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"freezer" poems
Dusting off the rabbity that squirrely tempo anxiety, closing in with night. The irresistible pattern the irrational illogical fight a battle with one’s discipline, mirroring our might. I make it home a fluttering belly twirled and muttering, I tell myself tis alright! The damage done, and everyone, I’m just like them and millions more succumbing at the Devil’s door. And the taste, the burn, the healing calm, the shaking and the thinking gone. Knock one back, slam out another night is early, rock it brother, Tying on a swilly swirling buzzed-out brain and mind a twirling. . . “Ahhhh…” I feel better now, exhilarated, exasperation falls to stout resound; I pour again and knock it down! “Ahhhh…” Spinning now, not to say I’m spun but choosey choosing several a pun I see myself an accomplished one! Yes, that’s it, that is me, look upon with thoughts of glory yank open the freezer for glass that’s hoary. . . How cool am I? certainly not boring all night I’m here, pouring, pouring. . . Buzz subsides, thoughts slow too, lurid leering, slobbering swearing, stupid actions and nothing new? I lose the bottle, I lose my shirt, ***** on myself, pass out in dirt. Another night of drunken hero, time that’s wasted for kingly Nero. But who am I to judge myself? *I’m hardly worse than anyone else?* *
0
Jun 6, 2016
Jun 6, 2016 at 10:23 PM UTC
Alcoholic
I rolled out of bed to start my day, but the power was off my all electric home, as still as a grave. No coffee, or toast. The refrigerator not cold, the freezer started dripping the contents soon to spoil. No computer, no cell phone service! I began sweating profusely, no air conditioning to cool me. Not even a TV Emergency Broadcast Alert, to release this uneasy feeling of topsy-turvy . I drove into town seeking a pay phone, with not a single one to be found, gone the way of the dinosaurs, extinct now too I assumed. My old truck had no computer chips, most cars did and were dead in their tracks. I needed gas but the gas station pumps electric computer driven, all DOA to boot. The Nations electric grid had crashed, blacked out, stone cold dead everywhere. All heavenly satellites blacked out, expired. Everything computer related (and that is about everything), had ceased to function as had the electronic reliant world we had created.   The street throngs of dazed people walked around like zombies, clutching blacked out dead computer devices, knowing not what to do. Not even talking, forgotten I guess how to do that too. As dependently defectively programmed as the useless devices in their hands. In a panic I did awake finding that this scary dream world was indeed all fake, a nightmare of fearful unconscious thinking. My electric clock was still churning, It's music alarm blaring, birds outside still singing, my cell phone started ringing, it was merely another Robot call, Welcoming me back to the 21 century.
0
Jul 17, 2017
Jul 17, 2017 at 10:51 PM UTC
Dinosaurs and Devices
I rolled out of bed to start my day, but the power was off my all electric home, as still as a grave. No coffee, or toast. The refrigerator not cold, the freezer started dripping the contents soon to spoil. No computer, no cell phone service! I began sweating profusely, no air conditioning to cool me. Not even a TV Emergency Broadcast Alert, to release this uneasy feeling of topsy-turvy . I drove into town seeking a pay phone, with not a single one to be found, gone the way of the dinosaurs, extinct now too I assumed. My old truck had no computer chips, most cars did and were dead in their tracks. I needed gas but the gas station pumps electric computer driven, all DOA to boot. The Nations electric grid had crashed, blacked out, stone cold dead everywhere. All heavenly satellites blacked out, expired. Everything computer related (and that is about everything), had ceased to function as had the electronic reliant world we had created.   The street throngs of dazed people walked around like zombies, clutching blacked out dead computer devices, knowing not what to do. Not even talking, forgotten I guess how to do that too. As dependently defectively programmed as the useless devices in their hands. In a panic I did awake finding that this scary dream world was indeed all fake, a nightmare of fearful unconscious thinking. My electric clock was still churning, It's music alarm blaring, birds outside still singing, my cell phone started ringing, it was merely another Robot call, Welcoming me back to the 21 century.
