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"infective" poems
Sparkling, silvery, shades of grey. Skin, shivering, brain of dismay. Trees, trancing, bare naked sky. Patiently, pondering, preparing to fly. Wind, whistling, a dancing swoon. Sounds, serenading a sparkling moon.   Secret , system of the seasons. The rhythm of winter needs no reasons. Seasonal affective disorder, Justify this infective inorder.
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Jan 11, 2023
Jan 11, 2023 at 10:00 AM UTC
SAD
We like to dwell in our sorrows, thinking there will be no better tomorrows. This late-night passive aggression, that seems like every poet’s obsession. Oh why can’t we choose to be happy? When the colors are grey, to see beauty? Why must we feed each others' depression? That the world is ugly, full of suppression? I now choose to look a little deeper, seeing “pretty” does not make me weaker. I choose to look for a different perspective; I know it will be hard; misery is infective. But I know that I have a choice: To feel sorrow or to rejoice. I’ve lost chapters to grief and sadness, to realize and continue? Now that would be madness.
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Sep 2, 2013
Sep 2, 2013 at 9:44 PM UTC
Choice: Misery Infective
defeat is only an objective. as I lead I gain prospective haters hate through being deceptive the envy spreads like sheets infective while they creep playing detective wolve in sheep until their accepted their reasoning is subjective I just wait until they reach then disconnected their connective I'm a beast, I can't be infected work off pure instinct raw fear instantly detected human nature, to be expected my only actions moving forward is corrective i exceed all expectations with standing ovations, use to bring power to foreign nations outworking occupations make so much sense i get paid vacations my buildings, block foundations I empowered nations for generations
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Feb 18, 2016
Feb 18, 2016 at 10:59 AM UTC
Losers*
This will be the winter of my contentment I will shed regret and resentment I will finally get it I will not forget it I will shred this narrow point of view This prism of individuality It’s a prison in reality The world is a superorganism in totality I see intersectionality and finally find sanity My mind is now a GoPro I can view my life in slow-mo This is not the Truman Show This is real, I can feel it As this film reel flies by I steal a glimpse with these two eyes Before I meet my demise I will run with these two thighs I will squat 5 plate, I will lose some weight I will choose my fate Lighter than a feather because I have come untethered I float high among the weather, never weathered Renewed by cleansing rains You may call them hurricanes But that is a matter of perspective Positivity is infective So I will spread a vibrant virus From the Pope to Miley Cyrus I say nope to the winter blues This is the winter that I choose To sway to and fro with the flow To gratefully frolic in the snow
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Oct 26, 2018
Oct 26, 2018 at 10:15 AM UTC
The Winter of My Contentment
From my Dark Watcher series: Evil rage strikes forth from his soul, raw with the pain of rejection. Reaching out to callously feed on another. Caught in a web of deceit so lethal as to – infect the lives of the innocent with his poison. He cripples their future with angry words, painful blows, Castes them out with vile actions of revenge- destroying all their dreams. He tears at the last vestige of hope, till there is nothing but darkness, and despair, dragging them into the same pit of rage that swallowed him. Love and hatred embraced in a pitiful- dance of conformity,resignation in every step. Contagious venom leaks from one to another, creating a bane of evil, so corrupt, and secretive, the damage-sometimes irreversible. Kathleen M. Kohl/Levinski This may be difficult for some to read, as many shall see themselves within the written words, either as the perpetrators or the victims of abusive relationships.
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Jan 14, 2014
Jan 14, 2014 at 3:06 PM UTC
Infective
Some days I wish I were an X-men and not just an ordinary mutant. Some days I wish I had Magician level magic like Bink, just enough to negate other's. But then I look around; The Irish and English don't have it. The Pakistanis and Indians don't have it. The Chinese and Taiwanese don't have it. The Hutu and Tutsi don't have it. The neighbors in Bab Tabbaneh and Jabal Mohsen, don't have it. Why should I have it? We’re all just a bunch of Muggles. Maybe it's a good thing I don't have superpowers. I look around and in fits of frustration, in bouts of rage, I might destroy all the Husnock. I'm kinda glad now my only mutations are thoughts. Thoughts that I put here, viral like - infective memes - hemorrhagic e-fever. Outbreak? Snow Crash? Virulency? Survival rate? Epicenter? Futile epidemiology because I know exactly what and where I am.
