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"dithers" poems
am I awake dreaming that I am asleep or perhaps asleep dreaming that I am awake yet I do dream. I dream of Brazil where antique rages like great storms announce themselves with a small breeze that stands against rust in mighty waves and stares at the bleak mid winter eyes of oppression and by crimson haste, dithers in despair and watches the pages that unleash such rages become the cobalt colour of tombstones who ***** themselves behind the eyes in dramatic stages yet is the announcement of all these historic rages that are outrageous placed upon blank pages that butchers compassion which is almost infinitesimally brief yet so poignant and dislocating has a momentarily almost faint identity that singles indefinable loss that is expressed in all known language and splinters the mind into dark deep waters that the only thing that can be trusted is this moment, this moment is the realisation, so powerful that one cannot do otherwise but confront it and in so doing feel the immense vibration of change
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Jun 22, 2013
Jun 22, 2013 at 11:45 AM UTC
A Dream of Brazil
time governs you and me treat it not irreverently chance the unknown while you can sands of time pause for no woman nor man one and all quick sticks the time piece it ticks it ticks dithers and dawdlers hear the alarm wasted days do each of us irreversible harm of the calendar year we are sure but moments in time are pending trapdoors make every venture your stock in trade lest time render us uncertain and afraid in reality rosters and agendas do vary devilish time oft wickedly contrary speed up Jack and Jill sundials are on a roll time is indiscriminate exacting a costly toll governor time is carefully deliberating our pendulums remonstrating
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Jan 11, 2014
Jan 11, 2014 at 9:08 PM UTC
Time
The dark clouds linger in the sky. The rain is about to cry. The fate has been written. The worst is yet to be smitten. The sun has set in the west. Darkness has worn its dress. So here am I standing alone in the dark Waiting for the destiny to bark. I wait. I shiver. My mind quivers. My soul dithers. I sit alone and hold. Smiling, I retire back. Because I’ve realised Darkness is my destiny. Darkness is my life. I belong here. -Khushi :)
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Mar 3, 2018
Mar 3, 2018 at 12:29 AM UTC
Darkness engulfs me
I cannot hear. Sound has lost its crispness. Articulated consonants have merged into blurred murmurings. The loss was not sudden. No cataclysmic happening but rather a gentle deterioration of a faculty, once taken for granted. Normal conversation, once a joy, has become a struggle. Repartee, chit chat, a little banter is no more. The quality of sound once reverberated and filled spaces; now I have no spaces – just tinnitus, constantly grinding away. To be sightless is to be aware, with other senses sharpened; but deafness leads to introspection, loneliness and deep despair. The half blind wear their glasses and look so very wise. The deaf man, with his hearing aid, dithers. I should know. ~
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Dec 30, 2010
Dec 30, 2010 at 6:00 AM UTC
I'm Going Deaf
I have hidden incognito a decade in this desert,   enscounced in the Bad Lands of a wasted life,   evading both politics and the Bureau of Statistics,   immersed in maths for senseless games of chance. I forget promises and birthdays with equal disregard,   attempt mental reconstructions of past events,   seeking the forgiveness I have no power to grant,   all my atoms expanding heirlooms of critical mass. The gravitational attraction of lifelong friendships,   dithers perception at the horizon of a span of years,   warping the wormhole space between our arms, our minds.   I need only for you to ask that I should stay.
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Feb 27, 2012
Feb 27, 2012 at 11:31 AM UTC
Could've Tripped Out Easy
Gumbo the sprat reminds  you he has no place to go, away from the night shoals swimming mid stream, he dithers if the pier should burn down, could he bear if the anglers drowned? yet he's not too axiomatic knowing right from wrong. but again theres no pretense only a presence swallowing this illusion of depth.
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Feb 27, 2014
Feb 27, 2014 at 3:36 PM UTC
The shallowness of depth.
Which way do you fold me? Sometimes, the love is strong, and it holds me up, and gets me in and gets me out. Sometimes, the love is present, it runs through the room, it flows through the days. Sometimes, the love is gone, it leaves empty rooms it comes in unfinished sentences. Why does it have to be like that? Why can't things be normal? Not pretending, not faking. But maybe some changing, it would be good. This cursive is writing on the wall, This fluent is in languages I can't understand. Sometimes it seems you need a walk in closet. To hang your skeletons in. But once you hang them, Leave them. Leave them for me, Leave them for you, I dont care how you do it, Just leave the closet closed forever. Baby Once in a Blue, You make me sad. Yet that sad sometimes spells, Sad is a long word, And it means things, some of us Don't know how to explain. So, lets try one more time, Another round, for the couple of the year. Dithers, and high high Hithers, they may come and go, For all I know, I'll be where you are.
