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"interject" poems
We find multiple ways to disconnect Where business and technology intersect We kick one another for cash When we need equilibrium for our economy Our morals disintegrate to ash And we trade away our autonomy But we don't dare reflect Instead we disconnect We turn people into symbols and numbers So we can more comfortably slumber After causing heartbreaking pain Through bureaucratic chains Because face to face Our heart will race And we'll examine our submerged morals That lie in the depths with the coral But our reflection is too much to bear So we cowardly choose not to care The only way we can feel ecstatic Is to turn people into demographics The Internet connects us But also satisfies lust And imitates human contact Which has a negative impact The feeling leaves us sated And we don't feel the need to change Our armor becomes plated And we shoot arrows from long range Because we don't like the idea of being one another We get used to the idea of not seeing one another We disconnect so we don't have to try We disconnect so we can slowly die The ****** disconnection continues As we find more violent avenues We utilize fatal instruments To ****** without the sense Of physically feeling The life we're stealing We stabbed one another with swords Until the bullets soared But we still needed more So we disconnected further And became satellite searchers Studying people through actions Defining them by faction We don't have any interest in their personality or flaws All we're concerned with is if they're breaking the law The law we wrote to tip the scales The law that makes us too big to fail A husband leaves his wife Disconnecting from her life She's left with a child To raise in the wild Until a drone drops a bomb On the struggling single mom She's not an investor So we'll just harvest her worthless life Who'll be her protector When she's near someone we don't like? We **** her from our computer That's the way we casually mute her We carefully cultivated a disconnect To treat one another like insects This mentality will infect Until we interject Once we finally reflect Love will connect
0
Oct 26, 2017
Oct 26, 2017 at 6:09 AM UTC
Disconnect
We find multiple ways to disconnect Where business and technology intersect We kick one another for cash When we need equilibrium for our economy Our morals disintegrate to ash And we trade away our autonomy But we don't dare reflect Instead we disconnect We turn people into symbols and numbers So we can more comfortably slumber After causing heartbreaking pain Through bureaucratic chains Because face to face Our heart will race And we'll examine our submerged morals That lie in the depths with the coral But our reflection is too much to bear So we cowardly choose not to care The only way we can feel ecstatic Is to turn people into demographics The Internet connects us But also satisfies lust And imitates human contact Which has a negative impact The feeling leaves us sated And we don't feel the need to change Our armor becomes plated And we shoot arrows from long range Because we don't like the idea of being one another We get used to the idea of not seeing one another We disconnect so we don't have to try We disconnect so we can slowly die The ****** disconnection continues As we find more violent avenues We utilize fatal instruments To ****** without the sense Of physically feeling The life we're stealing We stabbed one another with swords Until the bullets soared But we still needed more So we disconnected further And became satellite searchers Studying people through actions Defining them by faction We don't have any interest in their personality or flaws All we're concerned with is if they're breaking the law The law we wrote to tip the scales The law that makes us too big to fail A husband leaves his wife Disconnecting from her life She's left with a child To raise in the wild Until a drone drops a bomb On the struggling single mom She's not an investor So we'll just harvest her worthless life Who'll be her protector When she's near someone we don't like? We **** her from our computer That's the way we casually mute her We carefully cultivated a disconnect To treat one another like insects This mentality will infect Until we interject Once we finally reflect Love will connect
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67
I'm many coloured      and a perfect transcriber      and transmitter. I only listen, And do not interject. Whatever you say or write,      I record faithfully. At times, you may think I read your mind While it's in the clouds, That's autocorrect, But you push send. I'm the perfect ear, The ideal partner. I'll never willingly repeat Your heard and spoken secrets. You're the human.
0
Jun 25, 2015
Jun 25, 2015 at 2:58 PM UTC
Cellphone
My mother enters the kitchen, says that her hands are dripping, begs my father to finish his work at the sink.  I observe, for a moment, the expression upon her face which seems conflicted between a desire to laugh and a need                                                to feel clean. I interject that clearly her fate is to have dog placenta on her hands for all eternity. Her disgust and amusement seem equally to rise. After she has washed herself, she speaks of Ponyo's last intermission between long intervals of birthing to nap three fleeting minutes; another contraction gave way to a wriggling new mole who squeaked and groaned with bizarre endearment, seizing my heart and causing its mother's head, after jolting awake,                                                                to go limp. Mom says it's sad-but-sweet.  Dear dog has spent herself six times already in increments which, as they increase, draw her spirit still closer to a totally inevitable chasm of fled energy; as soon as she falls asleep, yet a new indignant mass of living parts swaddled in loose skin and wet fur shoves its way outward, forward, world-ward. Ponyo is not selfish.  Immediately after birth seven, she begins to lick her offspring clean and nudge it towards her belly, where it may feed itself. "Only just got a break, and already she's                                                                     back to work." I'm one of five children my mother has carried and raised--and for a human, five are many! I'm afraid to give birth even once, despite that a greater want of mine is to hold my own child someday.  I wonder if that is motherhood: discomfort and indecision concerning the worth of the effort in labor, in birth, in the weak moments thereafter-- stroking one's child's downy, collapsible head and feeling a need to protect her, to nurture her, that is more pressing even than the so- alluring whispers which Sleep may breathe-- and even beyond these moments, when I have said to my mother that I hate her (because to me, it was obvious that I did not, and was too callous, obtuse, and insensitive to think that she might just believe it) and then missed church the next day to stay with her when she felt ill and tired--if this is motherhood, I wonder.  It must be more even than I could ever have thought like wanting to laugh and to wring one's hands (and even just to go to sleep)                                                 all at once.
