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"defective" poems
Doubt is the lonely father of fear Not a clad caped hero Waiting to swoop in And save the day But a two faced killer clown Wearing ****** crocs With electric joy buzzer shocks Sending surges through your veins Sending urges that drive you insane It may be in reason It may be in season But the summer heat Can burn your feet Under the fire of fire Place you in stasis As you wait to find were your space is Letting others tell you were your place is While they race to chase A better life Doubt can be better than blind Adherence You just have to watch out For the dangerous side of doubt Turn detective to fix the defective And Steer clear of the fear That disparages hope and reason
0
Jan 6, 2015
Jan 6, 2015 at 2:00 PM UTC
The Batman Of Doubt
1. He lights another mortar and the dog runs after it barking and trying to bite it he grabs it's back leg as the sky lights up since he had barely thought to look over and the words around here don't reach his mind his ears defective as they are. He says something with his hands something foreign to me but six people watching laugh and so do I. 2. His wife sits with her sons her stomach wide with their third another boy she's gotten so used to talking with her hands that her voice is rusty and her vocabulary limited but she's here as much as the rest sitting and laughing and having a good time. 3. The owner of the house sits off the side in the nicest lawn chair here a cup in her hand we've quit counting how many drinks she's had but she only drinks a couple days a year and nobody is giving her any problems and she seems to be able to be her normal self. She had been questioning me earlier today seeing if I was really a good guy testing whether she'd have to sit at the table with a shotgun every time I spent any time with her niece. 4. Her husband is launching his own collection of mortars off with his brother while her brother-in-law hands the teens the novelties I launch off a dozen flowers and a few spinny things. She occasionally breaks her fingers away from mine to launch off a flower, smokebomb or firecracker and occasionally runs over to poke-chop her uncle who keeps talking to the fireworks. She always comes back and we'll wander by her mom and stepdad (the latter always throws in some sort of comment so we act careful around him) and over to her cousins or toward her aunt and roommate. Occasionally we'll have to get something from the house and we sneak three kisses but we mostly just stay in each others arms keeping each other warm in the almost warm 4th of July night our hands both entwined one of our heads always on the others shoulder and in all the craziness all the family drama everything is perfect and she's smiling so hard her cheeks keep hurting and she keeps telling me how little sleep she's gonna get and I tell her I ain't gonna be able to sleep at all
0
Jul 7, 2013
Jul 7, 2013 at 4:21 AM UTC
Fireworks
1. He lights another mortar and the dog runs after it barking and trying to bite it he grabs it's back leg as the sky lights up since he had barely thought to look over and the words around here don't reach his mind his ears defective as they are. He says something with his hands something foreign to me but six people watching laugh and so do I. 2. His wife sits with her sons her stomach wide with their third another boy she's gotten so used to talking with her hands that her voice is rusty and her vocabulary limited but she's here as much as the rest sitting and laughing and having a good time. 3. The owner of the house sits off the side in the nicest lawn chair here a cup in her hand we've quit counting how many drinks she's had but she only drinks a couple days a year and nobody is giving her any problems and she seems to be able to be her normal self. She had been questioning me earlier today seeing if I was really a good guy testing whether she'd have to sit at the table with a shotgun every time I spent any time with her niece. 4. Her husband is launching his own collection of mortars off with his brother while her brother-in-law hands the teens the novelties I launch off a dozen flowers and a few spinny things. She occasionally breaks her fingers away from mine to launch off a flower, smokebomb or firecracker and occasionally runs over to poke-chop her uncle who keeps talking to the fireworks. She always comes back and we'll wander by her mom and stepdad (the latter always throws in some sort of comment so we act careful around him) and over to her cousins or toward her aunt and roommate. Occasionally we'll have to get something from the house and we sneak three kisses but we mostly just stay in each others arms keeping each other warm in the almost warm 4th of July night our hands both entwined one of our heads always on the others shoulder and in all the craziness all the family drama everything is perfect and she's smiling so hard her cheeks keep hurting and she keeps telling me how little sleep she's gonna get and I tell her I ain't gonna be able to sleep at all