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Oct 31, 2013
Oct 31, 2013 at 12:05 AM UTC
Origami Crane.
Her hands are freezing Her soul is shaking Is it because it's so cold Or that racing heart that unfolds The tension gets thicker She nervously dithers Is this really happening As snowflakes start falling He takes her lips They kiss so deep Under the lamplight Lovers steal the spotlight Wrapped in tight embrace His caress is her fireplace Under the burning glow At temperature below zero An eternal moment right there All dissolves into thin air She doesn't notice time just flew He is her dream come true They're kissing in the snow He melts into her shadow She gives her heart of gold Love's a flame in the cold.
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Mar 9, 2012
Mar 9, 2012 at 5:23 PM UTC
Kissing in the snow
when the quiet is the whisper gingerly wring the neck of ravens, to sleep deeper. split the infinity. give heartache a farthing of your coin, realm-less spinning in the dithers of your lingering agenda helpless. loom oodles of shear joy, dis-attached from farms of promise a reckless keening in the dreary gloom of a perfect day. and caramel apple car-bombs for Halloween.
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Oct 14, 2011
Oct 14, 2011 at 11:39 PM UTC
How To Pollinate a Ghost
She lay still Yielding, yearning Her soft skin Like spring It glows It calls It pleads In a lonely mime Ivory sheets Once white Demanding warmth Deep longing Serenading Like a dry land Waiting I watch I feel I crave Savage desire Pulsating like anger Like a storm Like destruction Insanity I watch I listen Her heart commanding With heat With passion Unpararelled Obsession She undresses Reveals Her soul I bare Uncover Unclothed Soul To soul I touch I roam Like a traveler Amazed Uncovering Nurturing I worship She welcomes Permitting She succumbs Her becoming She savors Rippling Skin To Skin I reach Intruding Wanting More Like hunger Like pain Suffocating She gives She offers She opens Like a slave To her Queen Like a Queen To her Goddess Heaven I receive Tolerating I devour Consuming Mouth To her being Maddening She dithers She quivers Like a serpent She slithers She takes Moaning Damp Begging I feast I swallow I ****** I follow I lick I **** I flick I **** We bare We share Skin To skin Soul To soul Body entwined Like Honeysuckle Divine © 2012 Maryanne M
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Jan 8, 2013
Jan 8, 2013 at 9:27 PM UTC
Clandestine
I if I yelled into a walkie talkie, would you melt, or burn, blaring noise glaring sun, glaze the windows, someone!                  II fade away and radiate, move the people dis-populate, we may all glow, there are leaks, they know, but that is not all they are going to build an icy wall to STOP thoseleaksnow, some one strong willed                                       is taking charge of those positive and negatives                                                                                keep an i on atom, physically speaking.          III shake, shake roll the water shake shake roll the dice shake shake what happens in the kitchen where it is hot and you bang plates together the do break, explosively this time, no tsunami, so sue me but it was a six point one when we get a nine what then?            IV they have politics, they have unrest, they have strife, put the ad in the paper, some one misunderstood, vehement denials, sabres rattling cementing bad relations blame the propagandist bad formula blame the chemist bad politics cost elections bad people take lives that are not theirs to erase, displace or otherwise disgrace, I know we will never know what has gone on, but it really comes down to ONE, all it takes is one to die, and it - whatever the point is is wrong, all it takes is a million refugees, not one in power will listen if we say   STOP                    please, think of the creative talent who have died, think of the number of times you have lied, think of the geniuses unable to breath through their face, oh wait, if you did think, in the first place, you still would have done it anyway, because that is who you are, makin' people wear sarin, eau de ... deathly                                                 silence is a grave filled with the cries                                                 of the innocents                                                 chaos is a grave filled with violent                                                 death with intent                                                 lashing out first and with such force                                                 is a grave filled with numbers of                                                 the lost, who now are no more                                                 the cost is too dear to bear                                                 except with sadness, and mourning                                                 but there is no time there is danger                                                                                         and warring                                                                                                             while the world dithers uncertain, close the blinds draw the curtain, cover your ears, we are doing something here, umm, there.
