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"ems" poems
Halfway through the journey Winter came to stay The ones I met along my path Chased the cold away Memories of twisting Beneath the starry sky Kept the wind from swirling in And pulled my spirits high. Once I was a singer, Though po-ems tinged my dreams. The journey saw an end to that And waking- raced from me. Shattering and scattered Like stars across the skies Out of reach and far away; I wished on while I tried. I never really minded though Or mourned the goals I lost For losing each and everything Was freedom's exact cost. Explaining this to others Was pointless to me though For how can others understand The open road's my home?
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Nov 2, 2014
Nov 2, 2014 at 7:41 PM UTC
Ode To LDR
I was a Paramedic I saved lives Prolonged great inevitable grief Witnessed the grotesque miracle of unexpected birth And the ****** it brings Sat on my *** became complacent And depressed Forgot to put into what was being taken from me Over and over I worked and came home to silence and destitude I craved the excitement like a ********** would payday I worked with the greatest personalities people that wouldn't back down I had no gun No hero complex I used to be a Paramedic
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Aug 3, 2013
Aug 3, 2013 at 9:07 PM UTC
EMS
I wonder 'oo and wot 'e was, That 'Un I got so slick. I couldn't see 'is face because The night was 'ideous thick. I just made out among the black A blinkin' wedge o' white; Then biff! I guess I got 'im crack -- The man I killed last night. I wonder if account o' me Some ***** will go ***** And 'eaps o' lives will never be, Because 'e's stark and dead? Or if 'is missis damns the war, And by some candle light, Tow-headed kids are prayin' for The Fritz I copped last night. I wonder, 'struth, I wonder why I 'ad that 'orful dream? I saw up in the giddy sky The gates o' God agleam; I saw the gates o' 'eaven shine Wiv everlastin' light: And then . . . I knew that I'd got mine, As 'e got 'is last night. Aye, bang beyond the broodin' mists Where spawn the mother stars, I 'ammered wiv me ****** fists Upon them golden bars; I 'ammered till a devil's doubt Fair froze me wiv affright: To fink wot God would say about The bloke I corpsed last night. I 'ushed; I wilted wiv despair, When, like a rosy flame, I sees a angel standin' there 'Oo calls me by me name. 'E 'ad such soft, such shiny eyes; 'E 'eld 'is 'and and smiled; And through the gates o' Paradise 'E led me like a child. 'E led me by them golden palms Wot 'ems that jeweled street; And seraphs was a-singin' psalms, You've no ideer 'ow sweet; Wiv cheroobs crowdin' closer round Than peas is in a pod, 'E led me to a shiny mound Where beams the throne o' God. And then I 'ears God's werry voice: "Bill 'agan, 'ave no fear. Stand up and glory and rejoice For 'im 'oo led you 'ere." And in a nip I seemed to see: Aye, like a flash o' light, My angel pal I knew to be The chap I plugged last night. Now, I don't claim to understand -- They calls me Bonehead Bill; They shoves a rifle in me 'and, And show me 'ow to **** Me job's to risk me life and limb, But . . . be it wrong or right, This cross I'm makin', it's for 'im, The cove I croaked last night.
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2.7k
Bonehead Bill
I wonder 'oo and wot 'e was, That 'Un I got so slick. I couldn't see 'is face because The night was 'ideous thick. I just made out among the black A blinkin' wedge o' white; Then biff! I guess I got 'im crack -- The man I killed last night. I wonder if account o' me Some ***** will go ***** And 'eaps o' lives will never be, Because 'e's stark and dead? Or if 'is missis damns the war, And by some candle light, Tow-headed kids are prayin' for The Fritz I copped last night. I wonder, 'struth, I wonder why I 'ad that 'orful dream? I saw up in the giddy sky The gates o' God agleam; I saw the gates o' 'eaven shine Wiv everlastin' light: And then . . . I knew that I'd got mine, As 'e got 'is last night. Aye, bang beyond the broodin' mists Where spawn the mother stars, I 'ammered wiv me ****** fists Upon them golden bars; I 'ammered till a devil's doubt Fair froze me wiv affright: To fink wot God would say about The bloke I corpsed last night. I 'ushed; I wilted wiv despair, When, like a rosy flame, I sees a angel standin' there 'Oo calls me by me name. 'E 'ad such soft, such shiny eyes; 'E 'eld 'is 'and and smiled; And through the gates o' Paradise 'E led me like a child. 'E led me by them golden palms Wot 'ems that jeweled street; And seraphs was a-singin' psalms, You've no ideer 'ow sweet; Wiv cheroobs crowdin' closer round Than peas is in a pod, 'E led me to a shiny mound Where beams the throne o' God. And then I 'ears God's werry voice: "Bill 'agan, 'ave no fear. Stand up and glory and rejoice For 'im 'oo led you 'ere." And in a nip I seemed to see: Aye, like a flash o' light, My angel pal I knew to be The chap I plugged last night. Now, I don't claim to understand -- They calls me Bonehead Bill; They shoves a rifle in me 'and, And show me 'ow to **** Me job's to risk me life and limb, But . . . be it wrong or right, This cross I'm makin', it's for 'im, The cove I croaked last night.