0
Apr 14, 2012
Apr 14, 2012 at 11:05 PM UTC
On Puppy Birth and the Nature of Motherhood
My mother enters the kitchen, says that her hands are dripping, begs my father to finish his work at the sink.  I observe, for a moment, the expression upon her face which seems conflicted between a desire to laugh and a need                                                to feel clean. I interject that clearly her fate is to have dog placenta on her hands for all eternity. Her disgust and amusement seem equally to rise. After she has washed herself, she speaks of Ponyo's last intermission between long intervals of birthing to nap three fleeting minutes; another contraction gave way to a wriggling new mole who squeaked and groaned with bizarre endearment, seizing my heart and causing its mother's head, after jolting awake,                                                                to go limp. Mom says it's sad-but-sweet.  Dear dog has spent herself six times already in increments which, as they increase, draw her spirit still closer to a totally inevitable chasm of fled energy; as soon as she falls asleep, yet a new indignant mass of living parts swaddled in loose skin and wet fur shoves its way outward, forward, world-ward. Ponyo is not selfish.  Immediately after birth seven, she begins to lick her offspring clean and nudge it towards her belly, where it may feed itself. "Only just got a break, and already she's                                                                     back to work." I'm one of five children my mother has carried and raised--and for a human, five are many! I'm afraid to give birth even once, despite that a greater want of mine is to hold my own child someday.  I wonder if that is motherhood: discomfort and indecision concerning the worth of the effort in labor, in birth, in the weak moments thereafter-- stroking one's child's downy, collapsible head and feeling a need to protect her, to nurture her, that is more pressing even than the so- alluring whispers which Sleep may breathe-- and even beyond these moments, when I have said to my mother that I hate her (because to me, it was obvious that I did not, and was too callous, obtuse, and insensitive to think that she might just believe it) and then missed church the next day to stay with her when she felt ill and tired--if this is motherhood, I wonder.  It must be more even than I could ever have thought like wanting to laugh and to wring one's hands (and even just to go to sleep)                                                 all at once.
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53
The frustration Do these feelings only flow through ink? Oh what a bursting soul that devours its own love inside such a collapsing frame That desire for touch, the affection that transcends the droning life of our spinning globe So insatiable; so confused Those lips were always a different being than the others Your path to interject into my timidly drifting course It burned the maps ever drawn up The only route from here on was ultimately to the conjured fantasy of a glorious victory for your love How idiotic; why is it you? I, such a wandering pawn in our time's game to see a magical land in your eyes
0
Sep 12, 2014
Sep 12, 2014 at 4:49 PM UTC
Wandering Pawn
I guess I’m okay… What more can I say? Forget it—never mind, You wouldn’t understand anyway, Would you even know what it's like? Inside a scattered disconnected mind, Employed to go on strike? Where indirect misdirect The sincerity at play, When sinusoidal chaos spikes And past meets the future present day? As paranoid points outlandishly connect At intervals of broken lines, Memory lost in recollect, An array of misshaped bells Internally infect the eternal confines Of infinite distributional decay, Parallels with no intersect, Streetwise cells with empty signs, Burned out lights, potholes, and landmines, Littered all the way. How am I to convey that all those times You let your mind wander away That I was reading, thinking, dreaming, Teeming, never idle, never strayed, Seeing, being, so far and away, Even the brightest intellect beaming, Could not grasp the feeling In the slightest of highest orders reeling, Wound unbound, or as it would be seeming, Imperfect, even to the disarray Of the tamest prefect, whose verdict Could not predict the reflect, For in this world, seeing is deceiving, As the lamest reject, defect, Increasingly decreasing, In simplistic bliss obey Crowned unsound fallacies That contradict all meaning, Hiding behind reality, the actualities Lest, protect the thoughtlessness perceiving, Let me stop you if I may... I must interject for I digress, What nonsense was I weaving? Forget it—I've lost my mind, I best be leaving, What more can I say? It's periodic I must confess, You probably don't care anyway, Yeah, yeah, I'll be okay, Until next time I guess, I wouldn't want to be misleading.
