groove Reusable embryo White hunter Melt snow Hang fire Black crow Mechanical peak Summit on a stick Chiseled grey The smoke ascending They call "day" Lovely shade of sadness, this Wandering endocarp Hidden in caves, hollows, crags, cellars, and cisterns It came naked From out of the acrid woods And said "The locust are upon us..." ~
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Apr 3, 2022
Apr 3, 2022 at 1:50 PM UTC
Alkaline Mountain
This offends me as a vegan transgender hipster democrat voting Native-American-Indo-Chinese socialist anarchist hybrid illegal alien agnostic-atheist Germanic social engineering major dropout who only vapes fair-trade organic non-GMO decaffeinated French-pressed compressed and hydrated extra-skim grass-fed only protein soy breast milk on the regular and does Hindi Kama Sutra naked crossfit hot yoga 5 times a week. And frankly, since I am also a non-binary tri-gender genderqueer male feminist and I identify as a proponent to legalize cannabis and a Rastafarian, pansexual, genderfluid, Apache helicopter beta mutt of mega multi alpha beta gamma delta omega combo god of hyper death who's adamant about polygamous polyamorous relationships with an pure-bred alpha chihuahua which helped me cross the border of Mexico to let love trump the hate and get a job 3-D printing pink ***** hats all day. My dog also walks me to the local skate park and doggy styles me, while my gender neutral photographer neighbor takes pictures and sells them on the dark web antifa site and if you find that weird you're an ignorant arrogant homophobic gender-assuming globophobic bloodthirsty bacon-loving gun-toting cis-gender pan-sexual patriarchal incestuous sexist racist white-privileged misogynistic populist biased objectified white-privileged anti-communist **** indoor tanning Cheetos cheese-puff-loving republican.
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Jun 15, 2017
Jun 15, 2017 at 4:15 PM UTC
DJ as List-Poet
Dad stays on my diet because I'm not allowed junk food I steal it anyway but he says empty calories must be decaffeinated ***** that the fridge is loaded up with more ***** than an episode of Mad Men If I want a god **** soda, I'll have one I swam out a quarter mile into the ocean I ran five miles last week I walk everywhere and kayak and yeah, I'm a little heave 149 lbs something I ain't proud of but you know what? I'm curvy I'm sweet and I'm in better shape than usual better than when I would take myself upstairs and turn my stomach inside out but I'm heavier and I ain't eating sugar for the rest of the summer. Step off. I'm eating donuts.
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Jul 8, 2013
Jul 8, 2013 at 12:45 PM UTC
An Ode to Weight
Whatever happened to one? One telephone company – Ma Bell! You picked up the receiver, Attached by a squiggly wire, And dialed the phone – literally. You put your finger in the hole For the number or letter; Rotated the dial and back it came, Rotating in reverse, and making that wonderful sound: Ti-ka - Ti-ka - Ti-ka - Ti-ka - Ti-ka - Ti-ka - Ti-ka Then the person on the other end answered And actually said – Hello… No lost calls – no breaking up… Simply one – And it worked. Bleach is even more confusing. If you wanted clean clothes You went to the store and bought Bleach. You did have a choice – Bleach or Bleach. One! It was easy You picked up one bottle or the other – Either one – they were both the same – One! Easy. Today there are 7,826 ½ choices! Bleach that smells like flowers; Bleach that smells like fresh air; (I’m not sure how that’s possible) Bleach that’s like a cool, refreshing stream; Bleach that spills and splashes; Bleach that doesn’t spill or splash. Bleach in colors – Liquid – Solid – Powder… Will there be decaffeinated bleach next? (More about coffee another time) I’m beginning to understand Why people take drugs – The bleach aisle alone is Enough to torment the brain! One was simple. One was effective Choices are nice But better left for the Wine list. http://www.leaves-of-ink.com/2019/06/choices.html
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Jun 30, 2019
Jun 30, 2019 at 8:54 AM UTC
Choices
My sons sit in the faux leather chairs next to the faux fireplace. It is switched off for the summer that is coming. The boys are switched on for much the same reason. I am watching them with lazy eyes. (halfway) The homeless man is here too. He sits in the chair opposite my youngest. They are exchanging introductions. No one is nervous. (I am too near for that.) __ When I am alone, the homeless man will ask me to buy him a cup. I usually do. The 1st time this happened, he pulled a fast-one. This tattered man asked for a triple-shot espresso with steamed milk, setting me back 5 dollars. Now, I’m the one who orders. (A small, dark-roast, with plenty of sugar and milk.) Last time, he chuckled to himself and happily vibrated down the path. Today, he is well-met, but, remains decaffeinated. *** -JBClaywell © P&ZPublications
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Apr 23, 2017
Apr 23, 2017 at 9:35 PM UTC
Coffeehouse Story (4/23/17)
Whatever happened to one? One telephone company – Ma Bell! You picked up the receiver, Attached by a squiggly wire, And dialed the phone – literally. You put your finger in the hole For the number or letter; Rotated the dial and back it came, Rotating in reverse, and making that wonderful sound: Ti-ka - Ti-ka - Ti-ka - Ti-ka - Ti-ka - Ti-ka - Ti-ka Then the person on the other end answered And actually said – Hello… No lost calls – no breaking up… Simply one – And it worked. Bleach is even more confusing. If you wanted clean clothes You went to the store and bought Bleach. You did have a choice – Bleach or Bleach. One! It was easy You picked up one bottle or the other – Either one – they were both the same – One! Easy. Today there are 7,826 ½ choices! Bleach that smells like flowers; Bleach that smells like fresh air; (I’m not sure how that’s possible) Bleach that’s like a cool, refreshing stream; Bleach that spills and splashes; Bleach that doesn’t spill or splash. Bleach in colors – Liquid – Solid – Powder… Will there be decaffeinated bleach next? (More about coffee another time) I’m beginning to understand Why people take drugs – The bleach aisle alone is Enough to torment the brain! One was simple. One was effective Choices are nice But better left for the Wine list.