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58
no direction, dressed in distress suppressed by excess of regret expected infection, hard to digest a left mess that's best to forget projected wreck is yet to accept object of the reflected effect where defective breath has wept i rest in the echo of my neglect
0
Sep 5, 2015
Sep 5, 2015 at 9:18 AM UTC
echo of neglect
loyalties change; so did you what you see with your eyes isn't the truth. how much more do i need to see the truth that you can't see with your eyes? the stars look really close together but they're actually really far apart."we learn that in class".what u see with ur eyes isn't the truth. "how far apart is the distance that i need to close between me and-" "it's because you don't know that you want to close that distance, right?" who sees the human face correctly? the mirror, the photographer, or the painter? friend : everybody is beautiful in their own way me : not if you're ugly on the inside and the outside don't make me regret the things i do for you something has tarnished our friendship and it seems hopeless to brighten it what's the difference between "im jealous of you" and "im disappointed in me" it seems to me that there's none i like machines better,humans break too easily -Leo Valdez it's difficult to make someone proud when all that notice are your mistakes i already know i'm defective, u don't have to trouble yourself pointing them out for me it's cold out here, i'm shivering please, get me out of 'here' there is suffering too terrible to name. we just learn to live with the unimaginable(hamiltrash) it says "curiosity killed the cat" in this situation curiosity killed me True love isn’t Romeo and Juliet who died together. It’s Grandma and Grandpa who grew old together.(not mine)
0
Jan 30, 2018
Jan 30, 2018 at 10:29 AM UTC
just some quotes :)
Between stolen kisses The hits and misses We create ourselves this distorted image of what we deserve This façade to aid our acceptance this thing we use to find any remanence Of self confidence that has been ripped away leaving our self importance at bay Our own distortion of inner meaning unable to see what and who we deserve The nerve Of ourselves saying we don't deserve the best and that we deserve everything less than the most it's not fair, how being imperfect makes you believe you're some how defective and its not fair that when we get caught in a place with dont belong with someone we don't belong with The only possible reasoning being that We accept the love we think we deserve but you deserve the best So accept it.
0
Feb 12, 2013
Feb 12, 2013 at 9:53 PM UTC
We Accept The Love We Think We Deserve
Inhale, feel, lets the flavors collide. **** it down if you can Every taste from your poisonous gauntlet Reminds me of me your kiss. Passionate, I keep sipping. I love you more than I love myself. You have become the reason I breathe, And you will prove to be the reason I die. My skin under my eyes loses color. It is tired from the things you have thrown at it. Trying to combat you is a lost cause. In those moments, I look into your brown eyes And try to find something weak Something human. Your blank stare frightens me As it is comparable to a demon, the devil Devoid of remorse, or guilt, or sorrow. Your words cut deeper. They are the IV in my veins They penetrate my skin And invade my bloodstream Yet, I continue to hook their machines Up to my comatose body. I have gone from having a bright smile To wearing a perpetual look of anguish. You have aged me ten years. I stare down at my hands as they tremble. My eyeballs have sunken into my head I am a ruin of anything lifelike. It is a defective disposition But can it be cured? An addiction is a pleasure is a curse That grows as you feed it. I must cut myself off from you, my lifeline, Completely.
0
Jan 22, 2014
Jan 22, 2014 at 1:14 PM UTC
Brown Eyed Monster
I still remember your eyes I still remember you always holding me Keeping me safe from harm with all your charm I remember feeling you looking at me, and I Know you're still there, you're so wonderful! I couldn't help but fall in love with you And get crushes everywhere else, too. It's just so unfair to have found such Lovely romances, and suffer heartbreaks! I can't help where my heart Goes, but that's why I'm torn apart... Please remember I'm always here and so is My love too, it's not easy to be what society Wants of you, especially love! Love is wild and It's so undesired to be told I'm a cheater When I have an excuse, I'm only human too! Just remember I wasn't born with a defective Heart, and it isn't easy to be torn apart.
0
Feb 12, 2015
Feb 12, 2015 at 7:05 AM UTC
"Real" Love Is Not Easy
Standing perplexed Vigorously stabbing button Scowling at passing traffic Prodding repeatedly Slapping neon display like a defective vending machine Arms flailing in impatience Fidgeting on kerb edge. He's the cross crossing man.