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44
Keys. Shoved through the letterbox before I got up- in an envelope with a note: Could I (please) feed the cat… Gone away? Good for her! Car on the drive. Took a taxi. I think. To the airport? Didn’t say. ******* with rain- still, had best leave my shoes on the step just the same. Obsessed with cleanliness and hygiene- that’s why he left. Who, in their right mind, puts cream-coloured carpet in a…? Door. Not locked. Nearly fell through it. Strange. She forgot? Kitchen. Freezer’s empty, switched off. No cereal. No tins. Utility room. Spotlessly clean- twelve! two-kilogram bags of Go-Cat Complete. Planning to be gone quite a while. I think. Playroom. Packed up. Kids staying with Nan. She wants to redecorate before they come home? Great. A fresh start. I think. Bedroom. Suitcase on the wardrobe. Bought a new one? Smaller. Lighter perhaps. Makes sense. After all- she is travelling alone. I think. Bathroom. Pristine. Almost empty. Almost. Macleans and a toothbrush, in a glass on the sill. I didn’t think about that. Until now.
0
Sep 22, 2011
Sep 22, 2011 at 4:17 AM UTC
Keys
My sexuality is more fluid than water And cannot be defined By simple Text book definition terms Created by man To force me into a mold And put me in the freezer To stay there frozen forever As if I was water My sexuality is not me But it is part of me And did I not just say My sexuality is more fluid than water.
0
Jul 18, 2014
Jul 18, 2014 at 2:37 AM UTC
Sexuality
Stop resenting me For the way I shop The things I do To make sure My food is fresh I confess I feel blueberries In my fingers To make sure they are firm Not too ripe I confess I shake Cans of spaghetti and ravioli So that I know The sauce is not Congealed I confess I pull frozen waffles From the back of the freezer Less likely that they thawed And refroze into Oddball shapes I confess I smell trout Before I buy it Placing it against my nose In the most unabashed Way Spare me your hate About my consumer habits When I know it has nothing to do with Food As long as I bring you warm release In the darkness of your desires Pull your tangled hair the way You like Bite your darting tongue In mad hunger Deep appetite As long as I reawaken the Woman Primal animal hidden Within Turn your heat into a river For a long passionate Swim As long as I attend quickly to your Every ***** command The craving of your ****** Insatiable Demand Then I can squeeze french bread In quiet and peace I can sniff cantaloupes Without suffering ire Or grief I’ll take you tonight In that filthy way You like Until then Leave me alone I’m shopping.
0
May 25, 2014
May 25, 2014 at 6:15 AM UTC
Consumer Complaint
I went fishing with two witches Out in my new boat There was me, the witches Two black cats, and a little pygmy goat We sat out on the water The small odd group and me And in the first few hours Not one fish did we see The witches looked on skyward Grabbed hands to cast a spell They said that this worked wonders And then they both did yell Icarus, thickarus, giraffes and wild dogs Lizards, and giant gnu Bippity, Boppity, snakes and we wish An airborne callipoe stew Suddenly the water around the boat Started to steam, and then it did boil The sun disappeared, the sky went all black And the clouds went the colour of oil The witches both gathered the nets on the boat As the fish came on up from the deep They were out of the water and up in the air And through this the goat went to sleep Icarus, thickarus, giraffes and wild dogs Lizards, and giant gnu Bippity, Boppity, snakes and we wish An airborne callipoe stew Fish were around us, high in the air The witches waved nets as if mad The cats didn't move nor did the goat It was the best catch that I'd ever had After a while the sky turned to blue The witches sat back with a look We'd netted hundred of fish from the lake Now, they would have to be cooked Icarus, thickarus, giraffes and wild dogs Lizards, and giant gnu Bippity, Boppity, snakes and we wish An airborne callipoe stew I took the boat in, and docked on the shore With our fish all strung up just for show Everyone there asked what bait did we use? I just smiled, for they weren't set to know I go fishing with witches at least once a week My freezer is full and then some Their spell is amazing, it works every time They say it loud, and fish come Icarus, thickarus, giraffes and wild dogs Lizards, and giant gnu Bippity, Boppity, snakes and we wish An airborne callipoe stew
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Aug 1, 2016
Aug 1, 2016 at 2:57 PM UTC
Fishing with Witches
