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"ethanol" poems
Broccoli in a white lamp shade cast shadowy face tattoos to mark the unjoustly. The festival in background is throbbing in directly contrasting sound, to the art nouveau it's sleeping with. Each vegan burger stand vomits exquisite neon. However the collage itself is apologetically brown. Theatre masks and DJs, VR and a Just Dance floor set, a sprint before midnight, a sprint after discount ethanol; so I gaze and perhaps ponder for a friend. And yet when counting the heads, I find I needn’t more than my own to hands for the few middle-aged supermarket clerks
0
Sep 29, 2018
Sep 29, 2018 at 4:01 PM UTC
Consumer's Solstice
Consumed by the constant rolls that play Developed so well, recorded so well Chasing the aroma that gently caresses the keys of the grand olfactory organs Sinking into the fibers that catch me when I’m melting They remember the tight grip that I’ve imposed on them The grip imposed on me Yet I want to sift through Entangled by the loose strands I can’t help but to make vulnerable The sway in the tongue that rolls tones so heavy Leaves me tender Such fervor unfolding itself, irritating the chests it lays on Ethanol giving shoves until the words rupture into your gaze Listening for more in hopes the shower could saturate me again Hopeful and tender, I immerse you in ego Later washing away everything that froth before our eyes Then repeating the same intoxicating copulation Until the light breaks through and I’m presented an abbreviated endearment Leaving me instilled until the next time it’s decided times can concur
0
Jan 12, 2019
Jan 12, 2019 at 10:03 AM UTC
Situationship or everythingship
When his eyes first fell upon her She was choosing avocados In the fruit and vegetable aisle. And he watched how her thumbs lingered On the base of the alligator pear And pressed, maternally. He feigned interest in the cabbages Whilst sensing her delicate architecture Through his peripheral gaze. He thought that somewhere, In real or imaginary life, They would soon bathe together. And when they did, They soaked for years in secrets, Details suffusing through their lips and arms, Water-hole satisfaction and moonlit deserts To make them feel they might have transcended cabbages And be pervading a rhapsodic realm They forgot their friends watching in greenery, Subsumed by each-other, They felt no need To live in a world of relativity and apples. Their love-traced sphere tightened around them, Until it ****** at the edges of their skin And wailed when they parted. Tighter it grew, elastic dug into their humid thighs Contorting their once harmonic bodies That used to fit like crosswords. And they each became ugly to the other As the seconds ingested their perfection And they bickered like flailing urchins In a deep sea soiled darkness. Decisions were made and paroxysms detonated And they were taken back by their Fungal friends with tissue offerings And ethanol. Time passed, and memories were binned Periodically on tuesdays Until neither knew the other And they would pass in the supermarket With no more than a quickened gait And a silent thud in each ribcage. But neither could buy avocados.
0
Nov 16, 2011
Nov 16, 2011 at 12:18 PM UTC
Avocado Pear
When his eyes first fell upon her She was choosing avocados In the fruit and vegetable aisle. And he watched how her thumbs lingered On the base of the alligator pear And pressed, maternally. He feigned interest in the cabbages Whilst sensing her delicate architecture Through his peripheral gaze. He thought that somewhere, In real or imaginary life, They would soon bathe together. And when they did, They soaked for years in secrets, Details suffusing through their lips and arms, Water-hole satisfaction and moonlit deserts To make them feel they might have transcended cabbages And be pervading a rhapsodic realm They forgot their friends watching in greenery, Subsumed by each-other, They felt no need To live in a world of relativity and apples. Their love-traced sphere tightened around them, Until it ****** at the edges of their skin And wailed when they parted. Tighter it grew, elastic dug into their humid thighs Contorting their once harmonic bodies That used to fit like crosswords. And they each became ugly to the other As the seconds ingested their perfection And they bickered like flailing urchins In a deep sea soiled darkness. Decisions were made and paroxysms detonated And they were taken back by their Fungal friends with tissue offerings And ethanol. Time passed, and memories were binned Periodically on tuesdays Until neither knew the other And they would pass in the supermarket With no more than a quickened gait And a silent thud in each ribcage. But neither could buy avocados.