0
Nov 27, 2010
Nov 27, 2010 at 3:40 AM UTC
Pelican
What does it say about me, then, that to make life would take mine away?
0
Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 1:53 PM UTC
Defective
BWOY This DISRESPECT Thing’s... ..... Really Interesting..... !!! Many CLAIM Disrespect... Because of TRUTH Said... That Upsets Their Heads... !?! Well In My Experience... These Heads Are DELIRIOUS... !!! Cos’ Their Form of Defence... Is Mostly PURE NONSENSE... ?!? From Women To Men... They Act Like Children... !?! When They’re Taken To Task... For Behaving Like An *** Whose Not Had Some Grass... !!! Standing On Grounds... Where Their Morals AREN'T Sound... !!! QUICK To Run Their Mouths... Like... Lipsticked Clowns... Cos' Their Disrespect Circus... Really Has NO PURPOSE... !?!?!?! Cos Their Acts Are WORTHLESS... Like A... BURNED Epidermis... !!!! Cos' Their Skins Are TOO Thin... For The Truth To WIN... !!! So Their Disrespect Begins... With... RIDICULOUS Links... !!! So... Wrong And Strong... Is What They PROLONG................... When THEIR DISRESPECT... Is Proved To LACK Strength... !!! Because What They Try... Is To Try To... DENY... TheIr Fallacies And LIES... !?! Cos’ They're NOT Wise Guys... !!! Whose Type of DISRESPECT... Leaves People... DEAD... !!!!!! Especially When … They Come INCORRECT... !!! I’ve Now Been Disrespected … By So Many Collectives... That It Feels Like An Infection … That WON’T STOP Spreading... !!! As If I Am... The Target... For IGNORANCE To Market... !?! But It’s Now Become CLEAR... That My Veneer And Thinking Steers... Most Eyes And Ears To Clearly FEAR... When I Start To Draw NEAR... !!!!! Because of My Skin... And Because of My Lips... ?!? And Because My Words... Are TOO PURE For The Herds... of These SHEOPLE People... !!! So I’m TOO BLACK For Some... But NOT Black Enough For Others... Who Share The Same Colour... ?!? As If... Taking Care of My Mother... Was … DISRESPECTING... My Own … Blackness... ?!? Some People Should THINK... BEFORE They Link... Their Words To Things... That Are Clearly STUPID... !!!! So Of Course Some Women... Have Run Their Lips Like SINKING Ships... !!! When It Comes To How... I Break Them Down... DISRESPECT of My TALENT... ?!? When I Choose To CHALLENGE... Their... DOUBLE Standards... !!!!!!!! With Words That RAVAGE... The LIES They... Manage... !!! Has PROVEN To FEED... DISRESPECT Speech... From IGNORANT Peeps’... Who Seem To BELIEVE... That They Really Know Me... ? DISRESPECT For THEM... Are Thoughts That Lend... Themselves To Express... SO MUCH NONSENSE... !?!?! That I Now Call Them... ..... IGNORAMUSES..... !!! So Called... " Friends "... And.... " Acquaintances ".... Should DO THIS LESS... !!! Choose To EXPRESS... A Lot of Talk That’s DEFECTIVE... !!! Because Just Like ME... NOBODY's ABOVE... Being............... .......“ DISRESPECTED “..... !!!!!
