"dehydrated" poems
Alila syang sakal
Tila nasa hawlang nasa labas ng sinapupunan
Naghihikahos sya
Humihingi ng tulong.
Tinawag ko si Tatay
Pagkat ako'y manikin
Wala sa ulirat
Habang sya'y nasa piit ni Kamatayan.
Pilit syang pumipiglas
Sa pira-pirasong tabla
Nakaririndi ang tinig
Hindi marunong kumalma.
Tayo'y nilalang na may isip
May katinuan
Hindi kailangang pumiglas
At panay ang laban.
Minsan, kahinaa'y malalasap
Ba't hindi huminto?
Hindi ito pagsuko, kaibigan
Ito'y paghihintay
Paghihithit ng lakas
Na kahit saglit
Ang buhay ay mahingahang muli.
Jul 10, 2014
Jul 10, 2014 at 11:07 AM UTC
Dehydrated skin, like leather
You being here doesn't make it better
Forehead against forehead
I feel my temperature rise
You make me sick to my stomach
Dear -
Darling -
My little stomach bug
Mar 3, 2016
Mar 3, 2016 at 3:32 PM UTC
He gave me dead flowers
So I can smell them every day
The rotten petals falling
The color of decay
The washed out sunflower
The dehydrated leaves
The mold on the water
The color of debris
The richly red rose
Now drooping to the floor
The color of love
Existed no more
But still I saved the flowers
And smelled them every day
And watered them with tears
To let them grow again.
Sep 9, 2019
Sep 9, 2019 at 11:36 AM UTC
Children born with *** is the most sadest thing in life. Everyday there is a child born with *** The reason for this is because adults and children are ***** each and every day. By the curel careless people in this world. Kids are sent off to oprphanges in some parts in Africa where honestly is better then some other places in Africa. Thats not it though the ones that are not in oprphanges are at risk each and everyday for there lifes. Not only for this disease but for the curlest people that will **** them for basically no reason because they dont have freedom like we do. Why treat children this way period but why treat them especially if they have limited time in life. They dont get to see and experience what we get to see and experience because we have the freedom. Each and everyday children in Africa risk there lifes to go to school most of them don't survive because once again the cruel poeple in this world **** them. Unlike we get to go to school for free and have freedom. We get to have the oppertunity to have an education. When they are not even given a chioce. The kids that are not in a orphanage are slaves they get torchered they get wipped they even are forced to see there parents wipped, ***** and murdered. They dont have choices at all for there life the chioces are made for them. Barely any water to drink or even food to eat. Children in Africa die each and everyday either from ****** starvation, dehydration or there disease. We act so ungreatfully to people in our lives we should be ashamed. When poeple in Africa don't have parents or if they do they dont get to see unless seeing them be torchured. I am thankful for everything I have and the freedom I have. Learning about this in school was intrestingly horrifying because of what these people do to these children and there parents or to people in general. They dont get *** from chioce of *** or born with it or lack of condoms they are forced with this horrible disease that is life killing and that most likely turnes into AIDS. With out any medical or lack of medical attention the poeple with disease are left to die. With people torchering them by watching and ****** them each and every day. It makes me furious to know that there are children human beings out there that are being torchured, ***** murdered, starved and dehydrated each and everyday of life. This is the life to the day they are born untill the day they die. After reading this think really hard about your life and the things and people in your life is life really hard for you is it that painful is it that horrifying. Put yourself in there shoes would you like seeing your parents child or sibling get ***** murdered or even wipped each and everyday. going without food or water or having barely food or water. For me after writing this and learning it my whole life is heaven compared to them. I have everything they don't and better and I am not even close to being as greatful as I should. Think about this and this is so very true this is there lives each and everyday for the children and adults that are slaves that have HIV/AIDS in Africa.
Feb 3, 2011
Feb 3, 2011 at 10:35 AM UTC
Though the first carried more miles, the second day of the hike was totally and unapologetically uphill.
When you ascend, hiking becomes the zen of endurance.
First, you are stripped of all the pleasures of hiking. Your excitement is boiled into lactic acid. Your love for the trail is baked, hardened and dehydrated into thoughts of laying down in the sun until the heat shrivels you into an unconscious raisin.
Try as you may to put on your “isn’t hiking just a slice of heaven?” face, strangers passing you on the downhill stride can only see your “PLEASE GOD, HELP ME OR ******* **** ME” face.
As much as hiking really is a small slice of heaven, there is no denying the living-death of taking 10 straight miles to the knees under the chaffing hell of a 50 pound sack in the relentless sun.