0
May 24, 2018
May 24, 2018 at 10:10 AM UTC
A Scattered Point
I guess I’m okay… What more can I say? Forget it—never mind, You wouldn’t understand anyway, Would you even know what it's like? Inside a scattered disconnected mind, Employed to go on strike? Where indirect misdirect The sincerity at play, When sinusoidal chaos spikes And past meets the future present day? As paranoid points outlandishly connect At intervals of broken lines, Memory lost in recollect, An array of misshaped bells Internally infect the eternal confines Of infinite distributional decay, Parallels with no intersect, Streetwise cells with empty signs, Burned out lights, potholes, and landmines, Littered all the way. How am I to convey that all those times You let your mind wander away That I was reading, thinking, dreaming, Teeming, never idle, never strayed, Seeing, being, so far and away, Even the brightest intellect beaming, Could not grasp the feeling In the slightest of highest orders reeling, Wound unbound, or as it would be seeming, Imperfect, even to the disarray Of the tamest prefect, whose verdict Could not predict the reflect, For in this world, seeing is deceiving, As the lamest reject, defect, Increasingly decreasing, In simplistic bliss obey Crowned unsound fallacies That contradict all meaning, Hiding behind reality, the actualities Lest, protect the thoughtlessness perceiving, Let me stop you if I may... I must interject for I digress, What nonsense was I weaving? Forget it—I've lost my mind, I best be leaving, What more can I say? It's periodic I must confess, You probably don't care anyway, Yeah, yeah, I'll be okay, Until next time I guess, I wouldn't want to be misleading.
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51
you keep tripping on eachothers feet and I'm just watching, wanting to fix it all but my solution is merely mine, not your intention and as we dine, you look in her eyes this is the part that I despise and I can feel the heat, every tap, every beat my racing heart and my ice cold glare breaks you two, eachothers stare you fall to pieces, the tension so strong you know I've held on way too long and you're just tripping on eachothers feet so much confusion my desire is not her solution and you feel my cold stare, my dead eyes breaking you in two to think that it could have been just me and you I crack your voice as I interject you see me tearing so you fall to pieces, the tension so strong because you know I've held on way too long and you two keep tripping on each others feet tripping as I watch wanting to dance into my sense of defeat by her I've been beat and her satisfaction now tears me her satisfaction is what wears me and you know I feel it, you feel it too so then I run, grab you, and sob and before you said goodbye I watched you try to grab the dinner check but your cash went short so you only covered her meal and I swear this mustn't be real and by now I'm trying to hold back, no more tears I almost did crack watching you two this was my biggest fear because I wanted to dance with you or simply the clarity that this is through
0
Nov 1, 2010
Nov 1, 2010 at 1:37 PM UTC
Tripping on Each Others Feet
A crowded room, I just dance, finding solice beneath the mask. Friends they chatter laugh and squee, every one enjoying humanity. Pulse is racing, words they vanish I can't stand this. I wish I could join the crowd and interject some interlect. Instead the panic steals the magic and now its to late, oh woe is my fate. Stuck inside my own head, is it time yet for my bed? Slip away quietly drinking my sobriety, hoping that next time my courage will win and I can finally play my part, instead of dancing in the dark.
0
Sep 21, 2014
Sep 21, 2014 at 3:36 PM UTC
Socially Awkward Me
You mustn't always interject, for it is not more auspicious to be considered a Fool than to affirm such suspicions, is it not? Defer unto thy knowledgeable peers and, if ye be Sage among the Like, thou shall be deferred unto.
0
Mar 7, 2014
Mar 7, 2014 at 12:16 AM UTC
Humility
Breathe in the freshness of the arduously picked commodity, That you hold between your lacquered fingers. Don’t let synthetic ingredients dissolve your thoughts and obscure your vision. The liquid remedy we sip is drenched, With pain and protracted nurturing Carefully fostered through inclement weather drink in the story that comes with it That fuels caffeinated conversations. Refined and defined leaving us blind to the painted secrets of lives that were once lead different lives intersect, different thoughts and opinions interject. Leaving lipstick kisses on the porcelain skin Sipping away worries and pain. Inhaling the smell of impelling advice, fragments of sugar coated anecdotes melt, integrating within, interfering with the raw, strong, sharp taste that can pierce through. the rare intense, earthy aftertaste is tainted with artificial garnishing, suffocating the fresh natural essence neatly contained in the teacup ready to serve and ready to present taking shape of the porcelain guise Don’t sprinkle it with processed collaborations of sugared doubt, Contaminating your imagination Manipulated by dainty voices Resonating in your head Like the delicate teacup You anchor with your soft hands Weighed down by the overly sweetened tea. No longer holding significance of the vast fresh fields it sprouted from Forgotten and drowned in the voices of someone else’s drum beat. cloudy vision reflected in the saturated tonic you sip elegantly, pasting a smile suppressing your own desires, under someone else's acceptance.
0
Jul 16, 2012
Jul 16, 2012 at 12:20 PM UTC
No Sugar Please
Breathe in the freshness of the arduously picked commodity, That you hold between your lacquered fingers. Don’t let synthetic ingredients dissolve your thoughts and obscure your vision. The liquid remedy we sip is drenched, With pain and protracted nurturing Carefully fostered through inclement weather drink in the story that comes with it That fuels caffeinated conversations. Refined and defined leaving us blind to the painted secrets of lives that were once lead different lives intersect, different thoughts and opinions interject. Leaving lipstick kisses on the porcelain skin Sipping away worries and pain. Inhaling the smell of impelling advice, fragments of sugar coated anecdotes melt, integrating within, interfering with the raw, strong, sharp taste that can pierce through. the rare intense, earthy aftertaste is tainted with artificial garnishing, suffocating the fresh natural essence neatly contained in the teacup ready to serve and ready to present taking shape of the porcelain guise Don’t sprinkle it with processed collaborations of sugared doubt, Contaminating your imagination Manipulated by dainty voices Resonating in your head Like the delicate teacup You anchor with your soft hands Weighed down by the overly sweetened tea. No longer holding significance of the vast fresh fields it sprouted from Forgotten and drowned in the voices of someone else’s drum beat. cloudy vision reflected in the saturated tonic you sip elegantly, pasting a smile suppressing your own desires, under someone else's acceptance.