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43
The big angry things sling vocal feces Fleshy phallus-pumps close at hand, cooing Guzzle guzzle ethanol Inebriated petrol-baby "Smash the atom!" "We're too late, we're too late!" Tar (quick) sand ***** Big angry things drown "We gotta gotta drill!" Penetrate the Mother with a steel **** Oedipus laughs As the boulder, finally Crushes Sisyphus.
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Mar 3, 2013
Mar 3, 2013 at 2:54 PM UTC
Oedipus laughs
Suicidal serial killer bashes the bones hoping to feel nothing because that would be something A Swelling self-image pops in the distance is chewed, then inflated over and over this routine never fails to cycle, disappoint, and please Ethanol injections cuz oral doesn't do **** give it to me ******** ***** I'll munch your muffin just fo nuthin like I'm ****** with y'all Cuz I surf to fall and smoke to die In the high where life is inconsequential to question and I feel less than short Of supernatural Who are these new kids? They dress in tights and pick fights I can't see your face but I trust the feeling Damsel's are rescued blood is spewed Yet insanity is gushing The drugs are running out We might just be super We might just be heroes Entropy enters me ripping the glamour and with a stammer I know This isn't a comic book Marvel In awe at these elaborately induced fabrications and schemes to change the pecking order or chisel the universe to perfection The line of schizophrenic and degenerate flees for the hills that now have eyes
0
Jul 31, 2014
Jul 31, 2014 at 5:44 AM UTC
Suicidal Serial Killer
Preventing contamination, A constant challenge in cell culture. Contamination not only affects, The culture in question and, Costs time and money, But also endangers the reproducibility of results. No cell culture problem, Is as universal as that of culture loss Due to contamination. Generally, contamination may be separated, Into categories of microbial, And eukaryotic contamination. Examples of microbial contamination include: Bacteria (including Mycoplasma), Fungi and yeast; Eukaryotic contamination includes: Cross-contamination with other cell lines. Bacteria, yeast and fungi, The three more common types of contamination, But luckily these forms are often detectable, Under the microscope and, By visual cues, Like colour or turbidity changes in the medium. Mycoplasma is a small genus of bacteria, That lack a cell wall and for this reason, They remain unaffected by common antibiotics. They are also difficult to detect, With standard microscopes, Due to their size, about 0.1 μm in diameter, And the fact that they often attach to host cells. To prevent contamination, Use 70% ethanol for disinfecting, Equipment & surfaces, Related to cell culture. Sterile filter the media first, Before bringing to the lab. Fetal Bovine Serum, A potential source of contamination, Contains mycoplasma. Filter it at 0.1 μm, or, Gamma irradiate it. Aseptic technique, Necessary. The laboratory workers be the last, But not the least source of contamination. Teach them the ideal laboratory practices, To ensure asepticity in a laboratory.
0
Dec 6, 2016
Dec 6, 2016 at 9:02 PM UTC
Microbial Contamination & Ways of Preventing It
Preventing contamination, A constant challenge in cell culture. Contamination not only affects, The culture in question and, Costs time and money, But also endangers the reproducibility of results. No cell culture problem, Is as universal as that of culture loss Due to contamination. Generally, contamination may be separated, Into categories of microbial, And eukaryotic contamination. Examples of microbial contamination include: Bacteria (including Mycoplasma), Fungi and yeast; Eukaryotic contamination includes: Cross-contamination with other cell lines. Bacteria, yeast and fungi, The three more common types of contamination, But luckily these forms are often detectable, Under the microscope and, By visual cues, Like colour or turbidity changes in the medium. Mycoplasma is a small genus of bacteria, That lack a cell wall and for this reason, They remain unaffected by common antibiotics. They are also difficult to detect, With standard microscopes, Due to their size, about 0.1 μm in diameter, And the fact that they often attach to host cells. To prevent contamination, Use 70% ethanol for disinfecting, Equipment & surfaces, Related to cell culture. Sterile filter the media first, Before bringing to the lab. Fetal Bovine Serum, A potential source of contamination, Contains mycoplasma. Filter it at 0.1 μm, or, Gamma irradiate it. Aseptic technique, Necessary. The laboratory workers be the last, But not the least source of contamination. Teach them the ideal laboratory practices, To ensure asepticity in a laboratory.