But when you’re back in an office, sitting on your cushy little ergonomic chair, you long for the sweat and the torture that forces your mind to the ankle deathtraps of mountain terrain. To the deep valley behind and below you, and the crystal basin at the foot of the granite Giants.
The worst thing you can do is ignore the pain—that makes it relentless. Instead you focus on the pain until you become it. The only thing left is the moment between each step, when you remember why you are here and what it is worth. Every time your foot touches dirt, it leaves twice the footprint. One on the mountain and another in your memory where you will safeguard the misery of your ascent and hold on for dear life. One day, when your knees are too weak and your body can no longer table your pack, all the pleasures and joys of the trail that you once thought dissipated in the steam of uphill toil will come rushing back with the magnified strength of every year between you and the present you once knew and respected enough to actually live.
And if you didn’t, if you let it only be pain to get through and not to focus or dwell on, then that is what it is and will always be. A dull memory of pain, dark and somber and incomplete.
Sep 23, 2015
Sep 23, 2015 at 2:41 PM UTC
I’m working to unwrap you slowly
To form you up like a theory
To create a habitat for you in my head
My steps grow wider when I see you at the end
Lying, lounging, an old lion
Afternoon sun low and tired
Rays and shadows streak the road like enveloping arms
As I grow closer, you project even further away
I just long to reach you
Rest my head against your ***** and
Sleep against your softness like a pile of feathers
To rest at last.
But at times I think I’ll never reach you,
As I approach you reflect even further away
I wonder that this road is endless, thinning into the distance
The black wires radiate into the air above me
Mutating my simple DNA into something else entirely
A sole purpose survivor, a solider
The cause is more desperate now
They’re buzzing to each other above my head, talking about me
Their scrutiny banging between my ears
The dust becomes a new layer of me, with incredible thirst
Just fields of dehydrated dandelions, just nothing
They soak up the liquid from everything
With their chemical and electrical waves
The fields are screeching as they shrivel up, like dying children
Now it’s all yellow, beige, and far away
It’s all so tiny against the horizon,
For all I know, your silhouette has become a statue by now
Just this long stripe of dirt I treat like a passageway
Just a ladder to a final place of rest
I’m desperate for a stop in my trudging motion
But I know I can’t lie down in this unworthy sand.
Dec 4, 2012
Dec 4, 2012 at 5:52 PM UTC
That week
nearly a year ago
When we didnt speak
Each day
Disappointment in your son
Took you past the point of tears to
Pure avoidance
Of eye contact, speech,
And everything in between
Unable to look at me
Without steady streams
Cascading down your face
I thought i had hurt you beyond forgiveness
And that week I learned what it would be like to live without you
If only you knew the hurt
I went though
Having caused pain so deep
You couldnt even speek to me
Feeling your
Forgiveness, your love
Was like being pardoned of a life
Sentence
Like being led to the light
Out of darkness
Like I was a dehydrated desert wanderer
You were my water
You quenched my thirst
You loved me first
And I love you in return
Oct 4, 2015
Oct 4, 2015 at 12:40 AM UTC
We’d sit on the back porch
On the Fourth of July
Spitting watermelon seeds
Into the tall grass,
Which glimmered in the midday sun.
The competition of who could spit the farthest
Never really with a winner,
It was mostly about the feeling of the sun,
Glimmering on our pudgy cheeks,
And the opportunity to abandon our napkins,
Letting that cool watery juice spill
Down our white shirts, leaving pink stains
And permanent reminders of summer
Of course a tattoo is only as permanent
As the body that wears it:
I outgrew the shirts around the same time
As the world outgrew those little black seeds
This year on the Fourth of July
We sat inside making small talk
Because there weren’t any black seeds
In the watermelon we ate:
Just dehydrated flesh, the color a little
Farther from pink and closer
To the off-white color of those flakey little seeds,
Which were miraculously allowed to remain
Jan 1, 2014
Jan 1, 2014 at 6:07 PM UTC
*The two felt a chemical attraction.
Serotonin leaked onto his uncovered skin.
He couldn't speak, his tongue dried, dehydrated by her heat.
**** those eyes were like Kryptonite, He had pride in himself for being a statue.
Smooth as a razor blade he came out of that conversation dull.
The wrong impression was given since he had handed her rotten flowers.
Give me a second to recollect my thoughts and bring them back from the stunned blackout, wow, you are such a powerful knockout.
I'm fixing my posture and choosing my words right.
Our symbols are well matched and I'm not talking astrology, I'm talking chemistry.