I went fishing with two witches Out in my new boat There was me, the witches Two black cats, and a little pygmy goat We sat out on the water The small odd group and me And in the first few hours Not one fish did we see The witches looked on skyward Grabbed hands to cast a spell They said that this worked wonders And then they both did yell Icarus, thickarus, giraffes and wild dogs Lizards, and giant gnu Bippity, Boppity, snakes and we wish An airborne callipoe stew Suddenly the water around the boat Started to steam, and then it did boil The sun disappeared, the sky went all black And the clouds went the colour of oil The witches both gathered the nets on the boat As the fish came on up from the deep They were out of the water and up in the air And through this the goat went to sleep Icarus, thickarus, giraffes and wild dogs Lizards, and giant gnu Bippity, Boppity, snakes and we wish An airborne callipoe stew Fish were around us, high in the air The witches waved nets as if mad The cats didn't move nor did the goat It was the best catch that I'd ever had After a while the sky turned to blue The witches sat back with a look We'd netted hundred of fish from the lake Now, they would have to be cooked Icarus, thickarus, giraffes and wild dogs Lizards, and giant gnu Bippity, Boppity, snakes and we wish An airborne callipoe stew I took the boat in, and docked on the shore With our fish all strung up just for show Everyone there asked what bait did we use? I just smiled, for they weren't set to know I go fishing with witches at least once a week My freezer is full and then some Their spell is amazing, it works every time They say it loud, and fish come Icarus, thickarus, giraffes and wild dogs Lizards, and giant gnu Bippity, Boppity, snakes and we wish An airborne callipoe stew
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52
1:11am: in my lungs you breed a pale disease you are even in the air I breathe 3:29am: heart in half chasing electronic dreams in technicolour screams your claws in my teeth as I drown out my whims 3:45am: and all the nights I spent lying in the freezer and all the little lies we wasted telling each other and even as you left I had not come around I was the reckless wrecking havoc on wicked ground 4:59am: last night I was flying around dazed and dazed and dazed all over awaiting my jewelled crown adorned with the prestige of an empire even in a new cage I could not throw you out 5:27am: even as the sun rises surely troubles stay the same even if you came back now I would gladly play your games even after all this while all the daze you left me in still you are imperial and my grailed heart it shakes like porcelain
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Aug 10, 2015
Aug 10, 2015 at 8:39 AM UTC
The Last Night (The Night Lasted)
Lightning Strikes 323 Norwegian Reindeer Hunters made the discovery, stealth and ***** dabbed anoraks all for nothing not to mention a critical downwind approach and camo blend that rendered Frode and Jørgen or Ove and Anders invisible against rock and lichen and cloudberry but offered little protection against thoughts sublime. Ove, perhaps, cursing God for poor sportsmanship, the divine equivalent of dynamiting fish, while Anders gave silent thanks to fortune, a freezer full of steaks.
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Sep 16, 2016
Sep 16, 2016 at 8:03 AM UTC
Lightning Strikes 323 Norwegian Reindeer
One day I built a snowman. I shimmered in the sun. It sat around, always smiling. Always having fun. One day most of the snow melted, But he was going to last. For a mountain of snow would never melt, Even if it went to the past. One day the snowman was still there, For it was built for my mom. With it's royal hat and carrot nose, It looked it was going to the prom. One day my brother's friends came over, Being crazy all around. The took a stick and pointed at the snowman, And knocked it to the ground. One day the base of the snowman began to melt, As tears filled my eyes. Yet in my freezer near the back, Is where it's head still lies.
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Feb 5, 2014
Feb 5, 2014 at 4:28 PM UTC
Snowman
I was turned on by a Toaster, she tanned my bread to gold In time she ejected me, it was her natural Toaster role... I fell for her sister, a Deep Fryer in despair, my lust began to boil I had to come up for some air... I ran off with a Can Opener, she could even sharpen knives, She opened up a can of *** whip, she could never be my wife! I met a **** Freezer, but her heart was cold as ice, I was bitten by her frosty ways Once bitten, never twice... I made my way across the tile to an Oven quite unique All her features were well displayed, on this EZ Baking Freak! She cooked me on the surface, yet burnt me deep within I guess my culinary skills were lacking in the end... So now I date a Spatula safely from the heat She flips a mean burger and french fries by the heap! Truth is I'm a Poet Who simply likes to eat!
