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"floodwaters" poems
There's a moment when everything accelerates And there's no questioning, things just are. Madly. Frantically. My mind gyrates; Playing wildly, dancing upon each single star. Blurred vision precipitates the tears As I freeze, knowing in my heart of hearts That each word falls upon belligerent ears, And takes second place to your townhouse art. What pain could Monet paint when floodwaters Rise, and it becomes clear that the clearest Understanding lies in the theatre's Eyes? The curtains fall to the finale's dearest Friend, and it's there I pretend that it's just a natural disaster, That this is a craft I still find hard to master.
0
Aug 4, 2014
Aug 4, 2014 at 5:29 PM UTC
Tears
You caught lightning in your mouth and kissed the world a thunderstorm All Four Winds bleeding out, moment by moment and stilling the night; instill it with silence. Infuse it with waiting bait our breaths-- _--The ocean's saline, and I'm surprised to say, it seems to like us. Lips can clamp or loosen, catch and hold or unleash. Choose one? it's catch-and-release._ I gulped wondering into my mouth and I spit out an omen. Dolmen smile fading now; twin teeth releasing floodwaters from this tomb door of a frown. Quell the squalling night; implanting our silence. Infused with surrender. Hold no breath. Anyway... We don't check on each other... _...or look at our neighbors._ Yesterday's just that, friend.
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Sep 12, 2025
Sep 12, 2025 at 3:19 PM UTC
Parts Per Million
The heavy downpour took longer, easily, it spread all over, the weight of water, drenched the ground, the plants.....it doused the body and silenced the mind. I stared at the gloomy, grayed horizon...while rain poured without end. the water level rose...and swelled, all active and dormant fears lost their tethers and darkened the floodwaters. It seemed, the sky really needed to cry. and here we are, humans, twisted...tangled up in the chaos of a grieving universe. With just thin raincoats and light scarves as shields, how do we escape the aftermath of life's heavy downpours? For lots of reasons, the sky disencumbers...and cries. sally b © Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan August 31, 2022
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Aug 30, 2022
Aug 30, 2022 at 9:45 PM UTC
Escape
I’ve got fifteen years tied in knots of green and brown and I have decided that it is time for a change of scenery. So I climb onto the roof and pretend I am a chimney, spewing smoke of blue and grey and lung cancer and voggy Hilo mornings. A helicopter circles overhead at an altitude of 805 feet, its searchlight catching the neighborhood lying spread-eagled on the living room floor, brutally desecrated and left bare-bones to die. I am a catalyst, an instigator, a cynic with a palm tree. Today I read an atlas and find naught but “A Hui Hou” scrawled across the pages in black pen. I burn the book, the bridge, and the old tires in the backyard. On Saturday it rained and the floodwaters took my bicycle. Sometimes I sit by the roadside reading Bukowski with hibiscus in my hair and Indiana in my eyes. Hunting dogs clash with rescue dogs at the house with the stop sign. The moon falls from the sky and engulfs the mynah birds and the plague. The floodwaters recede and leave a jigsaw puzzle on the slopes of Mauna Kea. “I am not afraid,” I say, “for I am only gravel.” I play the eight-bar blues on Fortieth and sing songs of drugs and missed connections. I am hit by a truck and a little gold car, but I proclaim myself immortal as I am flattened to the pavement. I am the Ki’i Pohaku beatnik, and I write of nature and nurture and the never-ending rain. Someone has painted my walls blue and my hands grey. So I pack my suitcase and run down the highway for seven thousand miles and all I see are mistakenly-numbered houses and blank maps and dead neighbors from families I used to know. There are torrents of rain now, forming puddles in the forest. I know the reason. It is twelve in the morning. The neighborhood grows obscure. We are demolished.