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45
You’d have better luck storing rain in your mouth Steadying quiet clouds with your eyes Alive Mere perfection doesn’t exist I see No And the cake is a lie It’s the desire to interject And infuse Which I push against Yourself insinuating from which I hide This look says me Let me feel my feelings felt Or else there is no point left alive
0
Sep 3, 2019
Sep 3, 2019 at 11:31 AM UTC
Just Let Me Feel My Feelings
O LOVE! O LOVE! WHY ARE YOU EVER DEVOID OF LOGIC? Alexander K Opicho (Eldoret, Kenya; [email protected]) Mankind in its pathetic folly entice you in a dint of stupor Knowing not your true colour and texture Endeavoring to achieve glory in your mastery With the so limited human capacity In grey faith that you are a cradle of bliss But O love! Why are you ever crooked? Young men and women in strength of their sinews Toil day and night in ******* of humanity Praying and whining incantations with the hope for optimal love Ornamenting their bodies with diamond and bronze Fibre and silk ornamented to helm of providence In the foolish quest for love equillibria But in full stretch of your vice, you impish love You catapult all away to the shifted goal posts O love! O love! Why are you ever ruthless? You hate the learned but you favour the strong You hate professors but you favour the soldiers You hate the rich but you favour the agile You hate the lawyers but you favour the footballers You hate the pastors but you favour the ruffian You hate the whites but you favour the Negroes You hate the groomed but you love the ragamuffin You hate the chaste but you favour the mistress O love! O love! Why are you ever illogical? Love, I revere you for wickedness and irrationality In all of your history you scored sum *** laude In the duo as blend of your domain, Look; You never dwell in a genuine companionship You like where the couth will interject; Amidst fornication between married and single ones Amidst adultery in the triangle of foul compassion Amidst miscegenation between black and white Amidst infatuation between the whole and the lame Amidst conjugal appetite between the old and the young Amidst concupiscence between house master and houshelp Amidst immorality of married master over the wallowing servant Amidst libidos between literate teacher unto the peasant pupil Amidst disordered passion among the sly lesbians Amidst impious ********** among the suave gays O love! O love! You are the most wicked force! Love I am told; your colour is red You may be red or you may not be red But all in all, you deserve poetical veneration For your herculean ability to bend the most wise; In your force you made sagacious Shakespeare to bend In your force you made Princes Diana to bend and bend Bending downwardly stooping for Afawoyed the moor, In your stupefying dint you made Napoleon de Bonaparte To bend and bend downwardly stooping for Josephine Josephine a famed she-Casanova in the gone Paris Among the then humanity and the then animality, In your impairing machinery you set sons on their fathers In the roman empire of Antony and Ceaser In the scramble for Cleopatra, the Egyptian queen Beauty of her aquiline nose heavily hovered perhaps In the eyes of the Roman beholders The father and the son only to sent the empire To the love forlorn smithereens!
0
Dec 3, 2013
Dec 3, 2013 at 5:08 AM UTC
O love ! O love ! why are you ever devoid of logic ?
O LOVE! O LOVE! WHY ARE YOU EVER DEVOID OF LOGIC? Alexander K Opicho (Eldoret, Kenya; [email protected]) Mankind in its pathetic folly entice you in a dint of stupor Knowing not your true colour and texture Endeavoring to achieve glory in your mastery With the so limited human capacity In grey faith that you are a cradle of bliss But O love! Why are you ever crooked? Young men and women in strength of their sinews Toil day and night in ******* of humanity Praying and whining incantations with the hope for optimal love Ornamenting their bodies with diamond and bronze Fibre and silk ornamented to helm of providence In the foolish quest for love equillibria But in full stretch of your vice, you impish love You catapult all away to the shifted goal posts O love! O love! Why are you ever ruthless? You hate the learned but you favour the strong You hate professors but you favour the soldiers You hate the rich but you favour the agile You hate the lawyers but you favour the footballers You hate the pastors but you favour the ruffian You hate the whites but you favour the Negroes You hate the groomed but you love the ragamuffin You hate the chaste but you favour the mistress O love! O love! Why are you ever illogical? Love, I revere you for wickedness and irrationality In all of your history you scored sum *** laude In the duo as blend of your domain, Look; You never dwell in a genuine companionship You like where the couth will interject; Amidst fornication between married and single ones Amidst adultery in the triangle of foul compassion Amidst miscegenation between black and white Amidst infatuation between the whole and the lame Amidst conjugal appetite between the old and the young Amidst concupiscence between house master and houshelp Amidst immorality of married master over the wallowing servant Amidst libidos between literate teacher unto the peasant pupil Amidst disordered passion among the sly lesbians Amidst impious ********** among the suave gays O love! O love! You are the most wicked force! Love I am told; your colour is red You may be red or you may not be red But all in all, you deserve poetical veneration For your herculean ability to bend the most wise; In your force you made sagacious Shakespeare to bend In your force you made Princes Diana to bend and bend Bending downwardly stooping for Afawoyed the moor, In your stupefying dint you made Napoleon de Bonaparte To bend and bend downwardly stooping for Josephine Josephine a famed she-Casanova in the gone Paris Among the then humanity and the then animality, In your impairing machinery you set sons on their fathers In the roman empire of Antony and Ceaser In the scramble for Cleopatra, the Egyptian queen Beauty of her aquiline nose heavily hovered perhaps In the eyes of the Roman beholders The father and the son only to sent the empire To the love forlorn smithereens!