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Jun 20, 2013
Jun 20, 2013 at 3:43 PM UTC
KITCHEN *******
Southern summer nights too hot swimming in a sea of humid drowning in a pool of sweat and sweet tea. Sweet tea like syrup dark hazel filled with ice cubed and perfect from an imperfect freezer tray. Frizzy hair glistening skin from a dull sun tempered by an Atlantic breeze. The moon shines full lighting the scent of the summer night. Honey suckle, hydrangeas, cotton textured dandelions like parachutes against the black night sky is a southern summer night.
0
Oct 10, 2010
Oct 10, 2010 at 10:49 AM UTC
southern summer nights
a love poem, of new & old, why I am the summer-man!^ summer is winding down, sky’s multi blues freezer safe stored in ziplock see thru bags, marked and named by hue, the where and the when, so when the eyes finally fail, when the squinting don’t help, when the good things those good blues aroused, poems, lush and morning thanks for being alive come-not-at-all, quite the opposite, these cold blues may help, to recall why it was worth breathing summer is winding down, so am I, the synchrony no accident, time, the Pharmacy kitchen calendar claiming another victim, willing or not, those cars and the blue eyed models, are now but blurred wishes and hopes, even these words, spoken, not finger scribed, for the keyboard a jumbled jungle of alpha-numerical of confusion hellish and my sons don’t come to clean up my pathetic messes, sending their little children, beloved concubines of my heart the daytime watcher, spanglish her native lingo, tho single words she’s pretty good at too, but that don’t help much; the grands, toddlers to pre-teens, the eldest a womanly eight, tries but soon frustration bored, slips away quiet like replacing her with her two year old sister, who knows her alphabet which ain’t an exactly a help, but her five pencils stored^ nearby, tagged with her name, awaiting her poems, her one true legacy try to imagine her as a grandmother, farseeing the day when she occupied this too too hard to-get-out-of-by-myself “easy” chair, making rhymes with her next-next generational  descendants, faint remembering the silliness sorcery that I secreted in her brain; zingo, bingo, lingo tango, ginkgo, jingo, ** ** oh no, oh no! ashes, gray hairy poppy is a silly, when he is not a grumpy, old man all fall down! which she acts out with giggles galore, adding a teacup embellishment, a creme fraiche pearly teeth smile topping, the day watcher agrees, verrry verrry funny, but time to me *** and take a needed morning ***** no poppy! no poppy! no poppy! no nap, no *** no ***** thinking the call out is for her, stomping her feet in an alternating rhythm and rhymes I, happy poppy, ecstatics drooling out, foreseeing the rhyme is strong in her, get wheeled away crinkled and crackling, *zingo, bingo, lingo tango, ginkgo, jingo ** ** oh no, oh no! ashes gray hairy poppy is a silly, when he is not a grumpy, old man all fall down!* a new genre me of gibberish summertime love poems
0
Aug 22, 2019
Aug 22, 2019 at 5:11 PM UTC
#1299 : a new & old love poem: I am the summer-man!
a love poem, of new & old, why I am the summer-man!^ summer is winding down, sky’s multi blues freezer safe stored in ziplock see thru bags, marked and named by hue, the where and the when, so when the eyes finally fail, when the squinting don’t help, when the good things those good blues aroused, poems, lush and morning thanks for being alive come-not-at-all, quite the opposite, these cold blues may help, to recall why it was worth breathing summer is winding down, so am I, the synchrony no accident, time, the Pharmacy kitchen calendar claiming another victim, willing or not, those cars and the blue eyed models, are now but blurred wishes and hopes, even these words, spoken, not finger scribed, for the keyboard a jumbled jungle of alpha-numerical of confusion hellish and my sons don’t come to clean up my pathetic messes, sending their little children, beloved concubines of my heart the daytime watcher, spanglish her native lingo, tho single words she’s pretty good at too, but that don’t help much; the grands, toddlers to pre-teens, the eldest a womanly eight, tries but soon frustration bored, slips away quiet like replacing