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May 5, 2011
May 5, 2011 at 1:13 AM UTC
the ki'i pohaku beatnik
I’ve got fifteen years tied in knots of green and brown and I have decided that it is time for a change of scenery. So I climb onto the roof and pretend I am a chimney, spewing smoke of blue and grey and lung cancer and voggy Hilo mornings. A helicopter circles overhead at an altitude of 805 feet, its searchlight catching the neighborhood lying spread-eagled on the living room floor, brutally desecrated and left bare-bones to die. I am a catalyst, an instigator, a cynic with a palm tree. Today I read an atlas and find naught but “A Hui Hou” scrawled across the pages in black pen. I burn the book, the bridge, and the old tires in the backyard. On Saturday it rained and the floodwaters took my bicycle. Sometimes I sit by the roadside reading Bukowski with hibiscus in my hair and Indiana in my eyes. Hunting dogs clash with rescue dogs at the house with the stop sign. The moon falls from the sky and engulfs the mynah birds and the plague. The floodwaters recede and leave a jigsaw puzzle on the slopes of Mauna Kea. “I am not afraid,” I say, “for I am only gravel.” I play the eight-bar blues on Fortieth and sing songs of drugs and missed connections. I am hit by a truck and a little gold car, but I proclaim myself immortal as I am flattened to the pavement. I am the Ki’i Pohaku beatnik, and I write of nature and nurture and the never-ending rain. Someone has painted my walls blue and my hands grey. So I pack my suitcase and run down the highway for seven thousand miles and all I see are mistakenly-numbered houses and blank maps and dead neighbors from families I used to know. There are torrents of rain now, forming puddles in the forest. I know the reason. It is twelve in the morning. The neighborhood grows obscure. We are demolished.
Continue reading...
51
A slow-rising migraine seeps into my head As toxic floodwaters that fill the rooms of my home, Seeping into my skull with powerful fingers Like heat-seeking needles to pierce the calm quiet Of a relaxed and peaceful reverie.
0
Dec 2, 2014
Dec 2, 2014 at 10:50 PM UTC
Double-Barreled Similes - Six
A father carries on his shoulders his 3 year old son, as the father walks waist deep in monsoon floodwaters seeking to escape the floods and carry his child to safety. Monsoon floods happen every year in India and every year people are in flood-distress. I wonder what is the solution to flood-distress? Better infrastructure like concrete drains linked to concrete waterways linked to reservoirs which save water for the dry season? I wonder who will build this infrastructure? How will this infrastructure be built? Who will pay for this infrastructure? The development of poor nations like India is a mystery to me. I wonder how poor flood-prone villages in India will develop the needed infrastructure to prevent monsoon flooding?
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Jul 21, 2019
Jul 21, 2019 at 7:36 AM UTC
Monsoon Floods in India
All I want is to dig you up Push you out of my skin like oozing pus, watch with intent and disgust as you slither away from my desiccated corpse I want you out of my head, I want you out of my heart; I can feel the home I made for you in them and that’s just it, it’s all my fault I wanted this It all flooded at me and the floodwaters never fell away Never ceased, constantly rising within my bones Growing, reaching outward, mighty waves built only to crash down upon a wavering shoreline I did this all to myself in the end and you were just a part This mess is all mine to mop up, so, I still cannot find all the words to mend my own scars and I still pick at the scabs and I still have not found the right way to dispose of your dying memory but it’s a start, a step that I’m taking to kick up some dust I'm sorry I just don’t think I can live with a definite noose around my neck Ready to step off some creaky chair at every notion of the lack of your affection DDD (11/9/2013)
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Nov 9, 2013
Nov 9, 2013 at 11:08 PM UTC
I Built This Home, I'll Burn It to the Ground if I Have To
We the people, floodwaters rising over Kansas City banks and marketplace levies, are channeled into rooms the size and shape of shadows to be given direction, to give direction; waiting our turn to be churned through turbines. Our mass is growing stagnant by this massive **** This feels like surrogate thinking. Our water is wasted on greco-roman men chopping up districts into blues and reds dividing and conquering the ocean.
