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"itis" poems
Is the happiness getting to you yet? Do you wake in the middle of the night in a cold sweat? The joy is infecting your mind but the foreign feeling is soon to be denied. You cough, you ***** You get a diagnosis. You soon find out... Your sick with happiness. -Aiyana
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Jul 30, 2014
Jul 30, 2014 at 7:46 PM UTC
Happiness-itis
The mirror reveals a face naked and bleak, the sweatpants have holes and the T-shirt is frayed. It'll be over in a couple of weeks. The hours spent escaping to Twitter speak to the test on the floor with a failing grade. The mirror reveals a face naked and bleak. The tissue rips across my salty cheek while my transcript laughs at the mess that I've made. It'll be over in a couple of weeks. I'll go to class tired and return home weak; won't even bother with the "good girl" charade. The mirror reveals a face naked and bleak. "It's fine, Dad. My predicament's not unique. I'll get my diploma, and all this will fade. It'll be over in a couple of weeks." Yet perhaps this last piece of paper I seek will only frame the path from which I've strayed. The mirror reveals a face naked and bleak; It'll be over in a couple of weeks.
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May 20, 2015
May 20, 2015 at 2:39 PM UTC
The -Itis
3 X 5 index card poems 3 smallish poems in five minutes ~ reheating honey can I make you something to eat? ***no babe, you know I hate to see you cooking, frying standing over pots and stirring sauces trying to brush wisps of bangs from your eyes   while wearing kitchen mitts*** What I would prefer is something leftover, reheated served with a smiling grin from my ear to wayover down under there, next to you <•> old words are better than than new ones hey, hi! how you doing, old friend? “yo, out of the hospital feeling so much better; had some kind of ‘itis’ which they cured with an ‘yisis’!” ***glad to hear; impressed by all those new big scientific words; frankly preferred your old ones,  that were rediscovered and reoriented in new ways in your poems verses; me? never better cause to hear from a man whose optimism has yet to meet a match that he can’t best,*** heals all our wounds <|> if you told me ***that I could spend three successive rainy days in almost all silence, perfectly contented by myself, i’d said you crazy,*** isn’t that true babe?
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Aug 11, 2018
Aug 11, 2018 at 12:53 PM UTC
3 X 5 index card poems
Derk! The Harold angels sing. The muffin is my savior. Jesus lies. Pacific Islands. The screaming of fires. Rulers. Words. Meters. Feet. The magnetic field is the only field. If I could trust baseball, I would. But cereals, Vonnegut, lies. -ectomy. The ubiquitous suffix. Suffixes make the world hell. -ism, -itis, -like, -tude, cease your silly constructions! Constructions are power I will smash bye bye now
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Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 6:51 PM UTC
Cowboy
Often, we men take for granted, That you've simply performed an edict of biologic cyclical reproduction. And not wonder of the incredible largesse that has befallen us. I am so profoundly transformed by the beauty of your love and your unselfishness. Though we men oft complain of the seemingly irrelative by-products of this process we go through, None can compare to the bloating, frequent urination, nausea, emotional turmoil, Weight gain, wacky food choices, back pain, impatience, depression, negative self-image, Waddle walk, belly steering wheel dilemma, inability to tie your shoes, hunger, Relationship insecurity, cornucopiate vomitus, skinny lady envy, clothes no longer fit-itis, Swelling ankles, chocolate cravings, diarrhea, headaches, pelvic pain, stretch marks, and what should be unlawful super odorous flatulence. What you've done for us in the space and time of nine months Is nothing short of the joyous miracle God has bestowed upon us. I am awestruck that the place I pleasure in most for its tightness and firmness, Was stretched beyond the limits of what I fear I will never be able to compete with. I love you as no other man has loved any other woman, My heart's eyes swell with tears, as it can not express or contain this overwhelming feeling. For the love I see in their eyes, the endearment I feel when they utter my name(Dad!) The gift of our three children, aside from the love of my God, and the fascinating adventure of our wedding and marriage, will never be superseded by any other joy; and for which I am forever truly and entirely grateful...!!! -----ChawzzyScript
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Feb 1, 2013
Feb 1, 2013 at 2:42 PM UTC
Thank You (To My Wife)
Often, we men take for granted, That you've simply performed an edict of biologic cyclical reproduction. And not wonder of the incredible largesse that has befallen us. I am so profoundly transformed by the beauty of your love and your unselfishness. Though we men oft complain of the seemingly irrelative by-products of this process we go through, None can compare to the bloating, frequent urination, nausea, emotional turmoil, Weight gain, wacky food choices, back pain, impatience, depression, negative self-image, Waddle walk, belly steering wheel dilemma, inability to tie your shoes, hunger, Relationship insecurity, cornucopiate vomitus, skinny lady envy, clothes no longer fit-itis, Swelling ankles, chocolate cravings, diarrhea, headaches, pelvic pain, stretch marks, and what should be unlawful super odorous flatulence. What you've done for us in the space and time of nine months Is nothing short of the joyous miracle God has bestowed upon us. I am awestruck that the place I pleasure in most for its tightness and firmness, Was stretched beyond the limits of what I fear I will never be able to compete with. I love you as no other man has loved any other woman, My heart's eyes swell with tears, as it can not express or contain this overwhelming feeling. For the love I see in their eyes, the endearment I feel when they utter my name(Dad!) The gift of our three children, aside from the love of my God, and the fascinating adventure of our wedding and marriage, will never be superseded by any other joy; and for which I am forever truly and entirely grateful...!!! -----ChawzzyScript
Continue reading...