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47
Windex mice squeak through the windows, biting newspaper as it scrapes across. Soap from a new age fills the kitchen, sheeps' fat long forgotten, the sod-house of Laura Ingalls Wilder left behind with its crumbling Lincoln logs, the ceiling that drops dirt crumbs like a gritty pastry. Our world is shiny, so blinding that even the cough of newsprint makes it brighter. A bottle sneezes across the counter, spurts those bubbles of ammonia, gathers with the rivers and tides that surge with ethanol, it bursts the air with a neon smell and erases everything that has come before.
0
Feb 28, 2012
Feb 28, 2012 at 1:01 AM UTC
Cleaning
My hands are numb to all they touch But I feel their inner workings better than ever. I notice the strain while I'm writing, The cramp when I'm wanking, And the lack of a third line in my triplet. Their blood runs cool like ethanol. My eyes sting but they had the whole day, Let my lungs have their moment. Smoke soothes only second to air But my carnal desires placed it higher in demand. Warn all your kids And take coughing fits. The danger is real That's just how I feel.
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Jul 12, 2014
Jul 12, 2014 at 10:11 PM UTC
Nicotine.
Socrates consumed Hemlock, Cleopatra embraced the Asp, Alan Turing ate an apple laced with cyanide, I, like those before me, Have picked my poison; An absinthe-eyed, quicksilver-tongued boy. He was unsettled when I answered with the truth of his query, Yes, he is poison, I knowingly and willingly consume every drop of him, Not all toxicity is solely adverse, Radiation treats cancer, Venom in low doses is an antidote, Ethanol relaxes muscle and numbs the emotions. He is my poison and my antidote, He is the corrosive acid that dissolves gear-stopping rust, I, in kind, am the poison apple of his eye, Or so he says, And so, we two, bask in the destruction of ourselves, Consuming each other's pain, insecurity, madness, and lust, Why is it that he, a poison, is the one I trust?
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Jun 5, 2017
Jun 5, 2017 at 12:16 PM UTC
Pick Your Poison
The river runs it runs with greed The fast cash of the lucky Makes it's way to sea And poison floats with this poison greed The will of millions, cry out silently Because they have no idea about this poison greed Nurotoxicity Poisoning our cities The doctor tells the single mother To eat an apple everyday Which only supplement her daily Methlyphenidate Neurotoxicity And baby was born just few pounds light The tired mother relieved Baby swaddled in a sheet Of polybrominate Neurotoxicty But all ends were it began The conspirers of greed Don't have to loose a thing The toxic poisonous sludge doesn't run through their garden greens Somethings Fish-y Or is it all the mercury? East of the railroad tracks The man smoking crack Behind a tree Now breathing PCB's From car exhaust and factory Poor ****** breathes Neuroxicity And the lucky on lookers equipped to Notice such a thing or anything Watch in disbelief They should all find relief, the poison is fair It flows through everybody, everywhere For nothing makes the people sing Like a mix ethanol and manganese Neurotoxicty Spin round and round and sing This is called brainwashing Drink your mix of ethanol and manganese Watch your team throw the polyethylene Trickle down, trickle Your loosing the cells right from your brain While a doctor writes you a prescription to go insane After years of manganese and PCB's Jimmy B is lost in the sea of toxins But mom knows best He's a hyper brat Takes him to the doctor to get him Correct Doctor gives Jimmy a prescription The devil's speed Dextroamphetamine Jimmy was focused Jimmy didn't bother Jimmys brain a couple grams lighter The doctor intrigued gets a free meal To switch Jimmy's speed Four more Jimmies Doctor can vacation expenses paid By the sea Jimmy keeps on taking his pills Then over night Jimmy hits his first pipe Now that's some ******* good speed And the story goes Without relief The government we know Deligates neurological slavery