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64
In the distance, I see a Hound bus cruising down the country road The stretched out Greyhound dog in front of the bus with look and behold Now watch as numerous stories unfold I hear a Greyhound Driver narrating his tail of his stories surrounding the hound bus I will narrate a couple for you Our story starts in Topeka, Kansas enroute to Kansas City, Kansas The bus left on time during its usual run schedule However, the weather started getting rough Driving in the wind and rain made it really tough A Tornado could be seen in the distance destroying everything in its path along the farmlands Yet that Greyhound bus steadily kept moving But the fierce violent winds were blowing Suddenly, the Greyhound bus got a lift Up in the funnel of the Tornado the Greyhound bus went far from any drift However, a miracle took place, and the bus was slowly let down gently to the ground The Greyhound bus remained in tacked and nothing but praises in God’s thanks was the sound This is my account of another story I was travelling from New York City to San Francisco, California It was a vacation being a 4 days journey and New York City back We had just crossed the Nevada state line being a rest stop A Young Woman went into labor on the bus The Driver was counting the contractions, but we all knew what was going to happen This was supposed too be an 30 minute rest stop, but turned into a 2 hour rest stop Luckily, the bus was near a major hospital nearby, and an ambulance was summoned The EMS carried the Pregnant Woman on a stretcher off the bus and her Boyfriend (Husband) followed Later, the bus pushed on, and I arrived at my final destination ahead of schedule into San Francisco Another story tail This time I was travelling to Los Angeles from New York City We stopped in a Ghost town There were tumbleweed flying everywhere and shutters were hitting all the houses along with wind blowing Yet, there were no citizens in the town Meanwhile, it was 6:00 AM in Arizona Suddenly, all the passengers wondered who was coming aboard But everyone was thinking thriller oh my Lord A Male Passenger boarded, but spoke Spanish He was drunk and wanted to sit with anyone, but passengers refused So he had to go to the back of the bus where the restroom was He talked from the time he boarded until we arrived in Los Angeles So Greyhound is more than a ride, it became an adventure Stories upon stories Go Greyhound with its own storyline The venture being the bus, but no need to fuss Greyhound is the American Frontier and that involves us What is your Greyhound traveling story?
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Oct 18, 2016
Oct 18, 2016 at 7:19 PM UTC
GREYHOUND BUS STORIES BEING AN ACTUAL STORY
In the distance, I see a Hound bus cruising down the country road The stretched out Greyhound dog in front of the bus with look and behold Now watch as numerous stories unfold I hear a Greyhound Driver narrating his tail of his stories surrounding the hound bus I will narrate a couple for you Our story starts in Topeka, Kansas enroute to Kansas City, Kansas The bus left on time during its usual run schedule However, the weather started getting rough Driving in the wind and rain made it really tough A Tornado could be seen in the distance destroying everything in its path along the farmlands Yet that Greyhound bus steadily kept moving But the fierce violent winds were blowing Suddenly, the Greyhound bus got a lift Up in the funnel of the Tornado the Greyhound bus went far from any drift However, a miracle took place, and the bus was slowly let down gently to the ground The Greyhound bus remained in tacked and nothing but praises in God’s thanks was the sound This is my account of another story I was travelling from New York City to San Francisco, California It was a vacation being a 4 days journey and New York City back We had just crossed the Nevada state line being a rest stop A Young Woman went into labor on the bus The Driver was counting the contractions, but we all knew what was going to happen This was supposed too be an 30 minute rest stop, but turned into a 2 hour rest stop Luckily, the bus was near a major hospital nearby, and an ambulance was summoned The EMS carried the Pregnant Woman on a stretcher off the bus and her Boyfriend (Husband) followed Later, the bus pushed on, and I arrived at my final destination ahead of schedule into San Francisco Another story tail This time I was travelling to Los Angeles from New York City We stopped in a Ghost town There were tumbleweed flying everywhere and shutters were hitting all the houses along with wind blowing Yet, there were no citizens in the town Meanwhile, it was 6:00 AM in Arizona Suddenly, all the passengers wondered who was coming aboard But everyone was thinking thriller oh my Lord A Male Passenger boarded, but spoke Spanish He was drunk and wanted to sit with anyone, but passengers refused So he had to go to the back of the bus where the restroom was He talked from the time he boarded until we arrived in Los Angeles So Greyhound is more than a ride, it became an adventure Stories upon stories Go Greyhound with its own storyline The venture being the bus, but no need to fuss Greyhound is the American Frontier and that involves us What is your Greyhound traveling story?