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61
in the grass lingering subtle. new life, seeks. life over distractions will you buy attentions? for me? i could try and persuade interjections to interject anomalies. false. in decay, blooming death. closer than your mother. unaware of the scythe speechless. despite selection phrasing perpetually simply put, arrogance tests my limits. carefully. picking out life from death a masterful game. monotonous. does the truth betray your senses? do your eyes smell? deliverance. ignorance for innocents. there are millions. billions. unstoppable. watch my back. we’ll both die. a rip in sound. feel the throat churn. erratic vibrations disorient the world they cannot understand us. poisoned perception of the native mind in struggle. in war. recovering and failing the same. thieving the motions. motionless. all to achieve deplorable fame dreadful.
0
Sep 16, 2013
Sep 16, 2013 at 7:58 PM UTC
Back? tea, riya?
If you let this architect interject My subject you'll dissect effectively correct I'll try to make it clear If you inspect or introspect with intellect these indirect Pretentious scribbles misdirect Collect your wits my dear If you elect I'll be direct No intended disrespect I don't expect that you'll reject A change of atmosphere If you accept I won't defect you mustn't reflect this henpecked insects unchecked neglect Tonight with luck I'll in fact infect You with a grin from ear to ear
0
Dec 31, 2016
Dec 31, 2016 at 7:35 PM UTC
Circumspect
When you interfere, I get an inner fear, that You should not be here But You interject, and I recollect The resolve You test, you know what's best You insist, and I resist To keep You at bay, in the same callous way I won't let won't let you in, I can't let you win To solidify my sin, the kind aside from religion, apart from illusion Adultery of the Spirit
0
Apr 10, 2012
Apr 10, 2012 at 10:34 PM UTC
Adultery of the Spirit
we are all digging graves under some distant hazy sunset, somewhere, anywhere. the sun never really truly sets. so what is left to interject with when anyone says something about suffering having no end?
0
Jul 26, 2021
Jul 26, 2021 at 12:10 AM UTC
brutalist 1
She was smoked salmon so spread Like his creme of the crop Smoking hot circles 0-0 0______No-No The points... Dots And shoe size petite___- The whole website To love and honor Whats in her moves The private Dancer May I never be dropped To be overly loved   I am not asking for more The score more or less can be The greatest dancer O yes, so many pretenders? More spread like_______ Mr ((Mayonaise__meeting Handsomely Hellman Falling into your embrace Tango-Tie I- Apple creme pie to phone U May I tango  4-U Sweet lips of mango Don't shed one tear Listen to what is said?  How her dance step to be read next year to be wed Like your hot rods and hubcaps near your bed choices To sweep me off my feet well said The tango soprano voices The Hub Rubbing my dancer's feet his treat Wildflower Salsa beat Emotional dance The Tango Graphically Cool______ design Contacts to sign To his excitement Steps are well worth the dividends Drinking tapas The fine tip of gratis Sign sealed and dance delivered In an instant dancing contract Two bodies dance as one__________* Flaming intertwined Brazilian Silky- hair Mr. May-0 tango pair Mr. Hellman merci beaucoup His desires came with the loop The mixture mango scoop May-0, not the May Day No clouds passing in grays So festive never passive Well made beaded Peacock Miss Marrietta The Birds of the feather Expression of sensual faces To impress the right man Distinctly dressed Explanation point May I interject my point______________ Tropical sandals high-point Tango dancers have a the certain way The lovely maiden Names day and age Eyes engage contest page He to her side fancy May- 0  in her Prime (Hello) Another Day-Oh! Don't move her dancer days to sail away Sea breeze perfect per day Her fancy dancer shoes not on layaway *       *       *      *       * In the now a dancer nowadays taking flight Every day always the dancer's way You Amaze so blessed Like your possessed *       *       *       *     Titans in a blaze How it may arise He was dancing to her movement ****** salsa To her toes up to her Tango lips amazing dips
0
Jun 1, 2018
Jun 1, 2018 at 8:15 AM UTC
May I Tango Mr. May-0
She was smoked salmon so spread Like his creme of the crop Smoking hot circles 0-0 0______No-No The points... Dots And shoe size petite___- The whole website To love and honor Whats in her moves The private Dancer May I never be dropped To be overly loved   I am not asking for more The score more or less can be The greatest dancer O yes, so many pretenders? More spread like_______ Mr ((Mayonaise__meeting Handsomely Hellman Falling into your embrace Tango-Tie I- Apple creme pie to phone U May I tango  4-U Sweet lips of mango Don't shed one tear Listen to what is said?  