0
Aug 5, 2015
Aug 5, 2015 at 4:20 AM UTC
Neurological Slavery
The river runs it runs with greed The fast cash of the lucky Makes it's way to sea And poison floats with this poison greed The will of millions, cry out silently Because they have no idea about this poison greed Nurotoxicity Poisoning our cities The doctor tells the single mother To eat an apple everyday Which only supplement her daily Methlyphenidate Neurotoxicity And baby was born just few pounds light The tired mother relieved Baby swaddled in a sheet Of polybrominate Neurotoxicty But all ends were it began The conspirers of greed Don't have to loose a thing The toxic poisonous sludge doesn't run through their garden greens Somethings Fish-y Or is it all the mercury? East of the railroad tracks The man smoking crack Behind a tree Now breathing PCB's From car exhaust and factory Poor ****** breathes Neuroxicity And the lucky on lookers equipped to Notice such a thing or anything Watch in disbelief They should all find relief, the poison is fair It flows through everybody, everywhere For nothing makes the people sing Like a mix ethanol and manganese Neurotoxicty Spin round and round and sing This is called brainwashing Drink your mix of ethanol and manganese Watch your team throw the polyethylene Trickle down, trickle Your loosing the cells right from your brain While a doctor writes you a prescription to go insane After years of manganese and PCB's Jimmy B is lost in the sea of toxins But mom knows best He's a hyper brat Takes him to the doctor to get him Correct Doctor gives Jimmy a prescription The devil's speed Dextroamphetamine Jimmy was focused Jimmy didn't bother Jimmys brain a couple grams lighter The doctor intrigued gets a free meal To switch Jimmy's speed Four more Jimmies Doctor can vacation expenses paid By the sea Jimmy keeps on taking his pills Then over night Jimmy hits his first pipe Now that's some ******* good speed And the story goes Without relief The government we know Deligates neurological slavery
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73
Another day, another hour spent looking at cadavers, Surprisingly fun, and suspiciously fresh bodies- "Hey Mrs. Johnson, what do you think John did with his life?" She gave me a look that didn't seem too pleased at my inquisition. Or the fact that I named our body John. Morbidly, I thought she looked at me like a zombie would look at our friend John like a cold cut subway sandwich, Although I figured if I were a zombie, I'd prefer my meat fresh, and not embalmed with formaldehydes and ethanol. "That thought seems inappropriate and not respectful of the medical sacrifice 'john' made " she said dripping with in my opinion too much sarcasm for me to NOT respond too. "Well, John is dead, I don't think he's getting offended anytime soon," I retorted. Her smile contorted like the prudish smile John offered me in support. "I'm not worried about offending the corpse as much as I am the ghost, and this Lab will NOT be haunted under my watch" (Her pride in her wit inflated much like Johns body inflated with decomposition and bowel gases.) I apologized internally for the comment and action I was about to make- "This medical dictatorship has to collapse sooner or later- and I still want an answer too my question" And with that, I took the nearest scalpel to his bloated stomach, and watched in disgust and glee as everyone else ran for cover amongst the ****** of stomach contents and Johns final retribution in death. I got an A+ in that class.
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Apr 5, 2021
Apr 5, 2021 at 3:25 PM UTC
Medical dictatorship
He's only a mean, vicious cloud in the sky of my heart. The sun still blazes behind him, but he will always loom overhead, Spilling droplets of bromine that stain my skin, Spilling droplets of ethanol that blind me. I cast down hailstones the size of his new love's eyes, Eyes which will inevitably spill their own pearls as expressions of the heartache he delivers so well.