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44
She looks at me and I know in that                                      quickest                                of                            seconds              something is wrong.                                  *"Mom?                                         Mom?!"* And she               crumples        against my sister. I saw the                             confusion        in my mom's eyes and now I see the                             panic        in my sister's. My mom, limp on the ground,        isn't responding        to my repeated pleas. *"She's having a stroke!             She's having a stroke!"* Panic makes my sister's voice                             frantic.                    We've been here before. All around people are crowding        waytooclose, but the shouts for EMS can't               drown out the                                           burst of silence suddenly in my head. My sister and I lock eyes,                                    transported to when this happened before,               wondering...                             worrying...
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Sep 5, 2015
Sep 5, 2015 at 6:51 PM UTC
Flashback
She looks at me and I know in that                                      quickest                                of                            seconds              something is wrong.                                  *"Mom?                                         Mom?!"* And she               crumples        against my sister. I saw the                             confusion        in my mom's eyes and now I see the                             panic        in my sister's. My mom, limp on the ground,        isn't responding        to my repeated pleas. *"She's having a stroke!             She's having a stroke!"* Panic makes my sister's voice                             frantic.                    We've been here before. All around people are crowding        waytooclose, but the shouts for EMS can't               drown out the                                           burst of silence suddenly in my head. My sister and I lock eyes,                                    transported to when this happened before,               wondering...                             worrying...
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35
In the early morning of August, We headed off to the Great Ocean Road. The beauty of it all took my breath away. I can still remember the vivid blue Of the Ocean, Of the sky. Cheveux au vent The piercingly cold wind At the Twelve Apostles Swept us away, With grace. In the heart of the Rainforest We made our way through like warriors, With glory. The experience felt like a dream; It was enchanting And I loved it. -12/11/13 © eMs' silent poetry. All Rights Reserved.
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Dec 20, 2013
Dec 20, 2013 at 8:55 PM UTC
A Road to Remember
There was an Old Person of Ems, Who casually fell in the Thames; And when he was found They said he was drowned, That unlucky Old Person of Ems.
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1.5k
There Was An Old Person Of Ems
This word does not require a dictionary definition. It does require a shoutout to AmandaFH, who commissioned this poem, and whose surging emotional haikus delight and inspired this poem. Regret first, get a knife. cut yourself figuratively only, in half. take the Memory Part that rises in the gorge, poetry source, that precedes that awful word, regrets, with me, I, and My. dump, flush it fast down the drain, disposal, someplace where there is no retrieval, going back, second chance. cause when that's done, now there is no one who cares about your regrets. that is the easy part. you don't need to be a poet, litany lilting a list so long of loves lost, chances, shots not taken, or worst, those you didn't love well enough and can't go back. gone, but hey, but yet, body still weighed down. incomplete, stop, even with those **** regrets banished, empty spaces sore, empty being a word I don't really like. but I having come to earth to heal, whole you in the places that need soul filling, Invitation: we are gathered here today to remember your future regrets, long may they rest in the land of things that never happened. you are aware of   exactly of what you're avoiding, today's "to do" list that only gets added to, that you never willingly pick up. pick up the phone. I will even accept texts. heck, send them one of those there Po-ems you write so well. if there is one, Then There Are Ten, who need to hear from you, right now, not later never, that you love them. it costs. could even cost more later. do it anyway. cause today is the first day of never having a regret ever. again. beg for forgiveness. grant forgiveness. pay that bill. tear up the bill you think is owed you. choose. pick. decide. apologize. let it go, free the part of you that will be now never be regretted later. here is where I quit this Po-me-em. gotta couple of emails to send, all starting with a warm gracious hi! followed by a couple of missing thinking loving you and it's been a while since... p.s. it's been awhile since, may have overlooked acknowledging your comments and likes, not answered that message, re my words that stirred, so let me start here and repair that error, right, right now, here, cross off that future regret, I humbly, thank you in a way no words could ever fully express.