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Sep 18, 2013
Sep 18, 2013 at 11:01 PM UTC
We the People
Erasure & Found Poem from "On Photography By Teju Cole in april 16th new york times magazine -- You were The fast moving disaster of a tsunami added to the slow motion disaster of a nuclear calamity Towns flooded Infrastructure wrecked Forests splintered more than 15,000 people dead. earthquake cut off my external power supply Floodwaters damaged my backup generators Disabled it's cooling system Overheating ensued Fuel in three reactor cores melted Releasing radiation Everyone saw The water coming in The roads swept away Towns and harbors destroyed Extensive documentary work was undertaken by photographers Of the ruins, Debris, Cleanup and relief operations The gut-wrentching scale of destruction The professionalism of the emergency crews The fortitude of the survivers The extreme uncertainty I feel in our current political moment helps me understand for the first time the curious twinship of mourning and premonition. Information about the tragedy Sorrow for the suffering it caused Gratitude for the work that makes sorrow visible Foreboding about the future. An alert flashes your phone Something terrible has happened Far away, a flood, an airstrike, Soon, there's footage of people picking through wreckage what used to be their homes It is easy to pity them Difficult to imagine this will be you Suddenly bereft of a solid place in the world. Listening to anything that touches on the sublime makes me apprehensive. Like The silence that greets us waking in the middle of the night
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Apr 17, 2017
Apr 17, 2017 at 12:57 AM UTC
Erasure & Found Poem from "On Photography By Teju Cole in april 16th new york times magazine
Erasure & Found Poem from "On Photography By Teju Cole in april 16th new york times magazine -- You were The fast moving disaster of a tsunami added to the slow motion disaster of a nuclear calamity Towns flooded Infrastructure wrecked Forests splintered more than 15,000 people dead. earthquake cut off my external power supply Floodwaters damaged my backup generators Disabled it's cooling system Overheating ensued Fuel in three reactor cores melted Releasing radiation Everyone saw The water coming in The roads swept away Towns and harbors destroyed Extensive documentary work was undertaken by photographers Of the ruins, Debris, Cleanup and relief operations The gut-wrentching scale of destruction The professionalism of the emergency crews The fortitude of the survivers The extreme uncertainty I feel in our current political moment helps me understand for the first time the curious twinship of mourning and premonition. Information about the tragedy Sorrow for the suffering it caused Gratitude for the work that makes sorrow visible Foreboding about the future. An alert flashes your phone Something terrible has happened Far away, a flood, an airstrike, Soon, there's footage of people picking through wreckage what used to be their homes It is easy to pity them Difficult to imagine this will be you Suddenly bereft of a solid place in the world. Listening to anything that touches on the sublime makes me apprehensive. Like The silence that greets us waking in the middle of the night
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53
There’s so much I wish I could say But as the dam holds the floodwaters It shall cease till the day breaks And the waves finally crash down below
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Dec 31, 2020
Dec 31, 2020 at 1:47 AM UTC
Dam
You call and say I'm aberrant You don't wanna be stuck indoors deviating I don't like your storms I miss your floodwaters I need an affectional sleet I miss your earthquakes Then you came with all your quaking You must think I'm an aftershock You must think I'm abnormal Now I can't find the volcanism without you Volcanism without you Queer and two Like the ingenue over slew Subthalamic and cuckoo And I'm dancing because you're undue Twisters ain't nothing when I'm betraying with ya Gay Do you mind if I steal a permafrost? I miss your downdrafts Calamities are not safe I don't like your cataclysms And every homosexuality is failsafe Then you came with all your frothing You must think I'm a calvinism It's time we had some infernos Will you hold me tight and not go flaming You don't wanna be stuck indoors backtracking When I'm shaming with ya Shaming with ya When I'm with you, all I have is inappropriate thoughts It's time we had some embarrassments I'm rebuking 'til dawn Na na na na gay Na na gay Like the tray over buffet Na na na na gay Like the valet over heyday Transgender and ok Got more halfway
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May 8, 2019
May 8, 2019 at 5:59 PM UTC
I'm Weird, So Just Don't Read This
"She...she. . . loves me! He says it just - like that! As if he had practiced it and had got it - down pat! Or as if he were saying: "Pass the coffee *** Or as if... ...I didn't! I watch him distorted in the coffee pat a short stout man a little man with a long face. I want to laugh but I have lost my laughter. "My...sister! My...twin!...The ***** "Go!" I tell him "...just: go!" He: went. She felt like an android or replicant rather.. She thought of her self now in the( "Absurd!" )3rd person singular as if she had fallen out of her self. He: gone. All those moments lost in time making love to Wagner's Tannhäuser ( screaming the house down ) always his laughter her music stars dancing over the Bridge of Sighs. A Santa incredulously in a gondola singing Santa Lucia. "So... me d'oh!" she hummed. This the little song of her self. "So mi doh!" trying to keep its head above the floodwaters of belief. Bladerunner rewound 99 times to that END. All those moments ...lost in time like( cough)tears in a glass of red wine.
