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"decompress" poems
The lull of a restless night relieves my senses It's monotone silence maintains my breath The cold night breeze enters through an open window It whispers soft tunes and attempts to put me to sleep The humming of an exhausted laptop helps me decompress It distracts me from overthinking and blocks out my stress As the night goes on it starts to rain It comforts my senses and cleanses my pain This time-worn house cracks and creaks It talks of troubled times and how it came to be This place I call home proves i’m never alone And it's always there to support me
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Jul 24, 2018
Jul 24, 2018 at 9:25 AM UTC
The Sounds of Midnight
When you're in such a mess, You know its not just stress, Self too tangled, can't decompress, Too complicated to express. ~A.d | 13 Dec 2014
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Mar 7, 2015
Mar 7, 2015 at 5:27 AM UTC
» Not just stress «
I am air; I am everywhere. I am the breeze in the trees, I am the moving clouds above, I am the wind, dancing as I pass I am air; I am everywhere. I expand; I decompress; I warm; I cool; I am air; I am everywhere. I am the breathe in you, I am the swirling feeling in your stomach, I am the oxygen, encompassing every part of you. I am air; I am everywhere. I am in the heavens, I am in the balloons, I am in the rivers, I am in the reeds, I am air; I am everywhere. I am invisible, but I am there. I am nowhere, but I am everywhere.
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Sep 30, 2014
Sep 30, 2014 at 9:22 AM UTC
I am air.
skimming the feed of poetry reading the works of poets liking here and there without ever a care some of us rather copiously we all have our favorites but the poem is just the beginning of the start with a spark if you never look at the activity you are missing the best part it's the jam that turns me on in comments short or long continuing the song so don't be offended of the flame that's ignited its all rather splendid to fire the wordplay excited it's not really a contest but more of a sinuous ebb and flow hoping for a laugh or looking to decompress when you have a day that blows
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Mar 30, 2017
Mar 30, 2017 at 2:12 PM UTC
it's all about the wordplay
Anybody else got that one person or song You could go without it all day long You could be angrier than a dog with rabies Or someone who got robbed daily Why is it that when that person or song Hppens to be around or on that all of a days Aonizing moments seem to just slip on by To another place or another time in rhyme It's like all those bad vibes fall apart when Something like that touches the heart This is an odd little occurrence but im sure it's a normal occurrence Helping me decompress and acquiesce too I guess that mood changer is all we need Sometimes (hint, pay attention to the capital letters)
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Oct 15, 2014
Oct 15, 2014 at 8:26 AM UTC
Mood Changer
The world's out of order My life is a mess I need a weekend of chillin' To help decompress A few days of football And drinks and good friends Will fix up my mood And get this blackness to end My wife's with another And my car died en route To my place of employment So, I got the boot The dog found a new friend he met up with a skunk And what's left of my house Has a wonderful funk I'm sitting here working on Sunday's headache Even though it's still only Friday I'm running a tab, cause the bank's overdrawn It's a bourbon and beer and a rye day My ex called this morning Said our daughters in jail And she has no money to help pay the bail That black cloud of dismal Still over my head I should have rolled over And stayed home in bed They say your problems happen in threes Multiply that by five And it happened to me So it's time to move on Sit and chill for a while Forget all the crap And just sit, drink, and smile I'm sitting here working on Sunday's headache Even though it's still only Friday I'm running a tab, cause the bank's overdrawn It's a bourbon and beer and a rye day
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Aug 22, 2012
Aug 22, 2012 at 7:23 PM UTC
Working on Sunday's Headache on Friday
The Doctors point and whisper With crude and handmade tools. Pinch and cut and decompress like blood soaked sweating ghouls. A slash, a snap, a sting make a finger move. The swollen eye, it twitches and the mouth begins to drool. Still no heartbeat, still no life in the body, three days dead, yet there is the softest sentence uttered by the head; Slipping slug-like out from desperate lips in dread. With unfocused twitching eyes this is what it said: "Let this one thing still be sacred; The shroud between the dead and living. Let the sleeping dogs now lie, The Dead we're never meant to sing. "Don't bring Death to Living lands Don't take back the hourglass sand. Leave the idols where they stand. Leave the blood on bloodstained hands." The doctor ***** his head: "Is there movement in the brain?" Another doctor shakes his own: "None that can sustain" Sowing shut his lips they say: "Disturb us not again". But a wordless sorrow is intact in the soul that still remains. Once again they dig in deeper to find the glitch that kills. With their knives and scissors and noises crude and shrill. The dead head slowly drops with eyes wet, wide and still, that meet the eye of a mocking bird upon the window sill.