her with her two year old sister, who knows her alphabet which ain’t an exactly a help, but her five pencils stored^ nearby, tagged with her name, awaiting her poems, her one true legacy try to imagine her as a grandmother, farseeing the day when she occupied this too too hard to-get-out-of-by-myself “easy” chair, making rhymes with her next-next generational  descendants, faint remembering the silliness sorcery that I secreted in her brain; zingo, bingo, lingo tango, ginkgo, jingo, ** ** oh no, oh no! ashes, gray hairy poppy is a silly, when he is not a grumpy, old man all fall down! which she acts out with giggles galore, adding a teacup embellishment, a creme fraiche pearly teeth smile topping, the day watcher agrees, verrry verrry funny, but time to me *** and take a needed morning ***** no poppy! no poppy! no poppy! no nap, no *** no ***** thinking the call out is for her, stomping her feet in an alternating rhythm and rhymes I, happy poppy, ecstatics drooling out, foreseeing the rhyme is strong in her, get wheeled away crinkled and crackling, *zingo, bingo, lingo tango, ginkgo, jingo ** ** oh no, oh no! ashes gray hairy poppy is a silly, when he is not a grumpy, old man all fall down!* a new genre me of gibberish summertime love poems
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57
Salamat! Ilang buwan na akong nagbibingi-bingihan at nagbubulag-bulagan Ang dami ng bagay at tao ang ginamit mo para ako ay malinawan Pero iba pa ring tinig ang aking pinapakinggan Yung mensahe na ang nais sabihin na ika'y layuan Kahapon natagpuan ko ang sagot sa katanungan Ang puso ko ay parang yelong inilabas sa freezer at natunaw Akala ko ang manhid ay forever nang hindi tatablan Lalambot rin pala sa kalaunan Salamat at hindi mo sinukuan ang tulad ko Na walang ginawa kundi umiyak at isiping kawawa ako Ang akala ko nga mensahe mo’y tapos na Ngayon ay may pahabol ka pa pala Una ang sabi mo'y lumapit sa’yo at kausapin ka Palalimin ang ating relasyon at ibigin ka Ngayon pinaalala mo naman kung paanong mabuhay sa mundong ito Na ikalulugod mo at ikabubuti ng tulad ko Paano bang hindi ka mamahalin? Eh ang dami mo nang ginawa para sa akin Hindi ko na tuloy alam ang gagawin Iaalay nalang sayo ang buhay at damdamin Salamat sa pag-ibig **** walang kapantay Sa akin nagpapaalala na masarap ang mabuhay Dahil mayroong nagmamahal ng tunay Ang buhay niya para sa akin ay inialay
0
Nov 30, 2015
Nov 30, 2015 at 12:20 AM UTC
Manhid
Bobo's kitchen in the kitchen icebergs rampage from the freezer burying pizzas and waffles in a glacier jungle Bobo swings forks and knives at the ice until the maintenance man cusses in Polish gallons of water dripping downstairs sizzling Bertalina's soul the fiery bilingual single mom living in fear below his fear of noise complaints she sends tape recordings to the landlord in her cute red faced anger loud people! and bongos! guitars! stomping! laughter! nightmares for her boys who think they hear ghosts her tight black spandex drives Bobo mad when she runs drifted scents of her food sift in through his windows knocking him out in hungry frustration! ¿Como estás? he asks her I speak ******* English! she barks back back up the stairs Bobo goes to his own kitchen where the mice crawl out the stove tops and potatoes grow tree roots clear through the window toward another life Jake Mahaffey Copyright (c) 2013 Jacob Mahaffey
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Jan 23, 2012
Jan 23, 2012 at 12:28 AM UTC
Bobo's kitchen
I simply cannot focus on my work as all these animals have gone berserk! Philippa, my darling girl, fill me in, who on earth is making that awful din? There’s an aardvark having a bath,    and a chameleon rolling dice, an eagle searching in the freezer    and a goose hiding in the hedge, an iguana eating our jam    and a koala juggling our lemons, a marmoset slurping noodles    and an octopus carrying paint pots, a quail wearing a ring    and a squirrel making the tea, a unicorn using the vacuum cleaner    and a walrus playing the xylophone, and finally Philippa, finally my girl,    a yak fidgeting with a zip! Where did they come from? I really don’t know, but very soon they will just have to go! I’ve had enough now of this awful din, thank you Philippa for filling me in!