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Dec 14, 2013
Dec 14, 2013 at 10:00 AM UTC
Regret: A Commissioned Poem
This word does not require a dictionary definition. It does require a shoutout to AmandaFH, who commissioned this poem, and whose surging emotional haikus delight and inspired this poem. Regret first, get a knife. cut yourself figuratively only, in half. take the Memory Part that rises in the gorge, poetry source, that precedes that awful word, regrets, with me, I, and My. dump, flush it fast down the drain, disposal, someplace where there is no retrieval, going back, second chance. cause when that's done, now there is no one who cares about your regrets. that is the easy part. you don't need to be a poet, litany lilting a list so long of loves lost, chances, shots not taken, or worst, those you didn't love well enough and can't go back. gone, but hey, but yet, body still weighed down. incomplete, stop, even with those **** regrets banished, empty spaces sore, empty being a word I don't really like. but I having come to earth to heal, whole you in the places that need soul filling, Invitation: we are gathered here today to remember your future regrets, long may they rest in the land of things that never happened. you are aware of   exactly of what you're avoiding, today's "to do" list that only gets added to, that you never willingly pick up. pick up the phone. I will even accept texts. heck, send them one of those there Po-ems you write so well. if there is one, Then There Are Ten, who need to hear from you, right now, not later never, that you love them. it costs. could even cost more later. do it anyway. cause today is the first day of never having a regret ever. again. beg for forgiveness. grant forgiveness. pay that bill. tear up the bill you think is owed you. choose. pick. decide. apologize. let it go, free the part of you that will be now never be regretted later. here is where I quit this Po-me-em. gotta couple of emails to send, all starting with a warm gracious hi! followed by a couple of missing thinking loving you and it's been a while since... p.s. it's been awhile since, may have overlooked acknowledging your comments and likes, not answered that message, re my words that stirred, so let me start here and repair that error, right, right now, here, cross off that future regret, I humbly, thank you in a way no words could ever fully express.
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105
Bro ken Po ems a re of ten dif fi cult to co mpr e h en d B ut ..... .... .. . So ar e b ro k enh e ar ts bro ke np r o mi se s a n d b r ok end re am s
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Jan 25, 2012
Jan 25, 2012 at 8:23 PM UTC
Fractures
Kinda fainted Friday nite, De doctor, he come, he say, "Son you done give us a genuine affright." De doctor, he come, he say, "Son, it's the end o' day, Get your **** in bed straightaway" "Here's what you be needing: twelve tablets of hourly salting, no halting eight hours bed rest, no dreaming, four gallons o' tap water, drinking, no stopping,   ***"and for god's sakery, cease and desist from this writing, poetry nonsense fakery."*** Weakly, I protested, "My poems are the waste products, the excretions of salt water tears, a thousand years in the making, dreams foretelling and retelling events disturbing. If not removed, disinterred by their inscribing, these poisonous emotions, shall surely cause once more my fainting and falling demotion." He frowned, de doctor, he was perturbed, his medical thinking cap was for sure disturbed! With sighs that made my heart to be a stirring , De doctor, he come, he say, held forth as following, quiet murmuring: "Here is my prescription: if you musting, but with strict limitations it be enforcing: *No more than four po-ems De doctor permit to be writ* per hour."
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Oct 14, 2017
Oct 14, 2017 at 10:37 AM UTC
Kinda fainted Friday nite
Desperate cry! The Sapiens climb out of molded couch cushions, fake forms of human clay flesh burnt by kilns and flaming flash fiction. Electric! Eel-slippery, fat fingers plug socks on hide arches, Yellow Ems ™ where stems meet ground and grease the pure dirt with perspiration. Be, oh! BE! – please? Be ‘fore the tail forks its tip against fine china, ‘fore the lungs, with their breath, blacken all that’s left of Gran’s good silver. “Gold though!” – sweet leaf tea that glides smooth down dry throats and helps soothe, herbal chamomile confection that calls the tailor in for noose and suit. “Spades!” I say – so we dress for death, not life; we mold and rot in ‘tumes. Give me my birthday garb, unstarched, wrinkled on its frame – dusty then, I will be happy then.