0
Aug 23, 2020
Aug 23, 2020 at 12:03 AM UTC
“Disrespected” ... A Poem written by Big Virge 28/2/2020
BWOY This DISRESPECT Thing’s... ..... Really Interesting..... !!! Many CLAIM Disrespect... Because of TRUTH Said... That Upsets Their Heads... !?! Well In My Experience... These Heads Are DELIRIOUS... !!! Cos’ Their Form of Defence... Is Mostly PURE NONSENSE... ?!? From Women To Men... They Act Like Children... !?! When They’re Taken To Task... For Behaving Like An *** Whose Not Had Some Grass... !!! Standing On Grounds... Where Their Morals AREN'T Sound... !!! QUICK To Run Their Mouths... Like... Lipsticked Clowns... Cos' Their Disrespect Circus... Really Has NO PURPOSE... !?!?!?! Cos Their Acts Are WORTHLESS... Like A... BURNED Epidermis... !!!! Cos' Their Skins Are TOO Thin... For The Truth To WIN... !!! So Their Disrespect Begins... With... RIDICULOUS Links... !!! So... Wrong And Strong... Is What They PROLONG................... When THEIR DISRESPECT... Is Proved To LACK Strength... !!! Because What They Try... Is To Try To... DENY... TheIr Fallacies And LIES... !?! Cos’ They're NOT Wise Guys... !!! Whose Type of DISRESPECT... Leaves People... DEAD... !!!!!! Especially When … They Come INCORRECT... !!! I’ve Now Been Disrespected … By So Many Collectives... That It Feels Like An Infection … That WON’T STOP Spreading... !!! As If I Am... The Target... For IGNORANCE To Market... !?! But It’s Now Become CLEAR... That My Veneer And Thinking Steers... Most Eyes And Ears To Clearly FEAR... When I Start To Draw NEAR... !!!!! Because of My Skin... And Because of My Lips... ?!? And Because My Words... Are TOO PURE For The Herds... of These SHEOPLE People... !!! So I’m TOO BLACK For Some... But NOT Black Enough For Others... Who Share The Same Colour... ?!? As If... Taking Care of My Mother... Was … DISRESPECTING... My Own … Blackness... ?!? Some People Should THINK... BEFORE They Link... Their Words To Things... That Are Clearly STUPID... !!!! So Of Course Some Women... Have Run Their Lips Like SINKING Ships... !!! When It Comes To How... I Break Them Down... DISRESPECT of My TALENT... ?!? When I Choose To CHALLENGE... Their... DOUBLE Standards... !!!!!!!! With Words That RAVAGE... The LIES They... Manage... !!! Has PROVEN To FEED... DISRESPECT Speech... From IGNORANT Peeps’... Who Seem To BELIEVE... That They Really Know Me... ? DISRESPECT For THEM... Are Thoughts That Lend... Themselves To Express... SO MUCH NONSENSE... !?!?! That I Now Call Them... ..... IGNORAMUSES..... !!! So Called... " Friends "... And.... " Acquaintances ".... Should DO THIS LESS... !!! Choose To EXPRESS... A Lot of Talk That’s DEFECTIVE... !!! Because Just Like ME... NOBODY's ABOVE... Being............... .......“ DISRESPECTED “..... !!!!!
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91
A little guilt goes a long way Even the sturdiest oak can be made to sway Figments of people duped by atavistic views Waking up from bouts of fervor A most sadistic snooze They repose like overgrown fountains of youth Their dreams rusted, forgotten and that’s the truth In a lonely forest, oaks fall with the loudest screams A somberness aided by clouds and defective sun beams My soul has finally given in to moralistic cracks For now it’s about as clean as mud pies and tire tracks I’m wobbling down my lifetime from crutch to crutch Wondering when to finally whisper **** I’ve seen too much” So please, return me home, send my spirit way down below To lands of rusted dreams and toss-turned pillows
0
May 23, 2016
May 23, 2016 at 4:23 PM UTC
Flora Diaspora
I hope you will tell me I cannot know your secrets without your words I hope you will tell me Tell me please your thoughts of suicide You might feel scared to tell me When I ask you if you are thinking of suicide I will try to help you feel safe I will not judge you I will not interrogate you I will not panic I will listen gently as you tell your story In your own words in your own way Suicide might tell you not to Suicide might tell you I am your enemy Suicide lies Suicide might tell you that nobody could possibly help you That dying is the only way to end your pain Suicide might tell you that you are a bad person Defective, undeserving of life Or love or hope of compassion Please tell me I cannot help you fight the enemy If you do not tell me about the enemy The enemy that is trying to **** you Do not trust suicide They are not rational They are a symptom a sign a cry for inside Something inside you needs healing Healing not killing Tell me please what suicide tells you Does it tell you everything is wrong with you Suicide plays tricks with truth Hiding the truths that make you want to live The pieces of hope The pathways to healing The possible Tell me, please Tell somebody