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May 23, 2012
May 23, 2012 at 12:39 AM UTC
Unwelcome Chemistry
80 proof Clear and distilled Your label is terrible With a mocking bird that I slowly peel Made of mostly water and ethanol A taste of bitterness and nothing at all You take my breath away as one sip after another I swallow I chase every drink I'm trying to drown myself as I slowly sink I'm starting off slow but soon you quicken my pace I want to just forget and let my thoughts be erased It's way to heavy this burden I carry Way too much for only me to handle So I let you burn and sting Until hopefully I won't feel a thing I'm craving numbness from everything in my mind Take me to any other place in time I want you to take a firm hold and float me over Just let me spin as you pull me under Make it all hazy so I don't feel so crazy You and a cigarette right now my only friends The only thing making me feel somewhat good again So it's just you and me with some brisk ice tea and cigarette smoke blowing in the cold night breeze But are you really my friends or just a couple foes? The only thing I got right now And yet I still feel so alone I just want to feel nothing at all Torn right down the middle Sitting dead center of this worn out saddle Baring down so I don't hit the ground It hurts now but I know it's going to hurt worse in the end There's no soft place for me to land And the physical pain doesn't scare me at all It's the emotional part that is taking it's toll I can't feel my mouth or find my voice But inside I'm screaming out so loud My eyes start to sting and my ears start to ring I'm dizzy and the ambiance around me feels so fuzzy My mind is dealing but my thoughts are reeling out of control Why can't I just make a decision Responsibility is killing my way of living I don't want this It hurts too much And I'm slowly loosing touch This is all too real and I don't know how I'm suppose to feel I wish this life would cut me some slack or make me a deal I'm sad and mad all at the same time I can't make sense of the thoughts in my mind I can't keep a grip on my emotions or self And I'm running out of time to figure this out Do I keep you or let you go? Reality is really taking it's toll And I don't know how much more strength I have left I'm just ready to find myself some rest So I'll drink you in and not spit you out But it's hard to keep any faith when all I have are doubts? How do I remain centered and tied down? I can't do this any longer So I'll let you take over and pull me under, I'll let you drown me as I give up all my self control And remain with all these questions but answers still unknown... You know what...? I just realized that... You haven't helped me figure out anything at all! © Ashley Rodden. All rights reserved
0
Jan 15, 2014
Jan 15, 2014 at 2:18 PM UTC
***** and Me
80 proof Clear and distilled Your label is terrible With a mocking bird that I slowly peel Made of mostly water and ethanol A taste of bitterness and nothing at all You take my breath away as one sip after another I swallow I chase every drink I'm trying to drown myself as I slowly sink I'm starting off slow but soon you quicken my pace I want to just forget and let my thoughts be erased It's way to heavy this burden I carry Way too much for only me to handle So I let you burn and sting Until hopefully I won't feel a thing I'm craving numbness from everything in my mind Take me to any other place in time I want you to take a firm hold and float me over Just let me spin as you pull me under Make it all hazy so I don't feel so crazy You and a cigarette right now my only friends The only thing making me feel somewhat good again So it's just you and me with some brisk ice tea and cigarette smoke blowing in the cold night breeze But are you really my friends or just a couple foes? The only thing I got right now And yet I still feel so alone I just want to feel nothing at all Torn right down the middle Sitting dead center of this worn out saddle Baring down so I don't hit the ground It hurts now but I know it's going to hurt worse in the end There's no soft place for me to land And the physical pain doesn't scare me at all It's the emotional part that is taking it's toll I can't feel my mouth or find my voice But inside I'm screaming out so loud My eyes start to sting and my ears start to ring I'm dizzy and the ambiance around me feels so fuzzy My mind is dealing but my thoughts are reeling out of control Why can't I just make a decision Responsibility is killing my way of living I don't want this It hurts too much And I'm slowly loosing touch This is all too real and I don't know how I'm suppose to feel I wish this life would cut me some slack or make me a deal I'm sad and mad all at the same time I can't make sense of the thoughts in my mind I can't keep a grip on my emotions or self And I'm running out of time to figure this out Do I keep you or let you go? Reality is really taking it's toll And I don't know how much more strength I have left I'm just ready to find myself some rest So I'll drink you in and not spit you out But it's hard to keep any faith when all I have are doubts? How do I remain centered and tied down? I can't do this any longer So I'll let you take over and pull me under, I'll let you drown me as I give up all my self control And remain with all these questions but answers still unknown... You know what...? I just realized that... You haven't helped me figure out anything at all! © Ashley Rodden. All rights reserved
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66