How her dance step to be read next year to be wed Like your hot rods and hubcaps near your bed choices To sweep me off my feet well said The tango soprano voices The Hub Rubbing my dancer's feet his treat Wildflower Salsa beat Emotional dance The Tango Graphically Cool______ design Contacts to sign To his excitement Steps are well worth the dividends Drinking tapas The fine tip of gratis Sign sealed and dance delivered In an instant dancing contract Two bodies dance as one__________* Flaming intertwined Brazilian Silky- hair Mr. May-0 tango pair Mr. Hellman merci beaucoup His desires came with the loop The mixture mango scoop May-0, not the May Day No clouds passing in grays So festive never passive Well made beaded Peacock Miss Marrietta The Birds of the feather Expression of sensual faces To impress the right man Distinctly dressed Explanation point May I interject my point______________ Tropical sandals high-point Tango dancers have a the certain way The lovely maiden Names day and age Eyes engage contest page He to her side fancy May- 0  in her Prime (Hello) Another Day-Oh! Don't move her dancer days to sail away Sea breeze perfect per day Her fancy dancer shoes not on layaway *       *       *      *       * In the now a dancer nowadays taking flight Every day always the dancer's way You Amaze so blessed Like your possessed *       *       *       *     Titans in a blaze How it may arise He was dancing to her movement ****** salsa To her toes up to her Tango lips amazing dips
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110
I'm hemorrhaging Bleeding confidence Hollow and deprived Striving to survive Caught between my apathy and dismay Severing the life I once carried within me Fill up my lungs with decay And pretend in a usual way I'm hemorrhaging Time to switch veins Here I am a zombie Is this how Jesus felt? Was once alive striving to help Now walking dead forgotten on a shelf Cast aside and sentenced An empty room in which to reflect A concentration camp Please, do not interject The chokee as she called it With all do respect I get sentenced to this place A place to resurrect The sentences are what I fear Revolving in my head They tickle trace and mock my face PLEASE DO NOT INTERJECT time to switch lanes, veins, valence, evade... oxygen in my head The oxygen in my brain Hemorrhaging The vain vane vein
0
Apr 7, 2012
Apr 7, 2012 at 6:47 AM UTC
Vain Vane Vein
He dusted off the old rocking chair & asked me to have a seat He'd tell me what he was doing there If I'd simply take a load off my feet I found this gesture laughable I would rather stand! Then listen to another word Uttered by this despicable Man! But His confidence eluded Him He knew I would protest & yet I saw Him conceal a grin At the denial of His request! At this point, I couldn't even move I could barely breathe He acknowledged my discomfort, said, "Very well" & took the seat! As He sat there callously, Scoping out the room He said He just could not believe The daffodils won't bloom! This absurdity helped catch my breath I quickly snapped to interject, **** the flowers! **** this place!" & turned to flee with great hast! This made Him chortle with much glee He barked, "Silly, girl, you cannot leave! I know you've known this all along, The Cottage is where your Soul belongs!" I felt so angry I could cry I hit my knees & pleaded: "WHY?! I kicked You out so long ago! Don't speak to me as if You know!" & this is where the story twists: He dropped His grin & stood up quick Now, controlled by His brown eyes Forced to hear His every lie: "I know that we have been apart, But that's no excuse to neglect your heart, & that is why I'm here again, to protect you from yourself, My friend..." & that's the moment I lost my mind To hear Him call me "friend" As if His love, I could deny! (So, instead, I was forced to pretend) But He already knew my tricks We played this game before All this time Our stubbornness Is the very quality We adored! So, while He tried to lecture me I quickly stoked a match I had laced The Cottage previously & dropped it on a kerosine-soaked mat! & as I laughed maniacally at the seconds we had left To my surprise He grinned idly As We slowly burned to death...
0
Jun 12, 2014
Jun 12, 2014 at 3:12 PM UTC
The Visitor (Part II)
He dusted off the old rocking chair & asked me to have a seat He'd tell me what he was doing there If I'd simply take a load off my feet I found this gesture laughable I would rather stand! Then listen to another word Uttered by this despicable Man! But His confidence eluded Him He knew I would protest & yet I saw Him conceal a grin At the denial of His request! At this point, I couldn't even move I could barely breathe He acknowledged my discomfort, said, "Very well" & took the seat! As He sat there callously, Scoping out the room He said He just could not believe The daffodils won't bloom! This absurdity helped catch my breath I quickly snapped to interject, **** the flowers! **** this place!" & turned to flee with great hast! This made Him chortle with much glee He barked, "Silly, girl, you cannot leave! I know you've known this all along, The Cottage is where your Soul belongs!" I felt so angry I could cry I hit my knees & pleaded: "WHY?! I kicked You out so long ago! Don't speak to me as if You know!" & this is where the story twists: He dropped His grin & stood up quick Now, controlled by His brown eyes Forced to hear His every lie: "I know that we have been apart, But that's no excuse to neglect your heart, & that is why I'm here again, to protect you from yourself, My friend..." & that's the moment I lost my mind To hear Him call me "friend" As if His love, I could deny! (So, instead, I was forced to pretend) But He already knew my tricks We played this game before All this time Our stubbornness Is the very quality We adored! So, while He tried to lecture me I quickly stoked a match I had laced The Cottage previously & dropped it on a kerosine-soaked mat! & as I laughed maniacally at the seconds we had left To my surprise He grinned idly As We slowly burned to death...