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Aug 23, 2018
Aug 23, 2018 at 3:46 PM UTC
Philippa, Fill Me In
I'm  a bit like Brett I like my beer,  Senator Feinstein, Ha. Your name has stein in it, thats  like a beer mug, i dont have blackouts from beer drinking. It's the lack of that makes me forget. I don't remember much of this morning. Went to work got some **** done, I Don't think I molested any women, But it's all foggy. I remember going into DG after work. They got 15 packs for 6.95. Cept I vaguely recall creeping out. They were Out. Until i found three of them white boxes with red and blue lettering an A With wings insignia I'd  tucked in A corner of the store behind cases of Heinekens, out of my league drink, For just this situation. ******* patriotic Almost. I think it's doing my part to support this free-market capitalistic Economy. Like paying taxes. Better than voting. So you all can impune Kavanaughs Character all you want. I like beer so do he. So. Back to me. I couldn't wait for one. I'd put six in the freezer. And it had been ten minutes. I drank it lukewarm. And my memory came back. The fog cleared. Oh yeah, his problem Isn't that he loves beer Like I  do, it's that he was a punk upper class white dude who Pushed around young girls, laughed while he felt them up, Thought he was entitled to. That's over the line, even for Republicans. You are not like my justice. I am a justice of peace and integrity. Go drink beer, BRETT, JUST NOT ON THE SUPREME COURT.
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Oct 1, 2018
Oct 1, 2018 at 6:20 PM UTC
I like beer, too
we went to the supermarket, took our cameras to photograph homogenized colors like the milk in between poses, we played catch with the packets of fish ***** drew smiles on the condensation in the freezer aisle chased around the boy (code name platypus) with the Rolex. so we balanced: primary-colored bell peppers – on our heads and waited for the flash.
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Dec 19, 2010
Dec 19, 2010 at 11:00 AM UTC
Adventures of a Supermarket
You were taken, Stolen, You're gone forever, Never to breathe life again, Taken away for someone's sick pleasure, Lying in a shallow grave, It's so sad that you couldn't be saved. The second victim, Locked in the barn, Trapped in the dark, Stabbed in the heart, Dying on the floor  as she cried out, But nobody heard her, Now she's stuffed in a freezer with her insides cut out of her, It's such a shame that nobody could save her. Third victim, The captive now has serial killer status, Disgusting pride in that freaks cold eyes, First he stopped her breathing, Resuscitated her, Then proceeded with beatings, Causing painful internal bleeding, Just think of the demonic laughter the poor girl was hearing, The last thing she ever heard. Fourth victim, I think you get the picture.
0
Feb 10, 2011
Feb 10, 2011 at 12:26 AM UTC
Sick Pleasure
It’s really a feeble attempt to make something between one and five work in our daily lives. They have gone from an intriguing idea and amount of worth to a silly little gift grandparents hand out freely on Valentine’s Day along with a card worth more than the contents. They've never set foot in any wallet of mine; they simply always made their way back behind my socks. The valuable of least worth I owned was never spent strictly based on rarity. These days you are a mistake just like all the other rarer coins like that three-legged buffalo nickel only I could maybe pay a bit of college tuition with one of those. You can bring in about four Lira though; enough to get a big bowl of any kind of noodles and sauce they have down at that restaurant in Istanbul near the Grand Bazaar. That night I stopped a little closer to my hotel and spent my last four on a beer with my meal. We kept walking and saw that young boy shivering as always against the cold vents that produced less heat than my freezer back home. No change jingled in my pockets because I had eaten my fill. A thousand suns heated my back without that jacket but the warmth was bitter like stolen Turkish Delights. I couldn't tell if he was going to drape that jacket around his tiny body or have it stolen by one of the bigger kids. We still spoke though. I know that was the day I discovered the language of the universe.
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Apr 26, 2013
Apr 26, 2013 at 12:24 AM UTC
On A Two Dollar Bill
A cup of cold branch water, triple filtered, extra dry. Bring it to a rolling boil- in a moment you'll see why. Pour it into ice cube trays and place it in the freezer This recipe is tried and true- obtained from an old geezer. Wait two hours, then remove the ice cubes from their tray. Notice they are crystal clear, never cloudy cracked or grey. Place some in a six ounce glass making sure that none are wasted then add a single malt and sip the best ice cubes ever tasted.
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Aug 23, 2012
Aug 23, 2012 at 6:31 AM UTC
Perfect ice cube recipe
Southern summer nights too hot swimming in a sea of humid drowning in a pool of sweat and sweet tea. Sweet tea like syrup dark hazel filled with ice cubed and perfect from an imperfect freezer tray. Frizzy hair glistening skin from a dull sun tempered by an Atlantic breeze. The moon shines full lighting the scent of the summer night. Honey suckle, hydrangeas, cotton textured dandelions like parachutes against the black night sky is a southern summer night.