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Mar 20, 2019
Mar 20, 2019 at 12:53 PM UTC
tell me
I am the spawn Of a defective ***** And a reluctant egg If there is a God I'm sure he took The utmost care With his needle and thread Because everyone will reap what they sow And all I am is flaws Stitched together With good intentions Because all my life I've only ever had Good intentions And my heart is so full Of love for other people That there is none left for me Let's talk Biology There are over 37 trillion cells in a human body That's ******* amazing And every single cell is working with A common purpose: To keep you alive So knowing that Why do I so often find myself Crying until I fall asleep With thoughts that It would be better If I didn't wake? I also know the brain itself Cannot feel pain So maybe My brain doesn't know What it's doing to itself As wicked thoughts Dance from every synapse Maybe it just has Good intentions Maybe my words could change someone Maybe the letters I stitch so carefully Could have some ounce of an impact on someone And that's all I've ever wanted But my thoughts will remain like hermits Locked in a cage with no key While I continue on with my good intentions Because the road to hell Has always been paved By those with Good intentions
0
Apr 2, 2014
Apr 2, 2014 at 8:34 AM UTC
Good Intentions
You aren’t broken, I am I am flawed I am malfunctioning I am defective, ugly, wrong I am mean, beyond repair Disgustingly bitter, like licking the outside of an orange, Disguised as a tempting delicious throbbing fruit of life. But in reality, I am insufficient, innutritious, A casualty no one wants to carry But I am so afraid that one day you will see This unfixable imperfection that is me And you will leave.
0
Nov 15, 2013
Nov 15, 2013 at 10:54 AM UTC
insecurities
No direction, dressed in distress suppressed by excess of regret expected infection, hard to digest a left mess that's best to forget projected wreck is yet to accept object of the reflected effect where defective breath has wept I rest in the echo of my neglect
0
Jul 19, 2014
Jul 19, 2014 at 12:46 PM UTC
echo of neglect
“Nobody owns life, but anyone who can pick up a frying pan owns death.” – William S. Burroughs Through a door that is not mine that’s left ajar from time to time we see a man with zany eyes scarred-up face, mouth full of lies. Through a window at an ungodly hour the night our neighborhood lost power we see the man pull on a mask and knit the weavings of his task. I should have gotten quite the scare when he pulled that woman by her hair, then tossed her in the hole he’d fill and quickly cover with daffodils, but I’m no stranger to playing detective; his plots have proven rather defective. A call to the cops brings a rap on his door that eventually leads to the lush garden floor. Now, I don’t think I’m deserving of fame my ego is simply much too tame but I have kept dark things from view and you listen well, so I’ll share with you. There is something you should recognize in that man with zany eyes; don’t always believe what you’re told to see, for he who plants the daffodils is me.
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May 17, 2017
May 17, 2017 at 8:56 PM UTC
Ballad of the Daffodils
Get away from me, My evil twin is just around the corner. You see, She's very protective. You need to leave, She is not going to be merciful. You see, She wasn't born this defective. A boy she thought was man Told her she had a pretty face, And she lost her footing on this cliff, Trying to kiss the space bellow his eye and above his cheek.
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Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 5:51 PM UTC
Lying Techniques
Making all the small mistakes, we move on, from one gig to another, with our head up-high, and our ear glued to the railroad track. We walk backwards, surrounded by defective traffic signals and multi-toned car horns – an impersonal Trojan toy horse, with too much space inside our frameless carcass to be filled by an empty soul.