I am the ghost of a girl you once claimed to love; my dead hands *reaching, asking, begging* for a piece of your soul to wallow in forever. There will come a time when you are sick of trying to understand my mind and my wrists. I was never myself when I did this. If I were part of the ocean I would be the shallows; the cold tide that people walk all over *reaching, asking, begging* to pull people in but never getting close enough. I was never myself when I did that. I plead, help me live once again as something new born and blind; blind to the atrocities of humanity, but all seeing to life and love. Love, the only thing that could ever constitute as sacred; a relentless, chemical energy that turns you in to a fool in all the right ways. A substance more intelligent than any apparent genius. Oh, how the love *reaches, asks, begs* to confine me, and oh, sweet love; how I let you fill my lungs. I was never myself when I was with you. I’ve held hands with pain, kissed every frozen fingertip and I found my worship in ethanol and ash before I found it in between your lips and mine. You changed me in all the worst ways, causing me to start a war with my skin, causing me to see my own reflection as something unrecognisable, something I never wanted to be. I was never myself. I made the mistake of building a home out of a human being and he was so riddled with wanderlust; a nomadic masterpiece who couldn’t stay, but should’ve stayed. I’ve never felt so homesick. I’m tired of tearing away my skin and revealing the heart inside me to people that are incapable of loving anything other than themselves and their sadness. I crave for someone to look at me as though they can see my soul more than they can see my skin. I crave for someone to see what I wish to see. More than anything, I crave to see me: *strong, magnificent, and beautiful.*
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Dec 3, 2013
Dec 3, 2013 at 4:53 PM UTC
self-discovery
I am the ghost of a girl you once claimed to love; my dead hands *reaching, asking, begging* for a piece of your soul to wallow in forever. There will come a time when you are sick of trying to understand my mind and my wrists. I was never myself when I did this. If I were part of the ocean I would be the shallows; the cold tide that people walk all over *reaching, asking, begging* to pull people in but never getting close enough. I was never myself when I did that. I plead, help me live once again as something new born and blind; blind to the atrocities of humanity, but all seeing to life and love. Love, the only thing that could ever constitute as sacred; a relentless, chemical energy that turns you in to a fool in all the right ways. A substance more intelligent than any apparent genius. Oh, how the love *reaches, asks, begs* to confine me, and oh, sweet love; how I let you fill my lungs. I was never myself when I was with you. I’ve held hands with pain, kissed every frozen fingertip and I found my worship in ethanol and ash before I found it in between your lips and mine. You changed me in all the worst ways, causing me to start a war with my skin, causing me to see my own reflection as something unrecognisable, something I never wanted to be. I was never myself. I made the mistake of building a home out of a human being and he was so riddled with wanderlust; a nomadic masterpiece who couldn’t stay, but should’ve stayed. I’ve never felt so homesick. I’m tired of tearing away my skin and revealing the heart inside me to people that are incapable of loving anything other than themselves and their sadness. I crave for someone to look at me as though they can see my soul more than they can see my skin. I crave for someone to see what I wish to see. More than anything, I crave to see me: *strong, magnificent, and beautiful.*
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75
but i am putting it down until it hurts and grips me vicariously 'til i'm twisted around- i'm turned into a mug's handle it's the same plastic feeling i had before i miss the solid glass, and the strips of wood i teased with my angel fingers the mirror couldn't see me today i didn't let it. how could i? my eyes are too small, here shaggy planet earth was invaded in 1981 beginning with my first soul: i was so young i didn't know better tossed out, i'm left to drink up the abundance of this world. swallowing more light and dark than my small eyes can; i turned to ethanol. hemingway entered my life in the fall of '09 i couldn't have been more in love. maybe that's why i'm pen in one hand, drink in the other.
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Dec 19, 2017
Dec 19, 2017 at 1:58 PM UTC
It's Not Hemingway
Echo, cricket, Thump, stump. The very loud things Galloping through the silence. The creaking of stairs like the breaking of bones That snapped tin cap, Clinging onto the prophesied labor of your last breath, Oscillating through your liquefied ontology. Ethanol overflown and embodied. Cricket cricket, The underlying intrinsic. The empty tone of a distant voice. The spaces of letters and words so magnified So wide, Expanding like an unstoppable void. Oh my, Here it comes, Shadowed by your hissing tongue. You are glittered, Pinnacle bitter. Cloaked in pure white. Not a thread of disguise. Twinkle, twinkle, Buggy, rugged eye. Those razor touched lines, Translucent and caressed, Reminiscent and enmeshed, Like faded pale stripes, Hugging the armor of canvas flesh. Walking among these thin lines, Head down, musky powdered stench, Awaiting the inevitable rise and fall. Of the intangible crux of a hollow memory, Woven inside the synthetic fabric of the undelivered. Oceanic cold shiver, Piercing through our empty, untethered souls.