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Sep 4, 2013
Sep 4, 2013 at 12:46 AM UTC
Poetry in the News in four parts
I if I yelled into a walkie talkie, would you melt, or burn, blaring noise glaring sun, glaze the windows, someone!                  II fade away and radiate, move the people dis-populate, we may all glow, there are leaks, they know, but that is not all they are going to build an icy wall to STOP thoseleaksnow, some one strong willed                                       is taking charge of those positive and negatives                                                                                keep an i on atom, physically speaking.          III shake, shake roll the water shake shake roll the dice shake shake what happens in the kitchen where it is hot and you bang plates together the do break, explosively this time, no tsunami, so sue me but it was a six point one when we get a nine what then?            IV they have politics, they have unrest, they have strife, put the ad in the paper, some one misunderstood, vehement denials, sabres rattling cementing bad relations blame the propagandist bad formula blame the chemist bad politics cost elections bad people take lives that are not theirs to erase, displace or otherwise disgrace, I know we will never know what has gone on, but it really comes down to ONE, all it takes is one to die, and it - whatever the point is is wrong, all it takes is a million refugees, not one in power will listen if we say   STOP                    please, think of the creative talent who have died, think of the number of times you have lied, think of the geniuses unable to breath through their face, oh wait, if you did think, in the first place, you still would have done it anyway, because that is who you are, makin' people wear sarin, eau de ... deathly                                                 silence is a grave filled with the cries                                                 of the innocents                                                 chaos is a grave filled with violent                                                 death with intent                                                 lashing out first and with such force                                                 is a grave filled with numbers of                                                 the lost, who now are no more                                                 the cost is too dear to bear                                                 except with sadness, and mourning                                                 but there is no time there is danger                                                                                         and warring                                                                                                             while the world dithers uncertain, close the blinds draw the curtain, cover your ears, we are doing something here, umm, there.
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That grandiose colossus who Stood astride The envious assaults of sea (Essaying, wave by wave, Tide by tide, To undo him, perpetually), Has nothing on you, O my love O my great idiot, who With one foot Caught (as it were) in the muck-trap Of skin and bone, Dithers with the other way out In preposterous provinces of the madcap Cloud-cuckoo, Agawp at the impeccable moon.
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Feb 20, 2014
Feb 20, 2014 at 7:04 AM UTC
Letter to A Purist by Sylvia Plath
sudden dawn treader sweet supreme blond absent sugar brain dithers on tantalizing cool green reds traipse proficient dark/light music into resilient hued rainbows i challenge any daughters sun to worship more acutely the pulsing beat of you endless never
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May 15, 2010
May 15, 2010 at 1:06 PM UTC
sudden dawn treader
*had to catch my breath   amid dithers of stillness, to comprehend little flashes of brilliance midst madness, nearly inaudible, but   the premise was genuine willing to take the leap where stars collide &     poetry is extraordinary a place beyond perception     of sun & lunar moonbows, I'll meet you halfway     'tween faith and conception whence compassion never hesitates   and reality is a meditation           of rendered tranquility*
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Jun 7, 2015
Jun 7, 2015 at 8:24 AM UTC
Where stars collide amidst tranquility
SMOTHER YOURSELF WITH PEANUT BUTTER You may like chicken and your mate might like it, too One of you might like peanut butter as cookies but the Other as a sandwich but that is truly no excuse to often be Snickering and flickering when you could be getting along And even dickering or having fun and cooking together ‘like Two or more birds of a feather’ even if you don’t wear leather And your name’s not Heather- you don’t have to be in tethers    and dithers.   Toss out the old useless medication and all of that stalling alcohol Switch to an alternative that needs no perspiration or prescription  Or drutioins- ‘if there be no purpose it’s not needed so toss it all out And make the switch before you lose your ability to do so otherwise You are throwing your life away without sway instead of striving   Resist not offered help no matter who or what offer it whether it be friends or   God- it really makes no difference because God is our Divine Father so whoever and whatever the offer comes from it’s from God- fret not over how People communicate nor how advice is given for it has to be given when it’s  given- you who are in need of it must really listen, so listen up then smother  yourself with peanut butter
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Jun 17, 2016
Jun 17, 2016 at 10:41 AM UTC
Smother Yourself With Peanut Butter
It was a damp kiss of an image. Dispassionately you drop an old coin into my hands. Faithless in your poem. I adored the Venus in twilight. Carnation. A rose pink color, appears in your eyes. Rising from the marshy slush, greater flamingos keep watch underneath, at the army of urns. The sameness now dithers. You want to weave the moon in your breast, unpreparing to open the heart.
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Jul 18, 2017
Jul 18, 2017 at 11:22 PM UTC
Unthreading