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Feb 19, 2016
Feb 19, 2016 at 9:52 AM UTC
Little by little
Stupid Detective! Mixing up the evidence Loony Detective! Helping the culprit with bad conclusions and your overall confusion Bad detective! your senses are defective it shows! it shows! At the crime scene the vanilla ice creme was fine and yellow like a dandelion though ****** had taken place a stupid detective a messed up place could you please just buck up and find  a trace Lame Detective! You are the one to blame you put Watson to shame Shameful detective! respect this the law the civilians and all their fears Blank minded detective! Heavey minded detective! Blinded detective! falling to sleep like all the other sheeps At the crime scene the vanilla ice creme was fine and yellow like a dandelion though ****** had taken place a stupid detective a messed up place could you please just buck up and find a trace
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Jan 30, 2016
Jan 30, 2016 at 9:03 AM UTC
Stupid Detective
By accepting the terms of this agreement, you represent and warrant that you have the capacity to love. Any similarity to a previous love is circumstantial; this love is not affiliated with other loves. We assume no responsibility for for the shortcomings of prior loves; we do, however, assume all responsibility for any loss, error, or communication failure incurred while in possession of this love. It is, after all, love. Love is available as is; no specific results are promised. If you are at all unhappy, you are encouraged to return love. If you find love to be damaged or defective, well, it's love. Slight imperfections are to be expected, and add to the character of love. Love may occasionally send you poems, letters, or declarations of its continuance. If you wish to opt out of this correspondence, you may cancel your account at any time. The service may be temporarily unavailable from time to time; this may be due to maintenance, or periods of reflection. It in no way implies or forecasts termination of love, unless specifically stated so. By accepting this agreement, you agree not to abuse love by acting in a manner inconsistent with the provisions listed above. (please say yes)
0
Feb 9, 2011
Feb 9, 2011 at 2:19 PM UTC
I have read and agreed to the terms of service
Your rhymes were a bin bag thrown in the trash, couldn't even write a sentence, dyslexia of meaning and ****** up sentences that weren't even spelt write. Couldn't even spin a line, as it was meant to be straight but your words were more wavy than a bad perm. There isn't room for a failed wanna be, alone in your room ************ hard, But your more empty than the raisin ***** your trying to spit out of... Non consequential wording that doesn't flow down stream, more like your floating bloated breath releasing putrid gas that stinks more than what they were belching out. I never insult the cadavers of dead lines, but your words were buried even before you opened that hurse of dead beats. a handful of rhymes that were more powerful than your buried career, sorry you were a foot in the grave even before you opened your mouth. Song I wrote after I used your girl.. I wasn't the one she wanted it was you, but I gave her what she wanted and that never included you.. Every thing you wanted I stole, and gave her fake wishes that were tarnished but she never looked beyond the moment seeing the stitching of us was more fake than the smiles I gave her. I knew she wanted to be with you, but I was the salesman of woman.. While you were the boy next door, I was the salesmen showing her fake dreams.. Don't worry you can have her after I've used her enough, I'll even trade her in for a good price.. Ye, she'll be broken.. But everything is always defective after I've rode it enough... Her crown maybe cracked, but she'll be yours even though she'll be thinking of me even though your in her, I'm the length she'll remember but she'll be your crack queen. Now this is enough of wording. and I'm moving on to the next one.
0
Mar 27, 2020
Mar 27, 2020 at 7:43 PM UTC
You Never Worded Anything Right..
Your rhymes were a bin bag thrown in the trash, couldn't even write a sentence, dyslexia of meaning and ****** up sentences that weren't even spelt write. Couldn't even spin a line, as it was meant to be straight but your words were more wavy than a bad perm. There isn't room for a failed wanna be, alone in your room ************ hard, But your more empty than the raisin ***** your trying to spit out of... Non consequential wording that doesn't flow down stream, more like your floating bloated breath releasing putrid gas that stinks more than what they were belching out. I never insult the cadavers of dead lines, but your words were buried even before you opened that hurse of dead beats. a handful of rhymes that were more powerful than your buried career, sorry you were a foot in the grave even before you opened your mouth. Song I wrote after I used your girl.. I wasn't the one she wanted it was you, but I gave her what she wanted and that never included you.. Every thing you wanted I stole, and gave her fake wishes that were tarnished but she never looked beyond the moment seeing the stitching of us was more fake than the smiles I gave her. I knew she wanted to be with you, but I was the salesman of woman.. While you were the boy next door, I was the salesmen showing her fake dreams.. Don't worry you can have her after I've used her enough, I'll even trade her in for a good price.. Ye, she'll be broken.. But everything is always defective after I've rode it enough... Her crown maybe cracked, but she'll be yours even though she'll be thinking of me even though your in her, I'm the length she'll remember but she'll be your crack queen. Now this is enough of wording. and I'm moving on to the next one.