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It's not you it's me, I'm sorry this is how I be, It's just I have to protect, I know how some girls think and if I must, I will interject, I have to keep an eye out and keep what's mine, just that, I know it looks like I'm checking on you, But in all realness it's karma getting me for a past do, It’s not about you; it's about the deeds I've done, Coming back around and making me a paranoid one, I apologized for hurting your feelings, It was not my intention, with my sneaky dealings, I've never felt the way I do about you with anyone else, Finding out that I'm not believing that I deserve it myself, A constant debate rolls through my mind, Reasons to believe and also deny that it's the true kind, I say again it's not you it's me, I wouldn't have given you my heart if I didn't trust you, trust me, I never think of what you’re doing is wrong, when you’re not with me, But I know how tempting the world can seem and what it's like getting away with ****** deeds, I feel bad for hurting you, I don't understand why I do what I do, I just know I don't want to lose you, Never, for no reason is good enough for me, And I just want to let you know I appreciate you, Everything you do for me I just want to say I love you. Love, me.
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Jan 12, 2013
Jan 12, 2013 at 4:49 PM UTC
Not my intention
The plaza is filled with creeps Sitting along the concrete ***** smelly feet Untrustworthy gas station meat I lean up against the wall See a man who's very tall Beside an old lady who's about to fall Granny stumbles around, dazed and confused Doesn't even know which pills to choose Asks tall guy which ones to take Guy blows her off like candles on a cake I interject, "Can I help you, ya old hag?" Gran gran then opens the bag I gaze upon the pills The entire pack is filled Stuff like this could go for many dollar bills Granny says, "I need my Tuesdays." I tell her, "Lady do you even read due dates?" I don't know gran, you're on your own You're gonna hafta figure this one out alone Bus rolls up an somethins queer Some pretty sketchy characters filling up the rear So I take a seat up front, straight up Rosa parks Weirdos left an right with their ****** birth marks Guys with beards so long they could choke a man with em Mexi with a **** two others smokin with him Many oddities line all up and down the bus So I turn my frown upside down and try not to cuss
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Mar 2, 2015
Mar 2, 2015 at 11:59 PM UTC
The Plaza
It's 3 am again I hate that word... again it feels so certain so absolute that I might never sleep... again see? that's why I hate it and the way the walls feel too close together as though they could be listening slowly compressing the doorway to the bedroom so that it would be impossible to pass through that I might never climb between the soft warmth of those covers again... thick carpet is curling up between my toes tickling the tired soles of my feet as I pace again passing through the hallway towards the kitchen lurking shadows of appliances of which the tasks seem to escape me the gleam of lights on their many polished surfaces strolling through the living room open window letting in the night breeze to kiss against the skin I have not covered again I cross paths with the coffee table narrowly avoiding its sleek edges that interject into my nightly obstacle course so stealthily pausing in the single bathroom to admire if only briefly reflected light across her shoulders curve of her back down towards her waist and toes the color of eyes in darkness the shape of her face and nose how sweet how dark, mysterious quiet, brooding thoughtful that girl seems to be depending on the time of night light from the moon across her face we meet again again..
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Jul 25, 2013
Jul 25, 2013 at 3:32 PM UTC
Pacing the living room, possibly naked (Insomniacs Lullaby)
don’t interupt the cello as it sings harmony. just sit back in your chair and let the notes ring. the violin in your hand? let it rest on your knee. but the question which is always a question for me: when does one gain the confidence to weave a melody? *if we were meant to stay silent, then why do we have strings?*
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Dec 8, 2012
Dec 8, 2012 at 4:30 PM UTC
interject artfully
sometimes i watch the way that smoke curls up from a lighted cigarette and i want to hold it in my hands and curl my lips around it like the indie rocker boy who’s been staring at my friend from the corner. but the tar burns my lungs and i am too vain for yellow teeth and yellow fingertips and yellow eyes and black organs. i miss the way that you paid attention to me. you would be humming and pretending to be working and i would say one word and you would stop pretending and listen. unless you had your guitar out. nothing could come between you and your music and i could never come between you and her so i never even tried. coming in second was never really my style, you know that. so i watched you watch me watch you feeling the music until you gave up trying to read my mind and told me yours with the chords you played and i miss that. i miss the organized chaos that erupted from your fingertips that were not yellow like indie rocker’s who is now hitting on my friend because you always said that smoking was for losers, which is probably right if indie rocker is anything to go by. he’s nodding my friend away to a corner and we all know how the night will end. i will have to interject and bring her home and he will scowl at me because she is the prettiest girl in the room and no one can take their eyes off of her. she’s lovely in the way i always wanted to be but never could attain and i guess that i’ll just wait for another heartbroken punk kid who needs a shoulder to cry on. he’s usually indie rocker’s friend and he always wants to smoke. and it’s going to be two in the morning soon and i am sitting here in this place thinking about someone who already left me.