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Jul 3, 2010
Jul 3, 2010 at 10:33 PM UTC
Counting into the Ground, or Writing and Dying in a Numerical World
I AM TRYING TO STAY AFLOAT BUT I CAN'T HELP BUT LOVE THE TASTE OF WATER IN MY LUNGS FIRE AND WATER ARE DANCING IN MY BELLY LIKE ARMAGEDDON DO THE MARINES TEACH YOU HOW TO **** BECAUSE I WANT TO BE DEAD I WATCHED FRANK DIE IN FRONT OF ME I COUNTED WITH THE EMS TO 30 FOR EACH COMPRESSION AND THEN I COUNTED HOW LONG IT WAS IN BETWEEN THE SOUNDS OF ELECTRICITY TO THE SOUNDS OF HANDS POUNDING ON HIS CHEST I WATCHED THEM TAKE FRANK AWAY I COUNTED HOW MANY TIMES MY MOTHER PRAYED 18 MY MOTHER PRAYED 18 TIMES I COUNTED THE MINUTES IT TOOK FOR MY BROTHER TO DRIVE HOME FROM COLLEGE IT TOOK HIM 42 MINUTES BECAUSE IT WAS 12:30 IN THE MORNING AND THERE WAS NO TRAFFIC ON THE HIGHWAY I'VE STOPPED SEEING PEOPLE ALL I SEE ARE PUZZLES I'M ONLY SHOUTING BECAUSE IT SEEMS THAT GOD HASN'T BEEN ABLE TO HEAR ME LATELY THE WORST OF THE WILDLIFE WEARS CLOTHES AND CAN PRAY WE ARE ANIMALS IN MAN SUITS BUT YOU HAVE SHOWN ME YOUR MASKS NONE OF THIS MAKES ANY SENSE ANYMORE LIFE IS AN ENIGMA BUT YOU TOLD ME TO STOP SOLVING PUZZLES WITH THE PIECES MISSING
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Feb 19, 2014
Feb 19, 2014 at 9:54 PM UTC
TO EVERYONE I'VE EVER MET
"We had all these crazy fuckin' dreams together, Me and Her. We ate our weight in marshmallow ***** pancakes underneath the stars and kissed each other with tongues of fire licking roofs of open mouth. Her mouth was like a fuckin' inferno, like in the sense that it seems so small and insignificant until you actually get there and then it just swallows you whole, gets you hotter than you've ever been in your fuckin' life and you're there for eternity. It's endless. If you weren't thinking about it before, now you're thinking about it. You're thinkin' about her, and thank the fuckin' heavens for that. If I could get every man on the face of this planet to think about her the way I do, at the length that I do, til we all fuckin' keel over, it just wouldn't do it. She's somebody that gets stuck in your hair when you're not looking and somebody you trip over in the mornings when you just fuckin' cleaned the place up. She clings to the bottom of your shoes til you can hear her name in any number of footsteps on any number of paths." ______________________________________________________________ Baby, let me sit in the driver's seat. Let me drift smoothly, subtly into your lane. Remember how you always said I was too **** skinny? Guess what, baby? When the tail lights call to me I can slide right in between them, like a fitted sheet or rungs on a washboard. I darted between the raindrops like you always said I would but I got wet anyways. What do you know about that? I don't know much about it, myself. The doctor said I can't drive anymore. I told that son-of-a-bitch, "my eyesight's 20/20! I seen every single puzzle piece on those office inkblots for the knives and daggers that they are! The **** I look like?" I'm exhausted, Baby. I'm leaking black smoke out of my lungs. I don't brush my teeth anymore because the fluoride ***** up my third eye. How do ya feel about that? Meditate on it. Meditate on me. Meditate on the stars, on the heavens, on God, on babies that died inside of us. I always told you, Baby, you're the best idea God ever had. You fuckin' did it. Tie me up, baby. If I can't drive anymore, drive me out of here. Tie me up to the ******* tracks and cover my naked body with those whaddya call ems? Tuck me into your blanket statements so big I get them confused with the entire ******* sky.