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50
Upon waking yesterday morn, the temperature was 8 degrees; cancellation of events and slippery icy roads, disliking winter! T'was out driving and dealing with the limited visibility; freezing. Wasn't fun maneuvering usually two lane streets; turned one. I'm sitting here wide awake and staring at ice crystal windows, went to bed last night, temperature was frigid sub zero; No joke! The furnace had a busy night keeping this old drafty house warm. My cute little budgie who "was" chirping, is now sleeping on perch.   Giving a memory of yesterday brief thought and still find it funny. Went shopping after losing the debate of exiting a warm vehicle. Over heard a conversation regarding me, based on the "assumed". The two ladies(without a doubt) read what's posted on net sites. Standing in the next aisle, ears slightly alert, hearing my full name.   Should I walk up to say, "hello!" or tell them to mind own business? Found it amusing and a bit flattering, despite negative words used. Did they see me enter the store or did they even care that I heard? If I were indeed the "rumored" witch, I'd melt every inch of snow. Why did these villagers "presume" I'm holder of necromancer's card? Defective reasoning of me practicing "voodoo" and casting many spells. A bit of food for thought; It's one-dimensional and illogical thinking.
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Jan 7, 2014
Jan 7, 2014 at 3:53 AM UTC
Too cold for polar bears?
I am ugly. Maybe not in the way the human race perceives the word, but in the way I perceive the word. I am ugly, whether that is in the way I smile, look, dress or the way I see the world. Maybe, life isn’t about seeing the yourself as beautiful; maybe it’s about seeing yourself as ugly, as dull, as plain, as unappealing as it is and still, above all of that, loving everything ugly, dull, plain and unappealing. I don’t mind being ugly, because ugly is what I want to be. You hear someone say the word ugly and you think negatively. Ugly, in my mind, is even better than beautiful. Everything has beauty, but only real things have flaws. Being ugly is not about being unappealing to the eye, but being appealing to the heart. I embrace the fact that I am and always will be ugly. I like it that way. I am full of flaws. I have crawled my way out of hell and got a little banged up along the way, whether that is what someone means by the word ugly I am okay with that. I am banged up. I am flawed. I am imperfect, defective, faulty, distorted, inaccurate, incorrect, erroneous, imprecise, fallacious and most of all ugly. The most shocking part of all of this is that, you are too.
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Aug 18, 2015
Aug 18, 2015 at 1:57 PM UTC
I am ugly
The light quit working in the jukebox, the melodies' surrender, a commonplace extinction, against the salt and the breeze of your false Mediterranean. The burden of your rational soul in a world of extremes has torn your spirit to tatters- tatters littered across your Toronto abode. Divided amongst the heirlooms and emptied bottles. This desolation you sought to translate for the harmonious pulse of the dial tone. Hazy, is this ancient mind, a smoking fallout of yesterday's parties to be discussed over lukewarm coffee and cigarette butts, while the shivering streams and green plains become commodified for a higher power. Dan, my dearest friend, I loved you ferocious and freely, fanged and supremely, and as your mind coagulated on a couch, microphone in-hand, I felt nostalgic for your clumsy alcoholism, and clumsier guitar strumming. The white fog descends, the city is hungry-- no longer can it expand. Toronto eats itself with you inside, shall I write you a postcard? Shall I kick down your door? Shall I let you join the bones you so beautifully alluded to? Whisper, my friend, amidst the soft croon of the saxophone, whisper, my friend, of a Europe gone defective, whisper, my friend, for an apocalypse of sun to release us all from the white fog slowly burying our Toronto.
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Feb 9, 2011
Feb 9, 2011 at 7:18 PM UTC
Toronto Hawk (for Dan Bejar)
i'm a nomad gone defective, heart attack erased, amended. i'm a dead leaf riding the crest of the wind, marking time by exs and favorite beverages. i carry on the bluebird's song, whisper nothings aside from sweet. you planted me within your sheets, green grow the leaves, winter, good luck with your war. let needle perpetually lock in groove, white wine nights that turn into levitating sunrises.
0
Nov 22, 2010
Nov 22, 2010 at 10:07 AM UTC
The Bluebirds, Deserters, and We