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Dec 1, 2016
Dec 1, 2016 at 11:32 PM UTC
Transatlantic Cricket.
i exist somewhere between the kick drum and the snare i am the blood thundering in our veins i am the rhythm that gives us life i am the 375 nanometers of ultraviolet light shining down on you i am the space between the notes and the silence before the drop i am oscillation, reverberation, undulation of bassline i am rattling ribcage from excess decibels i am titinnitus waiting to strike. 3,4-methylenedioxy-N-methylamphetamine,  Lysergic acid diethylamide,  tetrahydrocannabinol, ethanol, benzoylmethylecgonine; choose your poison so that you may enjoy me better i am the sweat that slicks our skin and keeps us cool i am the longing look that leaps from eye to eye i am mellifluous melody, motivator of movement, master of mind. i am the sea of strangers you find yourself lost in, minimally clad bodies moving in ways you didn't know were possible. i am the fire-poi spinner, the LED hula-hooper, the melbourne-shuffling madman, the obnoxious bro, the ancient hippie, the obviously underage girl, the idiot overdosing in the corner, and the person wearing more pony beads than clothes. i am the rave.
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Jun 1, 2014
Jun 1, 2014 at 3:01 PM UTC
Untitled
Auto-annihilation is stupid, It breaks hearts. And ruins lives, I hate that I was ever self-destructive, I rue the day I became entranced By its shadowy charisma, While alcohol spoiled my life: Poor Jo-Jo was right To warn her cherished daughter Of its insidious malignancy. I was one of the felicitous ones In that it didn’t entirely destroy me, But despite its lack of glamour, In comparison to other more romanticised intoxicants, It’s among the most lethiferous of drugs That stole from me What remained of my gorgeous youth.
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Jul 13, 2015
Jul 13, 2015 at 3:47 AM UTC
Ethanol Thief of Youth
It’s cold in here. Cold in her fingers In her toes In her nose In her chest. Cold icy fingers Crawling up her throat Ball into fists there But they don’t melt. Burning icy hot there, Freezing all the words there Adding Help and other desperate sobs To the lump there. You see, She’s had this blanket, This beautiful blanket she’s had since birth, And it was tightly woven, Stitched with love, And so so warm. And it’s always been there, When the coldness crept in, And she’d close her eyes And reach for her blanket. Even when the blanket started unraveling, Started sporting holes Leaving uncovered toes, She didn’t mind Because she was mostly warm anyway. And even when the blanket took on The smell of ethanol Blindly she’d reach for it, And Blindly she’d tuck it away, Because it still made her feel warm enough anyway. Well, she used the blanket Until there it lay in tatters Unrecognizable to her fingertips in the dark. So, she opened her eyes. The blanket wasn’t even a blanket anymore. Hadn’t this been the way it began though? She saw the disassembled ball of yarn That was her blanket Even before her blanket became a blanket So in a way, This blanket was really only Fancifully packaged yarn And that was all anybody could expect it to be. And yarn on it’s own Doesn’t do a great job At keeping little girls warm. She tried hard not to be disappointed, But she was. So as the ice crept up her calves, Into her tummy, And again up her throat, She closed her eyes and held herself. She’d let her yarn be just yarn, And wiped her own tears away.
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Nov 25, 2020
Nov 25, 2020 at 2:35 AM UTC
Mom
It’s cold in here. Cold in her fingers In her toes In her nose In her chest. Cold icy fingers Crawling up her throat Ball into fists there But they don’t melt. Burning icy hot there, Freezing all the words there Adding Help and other desperate sobs To the lump there. You see, She’s had this blanket, This beautiful blanket she’s had since birth, And it was tightly woven, Stitched with love, And so so warm. And it’s always been there, When the coldness crept in, And she’d close her eyes And reach for her blanket. Even when the blanket started unraveling, Started sporting holes Leaving uncovered toes, She didn’t mind Because she was mostly warm anyway. And even when the blanket took on The smell of ethanol Blindly she’d reach for it, And Blindly she’d tuck it away, Because it still made her feel warm enough anyway. Well, she used the blanket Until there it lay in tatters Unrecognizable to her fingertips in the dark. So, she opened her eyes. The blanket wasn’t even a blanket anymore. Hadn’t this been the way it began though? She saw the disassembled ball of yarn That was her blanket Even before her blanket became a blanket So in a way, This blanket was really only Fancifully packaged yarn And that was all anybody could expect it to be. And yarn on it’s own Doesn’t do a great job At keeping little girls warm. She tried hard not to be disappointed, But she was. So as the ice crept up her calves, Into her tummy, And again up her throat, She closed her eyes and held herself. She’d let her yarn be just yarn, And wiped her own tears away.