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Jan 21, 2014
Jan 21, 2014 at 9:44 PM UTC
Wyoming In It's Natural Habitat
"We had all these crazy fuckin' dreams together, Me and Her. We ate our weight in marshmallow ***** pancakes underneath the stars and kissed each other with tongues of fire licking roofs of open mouth. Her mouth was like a fuckin' inferno, like in the sense that it seems so small and insignificant until you actually get there and then it just swallows you whole, gets you hotter than you've ever been in your fuckin' life and you're there for eternity. It's endless. If you weren't thinking about it before, now you're thinking about it. You're thinkin' about her, and thank the fuckin' heavens for that. If I could get every man on the face of this planet to think about her the way I do, at the length that I do, til we all fuckin' keel over, it just wouldn't do it. She's somebody that gets stuck in your hair when you're not looking and somebody you trip over in the mornings when you just fuckin' cleaned the place up. She clings to the bottom of your shoes til you can hear her name in any number of footsteps on any number of paths." ______________________________________________________________ Baby, let me sit in the driver's seat. Let me drift smoothly, subtly into your lane. Remember how you always said I was too **** skinny? Guess what, baby? When the tail lights call to me I can slide right in between them, like a fitted sheet or rungs on a washboard. I darted between the raindrops like you always said I would but I got wet anyways. What do you know about that? I don't know much about it, myself. The doctor said I can't drive anymore. I told that son-of-a-bitch, "my eyesight's 20/20! I seen every single puzzle piece on those office inkblots for the knives and daggers that they are! The **** I look like?" I'm exhausted, Baby. I'm leaking black smoke out of my lungs. I don't brush my teeth anymore because the fluoride ***** up my third eye. How do ya feel about that? Meditate on it. Meditate on me. Meditate on the stars, on the heavens, on God, on babies that died inside of us. I always told you, Baby, you're the best idea God ever had. You fuckin' did it. Tie me up, baby. If I can't drive anymore, drive me out of here. Tie me up to the ******* tracks and cover my naked body with those whaddya call ems? Tuck me into your blanket statements so big I get them confused with the entire ******* sky.
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11
They whirl and swirl and dive But do they? The no see ‘ems, You can’t see ‘em but you can feel them there Cavorting and frolicking, invisible in the air A dinner time dance, gluttonous splurge You’ll know all about their evening soirée When you discover the main course is … You.
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Apr 11, 2018
Apr 11, 2018 at 7:26 PM UTC
Invisible dinner time
Un rêve si lointain, Ces moments si chers, Se sont évanouis comme un soupir, Ce beau sourire Qui fait chaud au coeur, Ne reste qu'un souvenir. Le silence s'instale Et a corps perdu, Je m'y perds. Cette musique dans ma tête M'appaise, Comme un léger souffle Si doux et si tendre. Vers l'aurore, l'aube debute. A l'horizon, une lueur se dessine Et a contre-courant, je m'épanche, Avec une certaine maladresse. Mais tout lentement, J'ouvre mes ailes Vers une destinée nouvelle... -08/12/13 © eMs' silent poetry. All Rights Reserved
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Dec 19, 2013
Dec 19, 2013 at 9:00 AM UTC
Vers l'aurore
Un simple geste suffit Pour m'avouer l'infini D'un sentiment qui envahit tout mon être Si seulement, pour toi, je suis celle Que tu trouveras belle Tu liras ainsi les mots de mon coeur Et ainsi se dessinera, peut-être une lueur Une histoire qui sera nôtre Et à personne d'autre Je tends une main vers l'inconnu Pour que tu la prennes sans retenue Et ensemble, nous irons là-bas Où le bonheur nous viendra Et à ça, on y aura droit... -12/04/14 © eMs' silent poetry. All Rights Reserved.
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Apr 12, 2014
Apr 12, 2014 at 10:43 AM UTC
LÀ-BAS
the plot of my dying son’s dream includes an alien technology meant to isolate what makes us inhuman. he is unable to ascertain the holder of such a patent as his disorder wakes him before his time. I direct his attention to the youtube video of my injury. it’s the first time I’ve seen myself sleepwalk. as with all my children, I get his attention by waving the rolled up catalog his mother failed to sell. I keep it with me at all times and have been caught using it to spy on what I cannot provide. in the video I look surprisingly fit. my oldest daughter is sitting on my shoulders and her hair is on fire. I am running through a sprinkler in a front yard I don’t recognize and am taken at the ankles by some animal the darkness hides. here the video stops but I’ve heard there are others that go on a bit longer. when my stepfather was very sick his memory convinced him he had traveled more than once to a foreign land. the most valuable thing he came back with was his father’s gentle nature which he uses often when guiding me to clear a path for EMS.