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Apr 5, 2015
Apr 5, 2015 at 5:30 PM UTC
vanity
sometimes i watch the way that smoke curls up from a lighted cigarette and i want to hold it in my hands and curl my lips around it like the indie rocker boy who’s been staring at my friend from the corner. but the tar burns my lungs and i am too vain for yellow teeth and yellow fingertips and yellow eyes and black organs. i miss the way that you paid attention to me. you would be humming and pretending to be working and i would say one word and you would stop pretending and listen. unless you had your guitar out. nothing could come between you and your music and i could never come between you and her so i never even tried. coming in second was never really my style, you know that. so i watched you watch me watch you feeling the music until you gave up trying to read my mind and told me yours with the chords you played and i miss that. i miss the organized chaos that erupted from your fingertips that were not yellow like indie rocker’s who is now hitting on my friend because you always said that smoking was for losers, which is probably right if indie rocker is anything to go by. he’s nodding my friend away to a corner and we all know how the night will end. i will have to interject and bring her home and he will scowl at me because she is the prettiest girl in the room and no one can take their eyes off of her. she’s lovely in the way i always wanted to be but never could attain and i guess that i’ll just wait for another heartbroken punk kid who needs a shoulder to cry on. he’s usually indie rocker’s friend and he always wants to smoke. and it’s going to be two in the morning soon and i am sitting here in this place thinking about someone who already left me.
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Some things they tell you When enlightenment is bleak With hardly any at all love can be discreet Heard you before when life was a mess. Processing now and it's hard to digest So much lost time and regret Too numb now to let ourselves to get upset. Too late now for anyone to interject Alas no cure the pain of reject
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Sep 27, 2025
Sep 27, 2025 at 10:07 PM UTC
Generation's
A stallion pure and thorough bred With sinewy limbs and a regal head Entranced a maiden:  coy, fragile Her naïveté peeking through her guile The touch of skin on skin, ablaze The arching back, the dreamy gaze Oblivious to the world around When hearts were lost and hearts were found They rode around without a care With hair afloat a back stripped bare Through wind and water, sky and sand They trod the depth and breadth of land Love melding with the sunset's hues With ochres, crimsons, lilacs, blues She held him firm as 'e sprinted on Her hands alive on 'is rippling brawn Both breathless, panting, fit to drop By a trove of aspen, came to stop They laid down on the cooling grass And watched the stars in heaven's pass. The moments' magic, in their midst Where gift of fate their presence kissed The sound of stillness filled the air To interject , neither could dare In the conversations of the souls No words suffice, nor phrases hold Each secret there that instant shared All love exchanged, and none was spared. By the morning sun, came duty's hail And both knew what devoirs entail To be with each , although they longed Of different earths, their loam belonged They thought, they planned, they tried devise But union came at a selfish price In a firm embrace they held on tight Accepting it was a time not right And bravely to departure led Through aching ******* good byes were said A part of each, with the other sent For a farewell isn't where love should end So holding on their transformed heart On the stage of life, resumed their part And each then took their separate way no matter what, wherever they stay for rest of time, they had had that day for rest of time, they had had that day!
0
Apr 14, 2017
Apr 14, 2017 at 9:01 AM UTC
What stays, what goes
A stallion pure and thorough bred With sinewy limbs and a regal head Entranced a maiden:  coy, fragile Her naïveté peeking through her guile The touch of skin on skin, ablaze The arching back, the dreamy gaze Oblivious to the world around When hearts were lost and hearts were found They rode around without a care With hair afloat a back stripped bare Through wind and water, sky and sand They trod the depth and breadth of land Love melding with the sunset's hues With ochres, crimsons, lilacs, blues She held him firm as 'e sprinted on Her hands alive on 'is rippling brawn Both breathless, panting, fit to drop By a trove of aspen, came to stop They laid down on the cooling grass And watched the stars in heaven's pass. The moments' magic, in their midst Where gift of fate their presence kissed The sound of stillness filled the air To interject , neither could dare In the conversations of the souls No words suffice, nor phrases hold Each secret there that instant shared All love exchanged, and none was spared. By the morning sun, came duty's hail And both knew what devoirs entail To be with each , although they longed Of different earths, their loam belonged They thought, they planned, they tried devise But union came at a selfish price In a firm embrace they held on tight Accepting it was a time not right And bravely to departure led Through aching ******* good byes were said A part of each, with the other sent For a farewell isn't where love should end So holding on their transformed heart On the stage of life, resumed their part And each then took their separate way no matter what, wherever they stay for rest of time, they had had that day for rest of time, they had had that day!
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