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57
Blocos, Bandas, or Escolas! Not only shows the world to play soccer- The country that sweats to let the world drive, alas! One who breeds sweet sweats- Ethanol perpetuates, There strives our Harry Potter. The solitary candy girl sings in the field, You can hear her in the afternoon- A black song of motivation that barely covers her guild. All this and many more, That gives human skin the bitterness of colour- They can be ignored driving downn Sao Polo inside a Maybach Saloon. The same sun, but not the same burn- Sometimes sipping Caipirinha in the beach resort, And then while harvesting with a difficult breath, a farmer gives up a life well fought!
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Mar 4, 2010
Mar 4, 2010 at 8:40 PM UTC
An Afternoon In Brazil...
It stuck to her lips- ethanol; Seeping through those crevices- wax-painted , yet supple, soft; Like the rest of her. Those droplets still dangled, Wavering- clenching; the bitter doses and their vibgyor spirals- spun; these voices needed to be hushed- so we decided to use a cigarette, to burn our souls …and hide behind the smoke; Now it was just us, those anaerobic strings of air,-spinning, the shadows slipping, across the walls- those rays of light softly reflecting …from her thighs; Her fingers trembled, Skin on skin- and fermentation- She stung; like vinegar, that promise of toxic sweetness still lingered; So we drove on, like empty vessels- Trying. Yet it didn’t exist.
0
Oct 13, 2009
Oct 13, 2009 at 11:48 PM UTC
Vinegar
Stuck in this empty place, with no saving grace. This world is so consuming, we think we know what we're doing. Without even thinking I blink and then I'm drinking Unconscious then I'm dreaming of a place that's close to heaven but I know I'm there cause I've sinned again. Take me out this dreadful place And bring me back to the party again. Let the ethanol drown my soul. Let the music be within me so I can drop to the beat that brings the heat, when I dance with my feet. So listen to the words I say, Cause the party queen doesn't come out during the day.
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Jul 8, 2015
Jul 8, 2015 at 8:50 AM UTC
Party Queen
coated in black tar a rat by the tail pull it out from your throat it's too weak to scurry pried from it's home let it go pick your poison drown it in a stream of ethanol the ghost of a rat No. clean the little creature feed it some crumbs watch it not grow make it yours house it in affection watch as it tames, no longer craving black tar let it go
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Feb 22, 2013
Feb 22, 2013 at 2:11 AM UTC
Fear
6 sides Latent enabler Counterpoint to truth, amorphic Dada to life Callous Birth Islands dripped in collagen Mystic, effortless life Tempests laden iota in tune Riven Licked flat, obtuse Crescent stench Pagan cells Hazard the thought Pick the Atlantic cherry Reach further than comfort Pushed & consumed Spirited paste Jesuit told in spheres Lament interest, matted quill Totem, Saxon tribe Inflections of hearsay And Swastikas on parade Guilt of the blacksmith, undecided The arms of tablets Ashtrays & tropospheric light Another page turned Capsules filled with perfume Loose skin lost in relics Temporal lobe Cautioned indignant Pardon the prose Sonnets dissolved in ethanol Caricatures of the fleeting Of our cities last broadcast Absorbed by times gone Glittered pestilence Canceling subordinates, powdered Semtex Soup of the sewer Lift the butcher above your head Nazca lines Suborbital Silk screen with ***** Horizontal qualm toward revulsion Incursion Calm, cued and cubed Lab coats coated in pharmaceuticals Base compound, ionic bond Covalent CNS Sympathetic vibration Default to nature To theorise movement Agitate intolerance, turbulence Beautiful thought Calculate causality Passenger of licked lips Token to latex Croft in ear, to taste Unlaced tips, rings of halothane Bliss Intrigued with obscurity
0
Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 1:33 PM UTC
Boerdijk–Coxeter helix