Two different colors mixed together makes her blush and makes me crush.*
Sep 15, 2014
Sep 15, 2014 at 10:49 PM UTC
I saw you swimming
in my teacup
I sipped and tasted
so much bitterness
in this teabag,
Pieces of my heart
crushed and dehydrated
As I hear the raindrops
continue to dance
in the same puddles
they created
Promises that we have broken
I have to add sugar
and a little bit of tear
In my cup of tea,
I saw you floating
I took a teaspoon
and shove you deeper
into a whirlpool
that reminded me
how much
I was a fool
for you,
I have to finish it all
Lined my throat
in bittersweet guilt
Swallowed them all
and ah!
a sigh of relief
I must be dreaming
-Tea, Margaret Austin Go
Jan 16, 2015
Jan 16, 2015 at 6:26 PM UTC
My mushroom was watered by your juices
fertilised the head grew in your dampness.
the seedling grew in anticipation, would it
seed in needed spaces or would it be launched
to the gravity of its surroundings and fall cold.
Could this eclipse of growth be sustained, or
in the throws of becoming dehydrated in the
over gratification of over consumption wither
in needed times and never reach its potential of
what was needed. But become withered in momentary
over indulgence and go limp in the field of warmth..
This once proud mushroom ever reaching new heights,
Its stalk standing once tall but now faltering and lying
motionless where once it stood tall. that warm space
waiting, wanting its seeds to flourish in this damp
place. Know all but dried up, waiting for another flourishing
head to seed its dampness where the other fell silently limp.
Mar 27, 2016
Mar 27, 2016 at 6:26 PM UTC
She is like water running through the valley
drifting through the rocks
the rocks make unable to move
unable to grow
unable to flow
Takes away her ability to contribute,
but,
Water is meant to flow to the Ocean,
Not to be contaminated,
By the pollution of your opinion.
She is like water
surrounded by things still finds ways
crashing every barrier comes in her way
She want to rehydrate the minds,
That have been compressed,
That have been dehydrated,
She want to refresh the dry ideology.
She'll nurture the barren land of old thoughts .
Jun 25, 2021
Jun 25, 2021 at 10:01 PM UTC
I may never truly learn how to love this chest of mine, but I am sure that I could learn how to love what is buried inside of it.
I cannot draw on the moon... Cannot let my admiration literally shine down onto you, through the darkness. The moon is a poem within itself, but even the celestial beauty of that planet could not compare to the music that is your smile.
If I were to speak with a passion as warm and as slow as this, I assure you that you would listen... You would believe me. I would rather not deceive them, but it depends on how they perceive me, versus how I perceive my-definite-self.
Because I may be who they know me to be, but that does not make me what they presume me to be.
So call me strange, call me queer... Just know that you can call me any time and I will still be here, for you. I will not disappoint, nor shall I ever disappear, from you.
Because my heart is a compass and I am more than willing to travel all the way to 'Destination: You'. What an exciting journey! Alas, I can only go so far before feeling dehydrated... Yet I shall go on, for I have faith that you, of all oceans, will have the power to quench my thirst.
You are my seven seas, my poetry... My music, my long-lost lullaby... But you are more than just a masterpiece, darling. You are my sense of direction, for you are not only my art, but my heart... And you cannot help but stop beating, when I hear even so much as your greeting.
You wonder why... Ha. Je t'aime, ma chère, je t'aime... À bientôt, ma chère. I have not found you yet, but I am getting there.
Feb 12, 2015
Feb 12, 2015 at 4:06 PM UTC
You make me so stressed out,
I feel like the strings are about to snap.
And sometimes I wish they would
so I can walk away and never look back.
I just want to be free
like these words whenever I write them down.
I've stressed myself out
all just to make you proud.
Proud enough to call me yours.
Proud enough to accept you're mine.
Proud enough for you to not come home
smelling like another mans cologne half past nine.
I'm so stressed out
I've become dehydrated from these tears.
The scars you engraved in me
will stay visible for years.
I'm so stressed out because you've broken
what I've tried to so hard to rebuild.
I never thought death would be better
than the pain I currently feel
Jul 7, 2016
Jul 7, 2016 at 3:40 PM UTC
Hungry for love, I was so hungry for love.
I am festering from my own greed, ravenous love.
Poor guy, he was a victim to this love hungry savage.
I attacked him with my love, pushed him so far away.
I’m not meant to be loved, no not meant for anybody.
He loved me, he actually loved me.
Yet I did not know how to love him back.
I wish he understood, and I wish I could have told him.
I’m not meant to be loved, NO ,should not be loved by him.
Stupid girl, so very stupid girl, and girl you are very much stupid.
Stepped all over his heart, unworthy of his love, so ungrateful.
My past hurt leaked into my present, unwanted, not wanted.