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Sep 10, 2018
Sep 10, 2018 at 6:00 PM UTC
Choices
I am thoroughly addicted to you And I have been for years Much like I am to coffee. But you're analogous to the kind that's decaffeinated... I guess I just like the taste.
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Jan 31, 2015
Jan 31, 2015 at 7:11 PM UTC
decaf
on saturday morning we grace around recycled rustic tables, lowering our heads over gluten free brown toast topped with gently scrambled free range eggs, adding soya milk to decaffeinated, ethically sourced coffee, self contained in guilt free reusable cups - and still we fret.
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Oct 5, 2019
Oct 5, 2019 at 7:27 AM UTC
Fret
Summers of baseball fields and Decaffeinated Dr. Peppers. Volunteer work because we had Nothing better to do. Meaningless crushes and Unabashed flirting in the Sweltering heat. When July bled into August I thought I would never see you again. But tonight I saw you again. My shame burned behind my eyes and My memories brimmed, threatening to spill over. Suddenly, I didn't want the bubblegum ice cream We used to share. I remembered your laugh and the way your eyes looked in the hot sun. I remembered how we played hide and seek with our friends for hours on end just to have an excuse to escape. I remembered the tan lines we collected and the times we had water gun fights just to have something to do. All at once, I remembered how I left. I remembered how I hurt you. I remember how we yelled until you left. I knew I was sorry And I knew that you were the one who got away. The one I set free by leaving. The one that I would never forget. I'll always want you back. I'll never get over you.
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Mar 17, 2018
Mar 17, 2018 at 9:15 PM UTC
the boy and the bubblegum ice cream
There on the mountain Here in the valley Juan Valdez is somewhere there Everybody knows his name He has no doubt about it It's the myth of coffee cups He seen them all, and cleaning them's a pain Well the beans get picked And the beans get dried Ever since decaffeinated The sun comes up And the beans fall down Everybody only wants a touch of brew Not just for us Java beans still rule Caffeine around the world
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Mar 4, 2018
Mar 4, 2018 at 10:51 AM UTC
The Myth of Coffee Cups (sorry Paul Simon)
Just in case its been miss communicated. Are government Has been heavily underestimated. And unless you chose to become acclimated. And let you mind become Contaminated. While each generation is more uneducated. Just a dying breed being ********** Cops stories being fabricated. That's why they are becoming abominated. Its all a story that's been fabricated. What is that me I've been duplicated I'm not talking cartoons My cells have been fabricated From money that's been allocated. To companies that have become conglomerated. While there CEO'S are greatly compensated. They keep us all checkmated. By making our jobs automated. With machines making jobs eliminated. And our wages are all but dissipated. They try to keep us alienated. Why our lives are infiltrated. They know whether or not what we drink is decaffeinated. All are privacy has been decimated. Thanks to technology that has been created. But just as all things can be hated. We the people our power can be demonstrated. Before we become annihilated. By those who keep us alienated. Why their plan is becoming accelerated. Taking our freedom its confiscated. Adding chemicals to our foods keeping minds contaminated. Our minds our manipulated and captivated. As bombs detonated cause innocent to be devastated. Can't you see us so frustrated. Its time for them to be investigated. All mighty companies to be separated. So all companies can be family orientated. It was we the people when we became declarated. But we gave our freedom away To become isolated. Its time to stand up Its time to be liberated. Before they make us all medicated. Take my words as ye will I may be opinionated. But heed my warning Its all being orchestrated. Our end is prefabricated. Our civilization will be eradicated. Unless we become reeducated. And those behind it all are eliminated. Written By RICHARD B SHICK
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Jun 27, 2018
Jun 27, 2018 at 1:10 AM UTC
THE END IS NEAR
Just in case its been miss communicated. Are government Has been heavily underestimated. And unless you chose to become acclimated. And let you mind become Contaminated. While each generation is more uneducated. Just a dying breed being ********** Cops stories being fabricated. That's why they are becoming abominated. Its all a story that's been fabricated. What is that me I've been duplicated I'm not talking cartoons My cells have been fabricated From money that's been allocated. To companies that have become conglomerated. While there CEO'S are greatly compensated. They keep us all checkmated. By making our jobs automated. With machines making jobs eliminated. And our wages are all but dissipated. They try to keep us alienated. Why our lives are infiltrated. They know whether or not what we drink is decaffeinated. All are privacy has been decimated. Thanks to technology that has been created. But just as all things can be hated. We the people our power can be demonstrated. Before we become annihilated. By those who keep us alienated. Why their plan is becoming accelerated. Taking our freedom its confiscated. Adding chemicals to our foods keeping minds contaminated. Our minds our manipulated and captivated. As bombs detonated cause innocent to be devastated. Can't you see us so frustrated. Its time for them to be investigated. All mighty companies to be separated. So all companies can be family orientated. It was we the people when we became declarated. But we gave our freedom away To become isolated. Its time to stand up Its time to be liberated. Before they make us all medicated. Take my words as ye will I may be opinionated. But heed my warning Its all being orchestrated. Our end is prefabricated. Our civilization will be eradicated. Unless we become reeducated. And those behind it all are eliminated. Written By RICHARD B SHICK
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