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Jun 14, 2015
Jun 14, 2015 at 1:03 PM UTC
X-men Bink
Creatures of angelic grace, Hide their true demonic face, Spreading out across the earth, Further still with each new birth, Soulless beasts with no remorse, Parasites to each resource, Taking what was never free, Driven by a fallacy, Insects lining up for death, Drawing out their final breath, Nature will regain her hold, Once our bones have long gone cold.
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Sep 30, 2010
Sep 30, 2010 at 10:44 AM UTC
Infective
They say that the first cut is the deepest The other shots that follow are the cheapest How will you know where to go when those who know keep secrets I do not fear demons that go about randomly I am frightened of the demons that hide in innocence and act as friend of me. The poetry is in expression How a smile can be a frown perfectly stretched and kindly curved How those lies in eyes hide and appear as love in disguise How ecstasy can be easily confused as joy, pure gaiety Yes when frivolty is accounted for as a meal served free How the enemy can be so near - within thee Not knowing what the mirror keeps showing for the illusion keeps flowing Blinding a mind held confined in streets of the system Dancing to the beat, the rhythm Which is a euphon to the masters, an orchestra to the masses It is a show and performers do not know that they are masked in fake skin tone A world not their own, mind dictated by the men who boats and gold stole. Where do I go with this *** of gold? This *** of gold a soul of my own What do I see when the vision seems blurry? I am sedated by the infective syrups of delusion and secrecy Held between scriptures hereditary Morality and reality both in a fray necessary The gospel I search for is one of truth The wisdom I seek is of a world brand new I am fighting for the mind the vicissitudes of life took And I throw blows and pass death - I am off the hook.
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Nov 25, 2012
Nov 25, 2012 at 11:42 PM UTC
Vestige-Conquest
walking down the street airily, up comes a man so hairily telling me how unsofairily the world has been to him. you see my dear friend, our lives we must mend for we never know our end thus we pretend we live forever. death left its mark, a hardy spark, deep inside our heart vulnerable til the end. a stillness occupies the brain, an illness with all there is to gain that causes unfathomable pain-- mental illness, will I ever be the same? What I elected is fresh perspective: the world is not so defective, it just needs a new directive! one that is protective, completely unselective, and infective with love.
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Apr 4, 2018
Apr 4, 2018 at 10:29 AM UTC
random encounters
Have not seen them for quite a while Breaking like a thousand springs Its ripples spreading across a mile Touching heavens on butterfly wings! It’s infective in its length and span Cackling joyous like a thousand duck God would be charmed (not to speak of man) Its spell makes every man awe struck! It’s quite a while life is losing fun With faces wearing botox on stressed lip Not getting at least one when the day is done To give this soul a stronger fillip! I need your muscles playing around your eyes Your cheeks raised high for me to see Doing so would bring me double sunrise And live each day ever more happily!
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Sep 17, 2014
Sep 17, 2014 at 12:32 PM UTC
Duchenne
a plague it can be deadly it can be invigorating its what makes life vague its more of a medley very exhilarating an infective contamination it makes everything deteriorate famine will strike and while all hope is lost it still goes on ones vitals decelerate at the same time spike roads will be crossed and they will be awake before dawn this disease some call it death with that same breath i call it love and all of the above
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Jun 10, 2014
Jun 10, 2014 at 3:16 AM UTC
An Epidemic
It’s alright if you disagree Talk to me dismissively In a minute you’ll be missing me When I go on a giving spree Spread forgiveness and philanthropy Set political dissidents free Fight for humans globally Glowing with righteous indignation I ignite the fiery conflagration I assemble a mighty congregation To end divisive dehumanization I will broaden your perspective Shortcut your invective My spirit: infective My speeches: inflective My mind: introspective My method: incentive My solutions: inventive My course: corrective If I die I’ll leave directions I will write advanced directives To form an animal collective That sets a course for correction Then come back, resurrection To view the utopia I brought into existence before peacefully returning to a well-earned oblivion
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Sep 22, 2018
Sep 22, 2018 at 4:48 PM UTC
Just Saving the World