I felt like he was going to hurt me, hurt me, hurt me, I’m hurt.
I’m not meant to be loved, no not meant to be loved by any.
I am loves enemy, oh how love hates my bitter soul, my cold heart.
Let me in, I wont let love in, it knocks its knocking, I slam I slam.
Love wants to **** me, but I’m already dead, and now love buries me.
Here I lay; I’ve lost a heart, that beating muscle which enables me to breathe.
I gave him my heart, yet it lacked love, he didn’t feel, he didn’t know it beats.
I’m not meant to be loved, no no no not meant to be loved at all.
I love him, oh God how I love him, like you love us God.
But how do I love him, how do I show, how can I show?
I had, I have a Purple undeveloped, bloodless, loveless heart.
He pumped his blood into me; he drowned me in his love.
I tried to pump back, only a leak, over the years it drained out.
So what’s left for him, what did he get, a heart that’s dehydrated.
I’m not meant to be loved; no not meant because of me.
Here I am, sick with agony, dripping in pain.
Too late, its too late, how he hates me, me he hates, he hates.
How he tried, hard he tried, tried to fix a broken glass and got cut.
He’s bleeding now, I want to stop his pain, but the more I touch the more he bleeds.
I didn’t mean to God, I pray take his pain away, let him forget me.
Take the love he has for me out of his heart, let him drop mine, just leave it on the floor.
Let the herd demolish it completely this time so I cannot feel anymore hurt.
I never should have allowed him to grow near, but I loved him more than me.
I thought I was showing my love, I really tried, oh how I tried.
I’m not meant to be loved; I never was, never meant to be loved.
Never meant to be loved by anybody, never meant to be loved by him.
I'm not meant to be loved by you!
Mar 5, 2013
Mar 5, 2013 at 1:28 PM UTC
the child recieves his paper
****** backward by the one in front
flip the three pages flippantly
one : intimidating . . two : boring
the third adorned unexpectedly
a longer -than seems can be usually- grown hair with a clump of green root
sprung out and slaughtered, down across the width; stuck above the questions beneath
how could he not have seen?
a pile so viscous and obscene?
does everyone else have one???
are they holding their disgust beneath?
he looked up at the teacher.
A look of vigilance his face bequeathed.
B ut now it sprung out almost pus like
a faint smile,
a teachers calm reprieve
he then leaned back on his chair in comfort
drooping his head back
his nostrils flared now toward the child
the hairs brustling from inside, all locked up in a ***** days remnants
all foul
and long
and dehydrated
like a swamp now sunned crisp; reeds on a stale bank
drawn in he felt uneasy
unable to cease to stare
incased inside the world that spawned
in the swamp that lay up there
in the cavernous orifices there
then he saw the teachers eyes, his gaze it
stuck on him, the teacher began to grin
further back his head leant
his eyes jaundiced
his teeth tanned
his face pale
his grin outstretched and thin
Oct 17, 2013
Oct 17, 2013 at 6:38 AM UTC
Wastelands of dry parched nothingness
Forced pursuit of pale mirages filled with life
Wavering brinks of relief in the scorching heat
Washed away life of golden liquid
Dehydrated stumbles in the dreaming darkness
Faded taste of malicious lies
Water in feverous dreams
Dried up mouth in waking sleep
cc071211
Feb 22, 2012
Feb 22, 2012 at 9:13 PM UTC
I will tie you up
and torture you,
in all the best ways.
It could last hours,
possibly even daze.
I will leave you dehydrated,
aching,
sticky,
and sore.
I will leave you physically unable to say you want more.
It will be too hard,
too soft,
j u s t right,
not enough,
tease tease choke bite spit gag pull s q u e e z e.
Lie back, if you please.
Jul 3, 2018
Jul 3, 2018 at 1:30 AM UTC
The blaze of the sun cut through their flesh
Sun kissed sweaty skin and dehydrated lungs
Knelled and cried for mercy
The heavens answered their prayers
Loud thuds were heard like a roaring lion
Lightning struck like a shooting star
Their quench was put off
Soil's aroma spread; it rained.
Jul 2, 2014
Jul 2, 2014 at 3:44 PM UTC
it's all occupied with dark fumes of flatulence
the bus hanger
it's teething and earning a low ceilinged thrive
regularly cleaned the roof portal
with a large drooping eye
brags of blue sky
the coaches are idling
fretful to be burdened and go
elsewhere
the public urinals
there's a strong smell of iron
are the morning users dehydrated
malnourished or ill ?
i feel a little flated
elsewhere
in the waiting area
a neatly turned out teen
wants to give their seat to the infirm
does not and hurts inside averting
(a public act of courtesy
would after all be an embarrassing one)
attention back to the importance
my friend has ungreeted me
i have wished him ease
and he has passed between the cordons
amongst amiable cattle
he pauses at the authorities verification
who in turn
tails them to load up their luggage
and become their driver
- goodbye my friend
Feb 7, 2024
Feb 7, 2024 at 5:57 PM UTC
sitting across from you in this quiet library
while we do homework,
i look at you and wonder-
how did i get so lucky to be loved by you?