0
Jun 11, 2013
Jun 11, 2013 at 2:15 PM UTC
Untitled
I am ashamed, Sister! I live in a house, I want to renovate. Yours was bulldozed, now you live in a tent. I need a new car, trade the old one away. You lost your feet in a bombing yesterday. I sleep so cozy and warm in a king size bed. You find comfort in the cold hard floor instead. Something doesn't work out I'll complain to everyone. While you hide your tears when you lose someone. My freezer is full with samosas and pies. Your tummy sounds are muffled by rockets and cries. I open my fast with plenty food in my plate. You are thankful for that single date. I do some chores my back is sore. You lost your sons your pain is much more. My Eid clothes are bought, few hundreds gone. You were forced to leave with the clothes you had on. I need a few holidays throughout the year. You won't abandon your land despite the fear. I have everything yet I still want more. You just want peace, the end of this war. Despite all this you are closer to Allah then I'll ever be. So I am ashamed sister, ashamed for being me!
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Jul 26, 2014
Jul 26, 2014 at 2:50 PM UTC
Ashamed
1. I don't even know how to start this letter. Something within me just had enough courage to. 2. I always imagined this would happen without warning. 3. I know how much you hate reading, but can you at least read this. 4. I wish I could have been more honest with you. I should have never bottled up my emotions; now look at me, I'm a mess. 5. Can you laugh at my joke one more time? I really like the way your cheeks puff up and blush pink. 6. Have I ever told you that you have a nice smile? 7. Let's go to the park, I want to see the sunset before I go. 8. Thank you so much for spamming me memes at 3am. 9. I've been saving money for a special event, I'm doubting you'll like it. 10. When I was 11, on Halloween I finally gathered everything I needed in order to be Batman. Rope, blades and boomerangs. I kept them in a box just in case if I needed to use them in the future. 11. I came home on Sunday and found your favorite black scarf. I wore it tightly around my neck; I can feel your warmth, it even smells like you. 12. How can something you love so mush just disappear right in front of your eyes. 13. I can show you how we can be together forever. But it'll take more time for you. 14. I bought you your favorite ice cream, cookies and cream. I left it in the freezer. But remember, when it melts, I won't be there to clean it up for you. 15. Don't worry, I'll try harder next time. 16. You don't need to make me your famous mashed potatoes and gravy. I'll be out of town. But oh man, I'll sure miss eating that. 17. I love you more than you'll ever know. But I'm not sorry. 18. You don't have to bring flowers, I don't want them to set off your allergies.
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Jul 18, 2019
Jul 18, 2019 at 7:00 PM UTC
Lines From Love Letters or Suicide Notes
1. I don't even know how to start this letter. Something within me just had enough courage to. 2. I always imagined this would happen without warning. 3. I know how much you hate reading, but can you at least read this. 4. I wish I could have been more honest with you. I should have never bottled up my emotions; now look at me, I'm a mess. 5. Can you laugh at my joke one more time? I really like the way your cheeks puff up and blush pink. 6. Have I ever told you that you have a nice smile? 7. Let's go to the park, I want to see the sunset before I go. 8. Thank you so much for spamming me memes at 3am. 9. I've been saving money for a special event, I'm doubting you'll like it. 10. When I was 11, on Halloween I finally gathered everything I needed in order to be Batman. Rope, blades and boomerangs. I kept them in a box just in case if I needed to use them in the future. 11. I came home on Sunday and found your favorite black scarf. I wore it tightly around my neck; I can feel your warmth, it even smells like you. 12. How can something you love so mush just disappear right in front of your eyes. 13. I can show you how we can be together forever. But it'll take more time for you. 14. I bought you your favorite ice cream, cookies and cream. I left it in the freezer. But remember, when it melts, I won't be there to clean it up for you. 15. Don't worry, I'll try harder next time. 16. You don't need to make me your famous mashed potatoes and gravy. I'll be out of town. But oh man, I'll sure miss eating that. 17. I love you more than you'll ever know. But I'm not sorry. 18. You don't have to bring flowers, I don't want them to set off your allergies.
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