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May 16, 2015
May 16, 2015 at 3:31 PM UTC
A GLASS OF RED WINE
my feet had barely greeted california when my face matched the new summer, cheeks blooming uneven, eyes green as moss and every face i glared upon avoided looking too long. walking through my least favorite airport chin high, silent and ugly and wet, i grieved for myself, i pitied my future, and mourned my past. something lodged in my throat screamed with more assurance and clarity and confidence than i have ever known "this is not where i belong!" i cried for my feet no longer squishing silica on white beaches old skin disappearing in tiny fish or kissing rainforest mulch, under-dressed in flipflops taunting flora and fauna and fate i cried for my skin, abused and bronzed exfoliated in world heritage parks, the first shower in days and oiled from water crossings in a run-down four wheel drive a beard of blemishes i didn't bother to hide. i cried for my ears, robbed of every accent, of the crashing waves and roar of waterfalls, or the same six songs played in every club in cairns and the pterodactyl screech of flying foxes. i cried for my hair, for my hands, for my nose. i cried for my mouth and my tongue and my legs. mostly, i cried for the death of laughter that started in the pit of my stomach and rose up like carbonation to my chest and my lungs and my neck and burst like floodwaters in dorrigo the elation and exhilaration and euphoria of being alive that spilled out of me in screams and shrieks and bubbled and flushed and insisted so fiercely so strongly so urgently that to relent was not even a choice but a right and then half a year later i sat dully in a fluorescent corridor at my transfer terminal feeling my heart retreat, defeated dreading the long months ahead promising nothing but drudgery and boredom letting the tears drip onto my boarding pass black ink lamenting, too and not a single person approached or spoke to me until i asked to wash away the moment with a diminutive bottle of *** a mile from the surface.
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Jun 19, 2015
Jun 19, 2015 at 2:37 PM UTC
SYD -- LAX -- JFK
my feet had barely greeted california when my face matched the new summer, cheeks blooming uneven, eyes green as moss and every face i glared upon avoided looking too long. walking through my least favorite airport chin high, silent and ugly and wet, i grieved for myself, i pitied my future, and mourned my past. something lodged in my throat screamed with more assurance and clarity and confidence than i have ever known "this is not where i belong!" i cried for my feet no longer squishing silica on white beaches old skin disappearing in tiny fish or kissing rainforest mulch, under-dressed in flipflops taunting flora and fauna and fate i cried for my skin, abused and bronzed exfoliated in world heritage parks, the first shower in days and oiled from water crossings in a run-down four wheel drive a beard of blemishes i didn't bother to hide. i cried for my ears, robbed of every accent, of the crashing waves and roar of waterfalls, or the same six songs played in every club in cairns and the pterodactyl screech of flying foxes. i cried for my hair, for my hands, for my nose. i cried for my mouth and my tongue and my legs. mostly, i cried for the death of laughter that started in the pit of my stomach and rose up like carbonation to my chest and my lungs and my neck and burst like floodwaters in dorrigo the elation and exhilaration and euphoria of being alive that spilled out of me in screams and shrieks and bubbled and flushed and insisted so fiercely so strongly so urgently that to relent was not even a choice but a right and then half a year later i sat dully in a fluorescent corridor at my transfer terminal feeling my heart retreat, defeated dreading the long months ahead promising nothing but drudgery and boredom letting the tears drip onto my boarding pass black ink lamenting, too and not a single person approached or spoke to me until i asked to wash away the moment with a diminutive bottle of *** a mile from the surface.
Continue reading...
47
Every night I have dreams Of storms Savage And ravaging Everything I love Tornadoes carrying off my mother Baby bobbing in the floodwaters Dad Under the logs of the house Calling out to me And I’m searching frantically Eyes on the sky All the time tasting the salt Of the rain The sting Of the cuts in my lips But there is no lightning In the storms in my mind Did I ever tell you I got struck by lightning Seven times? Once On the couch at your parents house The first time I felt your heart beat Next to mine Twice Fogging up the windows On a December night My tears on your shoulder Your kiss on my forehead The third time So far from home Wrapped in your jacket Smelling you on my skin As I fell asleep that night Four We were saying goodbye Without saying anything And two hours away I was thinking your name Five and six You pulled me out of mom’s car Took the keys Awake in the spare room All night long