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Apr 21, 2014
Apr 21, 2014 at 7:51 AM UTC
Leave the Blood on Bloodstained Hands
Now that I’ve told you all my secrets Won’t you come in the night and ****** me with the truth? Push me down, and tie me to the bed that I made Freudian-slipping between layers of *in vino veritas conversations* When I manifested from under the mask where I just want to be accepted as both the light and my shadow Won’t you come pull my dark passenger from the dark depths of my sacral chakra? My deepest desires spiraling out, you've got me wrapped around your finger I am the snake coiled around the core of the sweetest fruit I just want to savor Then slither back home To the Goddess of the Abode To decompress this tension To Rise up and slit my throat at the vortex of expression
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Jul 28, 2016
Jul 28, 2016 at 10:30 PM UTC
II. The Sweetest Fruit: Svadhishthana
Let's get away and put the mind at ease. Let's relax and focus upon the sweet, salty ocean breeze. Fold up the newspaper and tuck it away, De-stress and decompress from all that is everyday. So let's lean back a little more in this beach chair of ours, Stretching out a little more to get the sand between our toes, Tucked in the sand, sticking out and sun-brown like little pieces of drift wood. The warmth of the sun combined with ocean spray in the wind Hits perfectly upon our changing from light to dark brown skin. We've never been one to have an umbrella drink in hand But our Mexican beer with lime sits next to us sweating in the sand. So as the day wears on we'll chit and chat, talking about this and that, Watching the sun slide down we pull lower our beat up old straw hat To better hide what is an already sun-burnt face In this, what over the years has become our quiet place. It's more than true that time goes quickly when having fun, And we barely remember where and when we had begun. Regardless, we wonder how it has possibly gone so fast and where it went, But not a moment would we not consider time well spent.
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Sep 23, 2012
Sep 23, 2012 at 2:11 AM UTC
Drift Wood in the Sand
Sunday’s an auspicious day to suggest that you, as a student, take a recess in order to try and decompress from our studying and stress Now, of course, if you’re so possessed, or some might even say obsessed, you could study for a test, we all want to do our best but some work habits can oppress and leave one all depressed Just  take a needed rest and if your needs are unaddressed get caressed when you’re undressed some would have that thought suppressed or simply left it unexpressed but under oath I would attest and to a priest I have confessed all my roommates acquiesced that for relaxation it’s the best and quickest way to get unstressed there are a hundred things I could suggest you type “A”s tend to make everything a contest in this, there are no professors for you to impress this isn’t a competitive, academic trap, trick or jest I just know that, on Monday, this girl will be refreshed
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Apr 30, 2023
Apr 30, 2023 at 11:11 PM UTC
It’s Sunday