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Jun 10, 2013
Jun 10, 2013 at 4:23 PM UTC
convocations
gems i thought i'd never find, i found in him. under the soft moonlight, he sang to me, words of love. such sweet phrases coming out of beautiful lips. lips i could stare at for ages and ages. i love you's and kisses and warm embraces. he could be the one. the one i'd spend the rest of my life with. i could be his princess, and we'd live happily ever after.
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Oct 8, 2013
Oct 8, 2013 at 1:36 PM UTC
...or not quite
As we lay there side by side Together The clouds above looked beautiful The gush of cold breeze felt refreshing Beneath the blue sky of Surfers Paradise We closed our eyes Breathed in the fresh air The gentle sound and The smell of the pure, untainted sea Warmed our hearts It was a lovely moment shared It was a quiet, simple afternoon With our worries behind And an immaculate view of blue before us Even now, I still remember how perfect it was And I treasure the memory of it With sheer fondness -15/09/2013 © eMs' silent poetry. All Rights Reserved.
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Dec 20, 2013
Dec 20, 2013 at 8:53 PM UTC
Paradise in August
Po-ems these days Often leave me in a haze They try to deter my gaze As I hope it's just a phase Skill level means nothing If you always end up flunking On yesterday and today's age old trend If one still lacks the goods Why not fax in some hoods To add to an otherwise cold winter So lounging one day I decided to sift through the hay So please refrain from the hinder But scrolling away I find a knot in said hay And I thought it was about time to sic her Po-ems these days are dumb I'd rather **** my OWN thumb They're as utilitarian as my *** Which is something I often forget to wipe
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Jan 29, 2015
Jan 29, 2015 at 10:34 PM UTC
An Endless Lyrical Flow Graces the Consumer's Ear as They Toil Away at the Clockwork
silence ScrEamS your c H o.   <youcouldhavejustsaid> i C e YOU;,...didn't have to LeT the flo                 wers,...d_i_e To prove/a/point Be___cause The only lie^i^told^ was when i said the Po     Ems Weren't a\b\o\u\T you, Y o u, {o, u, Y}¿ >>>>Mostly i.just.want.you. To have(andtohold) Allofthethings ....EVEN IF it's with//so {me} one //else...
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Dec 5, 2015
Dec 5, 2015 at 9:33 PM UTC
{I'll} Close My Eyes
if you could cut a miracle open...all your lives would stand on their Head. made upright to the figure that adjusts the fullest rush of blood to that Head. as your truest love says: hey there, i've been looking for you... how on earth are you? answer: just fine baby, come closer. happening frequently asks itself, how? which is on terms with the ripest time. come closer, come closer. see...i've said it three times. which must count for something. is this math all in my Head? (stupid smile). look out for the fact you're breathing my breath. please take it, as away. a bevy of purple beds knock at your gush. next level's found you...hi. let's gab our gift in all the right places. po-ems~
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Nov 11, 2018
Nov 11, 2018 at 9:18 AM UTC
Come Closer
I saw you And felt joy You appeared So differently You showed interest And listened And was kind I told you a story Talked about the “Tallgrass” book Showed you my world Let you in We connected Took a stroll It felt real I was myself With you by my side Everything looked bright I didn’t want it to end Then I woke up I knew it was just a dream But it was beautiful... -22/01/13 © eMs' silent poetry. All Rights Reserved.
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Dec 19, 2013
Dec 19, 2013 at 9:33 AM UTC
Just A Dream
Lay right back and I'll tell a tale a tale of meds gone wrong it started at the bar last night that's why I wrote this song the pill was not that small, but blue a diamondly shaped cure setting my watch timer for a four hour tour a four hour tour She told me that, she liked my smile and wanted to know more like if I made good breakfast and if I'd like to score and if I'd like to score My libido took her places she'd never seen before and made a mess of my apartment of that you can be sure of that you can be sure I ran aground as my watch went off not for lack of need my buddy did not know it but now he couldn't *** EMS said I was lucky as purple not a shade I would want to keep in vogue or put upon display The needle began removing blood at rate that made me swoon nurse plunging it in so deep a ****** harpoon a ****** harpoon So take my warning serious and know not to indulge or at the ER you will be an exsanguinating bulge my exsanguinated bulge
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Mar 21, 2017
Mar 21, 2017 at 2:53 PM UTC
Four hour tour (to the tune of Gilligan's Island, sort of)