Braiding my hair Feeling my collarbones On New Year’s Eve You brought me home From St. Anthony’s Like nothing was wrong I was still beautiful in your eyes So you carried me upstairs Tucked me in Whispered love And it was only eleven Central time Then the seventh time I got struck by lightning My heart stopped beating I stopped breathing I said “yes” Imagining the day I’d say “I do” And designing my new tattoo You looked into my eyes Took my hand And said “I’m going to take care of you” “you don’t have to worry ever again” But now old fears come flooding back Love washed away like debris In the scenes from my dreams I’m looking for lightning And getting soaked On my porch in North Carolina Knowing I’ll dream of storms Again tonight Praying I’ll feel a little jolt From the dark beside me The voltage running through my skin Is the same as yours 500 miles away Asleep in Missouri
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Mar 19, 2012
Mar 19, 2012 at 4:02 PM UTC
Seven Times
Every night I have dreams Of storms Savage And ravaging Everything I love Tornadoes carrying off my mother Baby bobbing in the floodwaters Dad Under the logs of the house Calling out to me And I’m searching frantically Eyes on the sky All the time tasting the salt Of the rain The sting Of the cuts in my lips But there is no lightning In the storms in my mind Did I ever tell you I got struck by lightning Seven times? Once On the couch at your parents house The first time I felt your heart beat Next to mine Twice Fogging up the windows On a December night My tears on your shoulder Your kiss on my forehead The third time So far from home Wrapped in your jacket Smelling you on my skin As I fell asleep that night Four We were saying goodbye Without saying anything And two hours away I was thinking your name Five and six You pulled me out of mom’s car Took the keys Awake in the spare room All night long Braiding my hair Feeling my collarbones On New Year’s Eve You brought me home From St. Anthony’s Like nothing was wrong I was still beautiful in your eyes So you carried me upstairs Tucked me in Whispered love And it was only eleven Central time Then the seventh time I got struck by lightning My heart stopped beating I stopped breathing I said “yes” Imagining the day I’d say “I do” And designing my new tattoo You looked into my eyes Took my hand And said “I’m going to take care of you” “you don’t have to worry ever again” But now old fears come flooding back Love washed away like debris In the scenes from my dreams I’m looking for lightning And getting soaked On my porch in North Carolina Knowing I’ll dream of storms Again tonight Praying I’ll feel a little jolt From the dark beside me The voltage running through my skin Is the same as yours 500 miles away Asleep in Missouri
Continue reading...
82
Capitalizing on the cuts, Trench deep, hiding painful emotions as they seep. Playing peekaboo with blood that seems to trickle through veins, wishing only for it to course like the floodwaters of torrential rains. A noose tightly wrapped with imaginary hate, contemplating as a never blunted edge waits. Wanting only to release what cannot escape from inside, slowly deciding if it's worth it to.......try.
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Dec 20, 2013
Dec 20, 2013 at 12:57 PM UTC
Mustering guts
Imagine yourself knee deep in floodwaters. Imagine yourself rescuing an old lady and her cat from a burning building. Imagine yourself actually living in a gutter. Imagine a plane with no pilots. Imagine the moon, both sides. Imagine everything had changed; realize all of it has stayed the same. Imagine being drafted. Imagine war. Imagine the warmth of a room after coming in from the snow. Imagine a grave, a shallow one, for me, or you, or no one. Imagine health. Imagine longevity. Imagine vanity. With a knife to my throat, you ask my to say the alphabet from Z to A With a gun to the head, you ask me to count the productive conversations between the two of us Being that this hole belongs to me, imagine me lowered. Imagine dirt. On me. Worms, in my skin. Out of empty sockets and back in again through my ears. Forming a circle. Imagine me pounding, screaming to escape. Imagine red, blood. Imagine the end of the world.
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Nov 16, 2014
Nov 16, 2014 at 5:50 PM UTC
An open note to nobody
There is a time to Reveal, There is a time to Conceal. There is a time to Stand in the Light, There is a time to Search in the Darkness. There is a time to Will as we know how, and to Work with all the Might in our Arms. There is a time to Yield to the Storms and Floodwaters, and Surrender to the Thrills and Joys of the Fearsome Whirlwind. There is a time to be Silent and Distanced, and be Disciplined by Patience and Perseverance. But there will be a time when Perfection is Restored, Forgotten the Impossible Chasm between the Glimpses and Glances of the Desire for Oneness in the Eyes of All Given Us, And a Chorus of a Myriad upon Myriad of Angels shall Sing, And Life shall be truly Life.