Been stressed.  Been depressed. Been too depleted to decompress. Had my issues and lost my way. Lost myself trying not to stray. Had some highs. Had some lows. Had some smiles to put on some shows. From sleepless nights to morning daze. From not eating food to stress weight-gains. I’ve had little-to-nothing to my name; Suffered silently in my shame. Been misvalued and disregarded, or inconsiderably bombarded. Been tried and been tested. Even been disrespected, but the bomb inside still hasn’t blown. I’ve done my part with the love I’ve shown. If rejected or not well-received, then shake the dust off of your feet and leave, ‘cause while the love you have for them is real, so is loving yourself and keeping your soul at peace. You can only do so much for others. Love yourself enough not to give up or quit. & when life hits, hit back 🥊 💛 You’ve gone far for others. Make sure to take care of yourself too. #balance #boundaries #love #peace #knowyourworth 👌🏽✌🏽
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Nov 18, 2023
Nov 18, 2023 at 2:08 PM UTC
you matter
I’m finding myself very stressed I think it’s time to decompress 1 2 3 Breath 3 2 1 Breath B R E A T H Stress free.... If it was only that E A S Y
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Mar 14, 2019
Mar 14, 2019 at 8:32 AM UTC
Breath
A broken guitar tells me to shut it on every rest note. And I tell myself to ditch old baggage on the side of the road to clean my tattered knapsack of cobwebs and broken light bulbs. So I divest, Decompress in present because right now, I'm at peace. You speak over church bells at the top of the hour and I listen like nothing else matters. But I only hear the future My future, your future, our future                     the world's future. It's not often, but every once in a while midnight slaps me with a sound I can't explain. Even if I explain myself I ramble around the point like an arrow with no tip. The weird thing about time is it's a lot like music, or a galaxy, but right in the palm of soft hands and ambitious souls It only makes sense with experience, and getting lost in a pavilion of nervous butterflies only seen in lucid dreams. The world is old. We're young. We're lost. And so is everyone else. Tell me about your favorite constellation, your favorite letter of the alphabet, what makes you tick, and why. One day, after learning about your spectrum, and where it intersects with mine we'll dance in space. I'll come to my senses and question nothing Not even the silence between our lips.
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May 2, 2017
May 2, 2017 at 10:39 AM UTC
Waking
A cozy blanket of numbness is what I seek Far away from people and their faux complexities Their insistence on infecting you with vile opinions I need to distance myself away from the poison that is humanity To have the ability of seeing their petty emotions Through a pair of binoculars I tire from episodes consisting of synaptic overloads Decompress, readdress, and be free of stress I desire the chance to finally say that I just don't give a ****
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Sep 30, 2015
Sep 30, 2015 at 7:23 PM UTC
It's A Practiced Apathy
Maybe thugs aren’t shooters, They all need to decompress. Calling themselves gangsters, Never should they be blessed. Thugs don’t get all their girls, They pay them just big bucks. Killing like they own all worlds, Murdering with all their Glocks. Blood gangs, where are the Crips? Crip gangs, where is the Bloods? They are fake owning their cribs, Murdering just to own any goods. Gangsters don’t own their swags, It’s the Rap Game, it’s the G Code. They rob and steal, filling all bags, Man, these gangsters seem all old!