6 months ago you asked me out.
6 months of pure happiness and love,
6 months of never once questioning if you do love me,
only knowing that you do.
and now, we look forward to the rest of our lives,
together.
loving someone has never been easier,
it's like second nature,
as simple and innate as breathing.
your fluffy brown curls,
stunning hazel eyes,
and adorable silver and navy glasses;
unparalleled intelligence,
kindness, goofiness, dorkiness,
lovability- my golden retriever boy.
you always take care of me,
especially when my adhd and anxiety get bad,
and i always take care of you,
especially when you're tired and dehydrated.
i love you
Apr 25, 2022
Apr 25, 2022 at 11:08 PM UTC
Today I saw a frog, dried up from the heat
close by I saw another, cracked upon the street
I counted thirty four in all, mummified and dry
Fifty feet from a dried out pond, I took some time to cry
The pond was once so vibrant, full of turtles and of frogs
But with the drought now here, you could count all of the logs
A stench so strong, it burned your eyes, if you chose to get near
Decomposing life, is all that's left, the pond is dead I fear
The pond, another victim of the crippling, hellish heat
Without the rain, it is just a monster we can't beat
The farmers put a spin on, give a positive sort of line
While they have to put their livestock down, their harvest die-ing on the vine
The fields are bare, the ground is dust, no life from it will come
You see the farmers trying everything, while we just stand there numb
Fans are running in the barns to keep the livestock cool
But the heat, it just gets stronger, you can't even use the pools
You could say they've dropped the middle man, as they grow dehydrated meals
The kiddie park and water park, have no water for their seals
You see the livestock out in the fields, looking for some grass to munch on
But, with the heat taking it all away, their field of grass has now gone
The cows, no longer vibrant, a leather coat on skin and bones
The farmers losing money, they're defaulting on their loans
The barnyards running empty, you can't even see a turkey
The cows themselves are so dried up, that the butcher calls them jerky
A break might come, the tv said, with a cold front moving through
But the grounds too hard to take the rain, what extra damage will it do?
The end result is prices will go up on all we eat
It's this ********* global warming, the creator of this heat
Look around at where you live, go and check your ponds and streams
Take note if they are die-ing, this is real, not in your dreams
Take action where it's needed, conserve water where you can
This is not a local problem, it affects the whole **** land
I saw a frog this morning...he was dead...it made me cry.......
Jul 19, 2012
Jul 19, 2012 at 9:34 AM UTC
drunken dreams amaze me
I dreamt I was drowning
swallowing enough water
to sink a ship
but woke up dehydrated
I dreamt I fell asleep next to you
your hand softly on my hip
but woke up
missing you more than I have in months
Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 10:49 PM UTC
When I first saw her, she was like an enemy infront of my eyes,
As I kept growing in her presence and understanding her,she became my obsession,
For I grew old in love and young in hatred,
For she became my source of life,
Like the freshness of the ocean she purely remained in my thoughts,
For I without her I am purely dehydrated,
For at night she becomes my own vission and at daylight she becomes my ambition,
For she became my need of life and love,
For she is truely my determination of love..
Apr 11, 2015
Apr 11, 2015 at 8:36 AM UTC
addicted
turning on you
you’re more toxic
than ******
scroll fluid
in my veins
you're dangerous
a sweet poison
harmful to my health
I fill myself with you
of your essence
every fiber of me
wants to feel you
your voice
your words
your smell
your hands
your mouth
light me up
and raise me
to dizzying heights
and they throw with me
in adrenalin
descents
that leave me breathless
you’re never enough
darkness takes you away
and I’m in withdrawal symptoms
you’re hot oil
in my veins
burn
my nervous system
my heart
is covered with pus
a thin and unquenchable
itchy
crawls under my skin
my brain cells
seeking frantic
satisfaction
in wrinkles of memory
dig every corner
crave a drop of you
forgotten on the bottom
of an empty bottle
you’re toxic
abstinence
doesn’t give me peace
I’m alienated in a whirl
of strobe lights
sweat
dehydrated
confused
find me
take me
save me
Jul 12, 2016
Jul 12, 2016 at 11:12 AM UTC