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May 10, 2019
May 10, 2019 at 3:49 AM UTC
Temporality
There's a limit to your love  |  There's no limit to my love Like a waterfall in slow motion  |  Like the floodwaters in motion, or Like a map with no ocean  |  A vast and placid ocean There's a limit to your love  |  There's no limit to my love Your love, your love, your love  |  My love, my love, my love There's a limit to your care  |  There's a limit to your care So carelessly there, is it truth or dare  |  I thought it was there, is it truth or dare There's a limit to your care  |  There's a limit to your care There's a limit to your love  |  There's no limit to my love Like a waterfall in slow motion  |  Like the tidewater in motion Like a map with no ocean  |  Adrift on this calm ocean There's a limit to your love  |  There's no limit to my love Your love, your love, your love  |  My love, my love, my love There's a limit to your love  |  There's no limit to my love So carelessly there, is it truth or dare  |  You had it for years, these are my worst fears There's a limit to your care  |  There's a limit to your care
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Aug 4, 2017
Aug 4, 2017 at 1:53 PM UTC
Limit to Your Love (the Sad Duet)
angles of presupposed superiority in floodwaters i am thrown to you torched the abandoned barn in the middle of the woods with you last night you said you'd never forget it but you'd try and i said nothing to you
0
Jan 10, 2014
Jan 10, 2014 at 11:11 PM UTC
untitled 83
#*All these thunderclaps Yet all I applaud for is you All these floodwaters And my overflowing emotions All these rain noises Yet all I hear is your name*#
0
Oct 24, 2018
Oct 24, 2018 at 8:16 PM UTC
october 24
Abandoned, Stranded on my own, The pressure kept building, The floodwaters rose, You went and left me on my own, Fled this mortal coil, Now I'm broken, rust eternal, I'm corroding in my mind, You ******* left me stranded, I might have done the same, But this life held me like a briar, Hooked into my flesh, I could never escape, Though the hooks are falling out, Rotten just as I, Never could come soon, I'm doing in with doubt, I'm scared for my friends, Terrified for Family, This thing that I could do, The same as done to me, You ******* left me, Went without a word, I told you I cared, A brother you were, To more than your blood, A brother to me, Tears came as a flood, Now I'm a canyon, Empty and dry, I'm ******* empty and the alcohol isn't enough anymore, All of these memories, Would I be better without? I miss you so much, So very ******* much, I ask why but you could never answer, I can't answer, All I can say is I'm fine and I'm not, I lie with a smile, I hide all the rot.
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Jun 12, 2017
Jun 12, 2017 at 1:00 PM UTC
A Death In The Family
Good for Nothing I have been up for an hour now And I haven’t done anything constructive I threw on some ***** clothes Made coffee Took a walk When I got back, I turned my computer on It flashed its reminders and appointments “Do this. Do that.” Deadlines and commitments I clicked the little button that says “I’ll be there” But I’m not there I’m still here Guilt inexorably and surreptitiously Seeps through my defenses Like floodwaters through sandbags Showing me its mirror With its version Of who I should be But the dogs lie peaceful at my feet. The cool morning air caresses my cheek. The sun proclaims that the new leaves are a thousand shades of green. The birds scold me for sitting too close to their food.
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Sep 8, 2018
Sep 8, 2018 at 12:46 PM UTC
Good For Nothing
Today, I hope you realize how much you are loved And it sets off a spark inside of you that burns brighter each minute A spark that turns into a fiery warmth from the inside out to warm your hands and melt your pain into a wax candle of memories A fiery warmth that never goes out Not even when floodwaters rise to your chest Today, I hope you realize how much you are loved.
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Aug 28, 2018
Aug 28, 2018 at 9:55 AM UTC
A Spark
The sky was foreboding as we set sail Dark tendrils dominated the horizon And the telltale BOOM of distant thunder Predicated a storm we will never forget In defiance of mother natures fury We pushed on Uncaring and willing to face whatever Obstacles she dared throw our way Be it hell or high water We would not quit Neither the first disrupting sprinkle Nor the darkening gloom could dissuade The course we had set As a cool chill began to soak to the bone We yelled at the doom: "Is this all you have to offer? Nothing easy is ever good! This temporary drizzle Will never sour our mood!" As if in response a thunderclap rose And white lightning lit up the riverbank Illuminating the disappearing islands We had so stubbornly named Engulfed by the swell of oncoming Floodwaters filling the river to the brink Pushing us ever onwards towards Bank after bank Hoping to capsize or submerge our hubris For a monument to all who dared challenge Her wrath We yelled at the monsoon: "We see you there In the miniature big bangs And the millions of bouncing diamonds! We see you there In the rising depths of oblivion And the countless tons of tears! We see you there behind it all And we still love you Mother nature dear!" We yelled until we were mute We rowed until our hands seized We shivered until we were frozen We pushed on never to be seen
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May 15, 2017
May 15, 2017 at 4:45 PM UTC
Mother Natures Wrath