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Aug 3, 2018
Aug 3, 2018 at 4:54 PM UTC
Gangsters
***Rustic memoirs decompress under the kokoros era of ink's fluid vibrant black belt disciple submerged to the holy ground bridges         where growethst the tiniest green lively tapestries caressing the      impeccable coordination of wilted rugs preparing to take off into the open wide swoon for there's a landor on your lawn, a timber tale lotus blossoming towards the black and blue hues minglin frequency wavered jade bidis becoming the one swarowski bidi on the rampage of our wildest years yearning*** *   colours   fading   into     the    righthearted     unity   of    a     remorsed     graceful    residence  unfolding    the rocket      reggae    vibes   happily    again*
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Jun 28, 2015
Jun 28, 2015 at 12:44 PM UTC
Mending
In the stillness of time, is where I tend to live, Tranquility and peace, is what calmness will give. Everything is at a halt, and is frozen in time, a time to decompress and to just to unwind. To live in this state, will be so divine, happiness for those few moments, will feel just fine. I wish that I could stay, in this frame of reposed mind, just to dwell for a lifetime, Frozen in this time. B.R. Date: 10/18/2024
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Oct 18, 2024
Oct 18, 2024 at 6:39 PM UTC
The Stillness of Time
Sometimes, what I really want Is to be engulfed in silence To blink, and open my eyes Greeted by nothingness Just gentle nothingness I'd blink Close Open Eyes And still Nothing And I'd just sit there Silence holding my everything Caressing flesh And allowing nothing to pierce my thoughts and hearing Save for whatever I decide to allow I'd see nothing No one Ne'er a voice nor another body Sometimes, I wish to be engulfed by silence And allow it to become my everything I'd finally have time to cry To decompress To allow every pain that I've experienced Every frustration Every curiosity Every emotion To be released And once I'd done mine, I'd ask for yours And if you'd let me, I'd throw all your pain into the silence And we'd never hear from it again The silence For if one allows engulfment for too long One truly must face self And this I assure you Insanity follows Without others Without Him Without friends, families, lovers, strangers, acquaintances, enemies, bosses, & coworkers Silence is nice But I'm glad I am where I am Because I can wish for silence Desire engulfment But secretly be so blessed, That while I wish I do not truly desire.
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Apr 14, 2013
Apr 14, 2013 at 10:31 PM UTC
Inky, Black Silence
Broken me not Broken I forgot Abandoned alone my childhood disowned Survival self-taught Weathered storms so cold Broken I forgot A journey alone I fought and fought Words to decompress Breakthroughs who forgot Insight brings light Questions unanswered Broken me not New life New bonds No more struggling in silence Using words as a weapon Strengthen my mind The world not forgotten my revival profound Broken past in the open Broken me not Reborn my word tree I sit endlessly think A million questions revived I question WHO ME Off-subject life continues my words........ Help ME
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Dec 31, 2024
Dec 31, 2024 at 11:37 AM UTC
Dear Diary
Please let me have several weeks So that my anxiety can decompress Several weeks That I might feel comfort again With you Give me several weeks So the furniture is gone And we can properly pretend That there is no history Past or future Only the present Cause you don't need this And this is just practice For your epic If you don't Stop for a month of Sundays And really think about What it is you're writing Who you're antagonizing I guarantee that you'll never Ever Have time to formulate it all Type for a month And you'll never get far enough To encourage bindings NO more Fix that All that ******** That makes you RAMBLE Yeah I said it You run on at the mouth Just kiss me Tell me how you feel With the mustached upper lip And your fat bottom lip Leave me mouth insides That I have to wipe off Several weeks before you leave me a poem like this Don't do it. I'll leave something that like this Raucous. On blast. Larger than life. Don't **** this up. I JUST got you a job.
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May 21, 2013
May 21, 2013 at 12:19 AM UTC
Several weeks
I'm astonished I'm not getting grey hairs I'm stuck in the cross hairs I thought this would wind down As each step unfolds But it just expanded the road You think I stress out too much? I've been apart of every hand clutch The most used crutch This has taken a toll on me as well You aren't the only one stuck in a well Not everything is as swell As people make it out to be The pain just stays silent As the thoughts grow more intense These scenarios are getting more violent As the time treadmill goes on Fervent headches Should be a thing But I hardly get them Lucky me Throughout my good fortune I can only find the flaws Everyone else is dealing with And it might add a restless spectacle in me Insatiable as they come I might be somebody's bottle of *** Beating the problems out like a drum Whether you're from the big city or straight out of Krum I can redeem you back into it all It'll take some work But it's nothing I'm not acquainted with already Keep those positive thoughts steady And the activity heavy You don't want people thinking you're petty I miss the days of Tom Petty We're all trying to survive in this great country Some live in the country For that exact reason To decompress To wind down From the hecticness that humanity brings I hear the phone ring Who could be up at this hour?
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Mar 19, 2018
Mar 19, 2018 at 4:53 AM UTC
Good Fortune
Today I woke up and I already knew It was going to be An Everything day. It's what I call the days that you wake up and feel like your head is already full of bees, And your stomach doesn't quite feel easy but rather queesy. When I roll over to try to assimilate while I take in deep breaths, and as I stare at my ceiling I feel like my chest is exploding with every feeling under the sun. I close my eyes as I try to decompress the vast, Swirling Galaxy trying to remain contained within. And the sounds of the fan in the background feels like the winds of a high mountain top and the light that randomly billows in feels like it's absorbing into my skin. I breathe in And feel it all fill my lungs with more than air but Life! And on the breath out, it all zooms back to me. I go from the top of the cold Mountain view and it's icy winds that I was just breathing in, pulled back to the fan and the light in my window and as I exhale more air; the further I come back to my mind, my eyes open and there's that ceiling again. The emotions and the thoughts still slowly swirling in and around me like the creamy designs that twirl clockwise in coffee after stirring. I try to breathe, But it just expands me more, I breathe out, I shrink into nobody Until I become No Thing. How can I constantly feel Everything and Nothing All at once... For eternity...
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Oct 25, 2021
Oct 25, 2021 at 3:11 PM UTC
Everything Day
It's the only way I can decompress my thoughts, Problem is when I unravel them I see you. All that's left is you. You were the one I talked to, to untangle my past, my present, you were my future. When does this self loathing and blaming stop? I'm better without you that's for sure, you were always a drug to me, and I'm still waiting on the text or call from you to get me high. I won't be there to pick up the phone. I wont be at your beck and call. I'm better alone. I cant trust that the next girl whom catches my eye. Wouldn't want her going off and pulling a you, but this loneliness won't leave me alone so she will have to do.
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Jun 21, 2017
Jun 21, 2017 at 5:53 AM UTC
I just hide behind the tears of a clown.
Choose another bitter morning routine - whether from cold, coffee, or compression, As in "man, I really need to just relax and decompress" But without the last bit happening. Choose to let it sink in until you can bite it off, Choose the pressure because it feels like home, Choose to dally, choose self-sabotage, Choose kicking at the gears of your routine until Something warps under the strain until It fits like you never believed it would. Choose the long way into work, a million faces Nodding off behind their steering wheels, The city's symphony still trying to get in tune, Still trying to harmonize with, with, with, with Whatever gets them to their job still sane, all Trying to dance to beats only they can hear, Howling out careworn verses they scrawled By trailing their lives along the road: The rhythm of the city is discord and hell.
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Mar 24, 2018
Mar 24, 2018 at 5:01 AM UTC
stuck in
Oh Gygax, If you could see what you've made, What it's become, To those you've touched, With simple dice, paper, and pen, You'd see a community you've helped, A people inspired, Of joys you bring everyday. You introduce to some a world of creativeness, Of fantasy and dragon slaying, To others you've helped provide a creative outlet, Something they thought they'd never have again. You've helped people make friends, Some lifelong, Connecting them in various ways, But through it all, It will have all started, With a 20 sided dice, And a simple question; "Would you like to play?" You've helped some through some rather dark and rough patches, A form of escapism that can't compare, To others you've provided a fun weekly activity, To decompress from the toils of the day-to-day. From the starry eyes of our most youthful, To the slightly hazy eyes of old, Entertainment you've brought to us, From your average joes, To famous folk, The touch of your creation enraptures all that it beholds. My friends and I gather again, On this Friday night, To fight zombie hoards, Kobold warlords, Even a Black pudding or two, And for a little while, In those fleeting instants, They're great hero's of Valara and Altour. So thank you Gygax, for all you've done, as we sit down at this table, from the noble adventuring group known as the Assless Chaps, (Exasperated Sigh) And their beleaguered Dungeon Master.
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Mar 25, 2022
Mar 25, 2022 at 5:03 PM UTC
An ode to Gygax