19
Bitter pill picnic tables set to prepare the banquet Pilgrims gorge until pillow stuffed full of itself and doubt Doubled over tummy ache: dummy done did to itself -regrettably- Pillow fluffed and mattress flipped to fight the mighty itis
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Jul 29, 2015
Jul 29, 2015 at 11:03 PM UTC
Bitter pill picnic
I asked her, "Why is warmth wanted rather than cold? Why is warmth more respected when it burns and sears?" And she replied, "Sh! The normal ones will hear you and think you're crazy!" So I laughed Because you see (I am crazy) But Hm. We have not discussed this since And I'm beginning to think You've caught Normal too.
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Jan 31, 2014
Jan 31, 2014 at 1:21 AM UTC
Normal-itis
You defy belief Thanks dear I mean, seven in the morning and you’re sober Pub went on fire, early night Someday you will die a lonely man My God, that philosophy degree has done you good Why, because i state the obvious Exactly, we’re all going to die someday Not from liver cirrhosis No, you’ll go from nagging-itis Always the comic Being married to you dear, brings out the best in me Do you ever wonder why i left Have you left Yes, i’m now happy with Jeff Philosophy again, seven in the morning, you passing by I was concerned about you Jeff’s boring the pants off you No he isn't, he’s my rock Fancy a quickie Certainly not C’mon he’s a boring history teacher Jeff’s a lecturer It’s written all over your face, frustration my dear Our *** life is great *** to the Boer war, riveting Jeff is tuned into me Battle of Britain music, is that oral to Jeff Fucken hate you I see that look in your eyes Hate you You want me Shut up, lets go Will you be passing by again anytime soon Not if i can help it You sure, i don’t mind helping out Going for a romantic weekend with Jeff See you Monday then Only if i'm passing by
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Apr 6, 2015
Apr 6, 2015 at 8:33 AM UTC
Passing By.
You defy belief Thanks dear I mean, seven in the morning and you’re sober Pub went on fire, early night Someday you will die a lonely man My God, that philosophy degree has done you good Why, because i state the obvious Exactly, we’re all going to die someday Not from liver cirrhosis No, you’ll go from nagging-itis Always the comic Being married to you dear, brings out the best in me Do you ever wonder why i left Have you left Yes, i’m now happy with Jeff Philosophy again, seven in the morning, you passing by I was concerned about you Jeff’s boring the pants off you No he isn't, he’s my rock Fancy a quickie Certainly not C’mon he’s a boring history teacher Jeff’s a lecturer It’s written all over your face, frustration my dear Our *** life is great *** to the Boer war, riveting Jeff is tuned into me Battle of Britain music, is that oral to Jeff Fucken hate you I see that look in your eyes Hate you You want me Shut up, lets go Will you be passing by again anytime soon Not if i can help it You sure, i don’t mind helping out Going for a romantic weekend with Jeff See you Monday then Only if i'm passing by
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Aug 27, 2015
Aug 27, 2015 at 4:06 PM UTC
Passing By.
I stare up at the ceiling, cracked for I am not myself surrounded by broken promises, pity and empty wealth the perverse constants throughout my narcissistic days, I awake every morning to an alcoholic drug fuelled haze sleep deprivation my volatile Jesus licking my wounds, ignorant to my prayers, I express my shattered soul to millions, only for it to fall on ignorant ears that don't care [YEAH! YEAH! YEAH?] stitched up eyes, stitched up pride sensibility running away to forever hide capitalising on pain, that contagious emotion an obsessive by-product of loves caustic devotion f-falling for all the pretty ones injecting sultry thoughts in my sick brain //-/- f-falling for all the pretty ones dragging me through acidic pools of disdain //- LO' BEHOLD ANOTHER HUMANITARIAN CRISIS! Most personally known as COMPULSIVELOVER-ITIS! It sticks like spit, kills my sleep something I don't want but really need to keep and the desperation will make you a million but also burn you inside out - stuck in this loop of blackening silence it's a revolution of the broken heart so let's scream, let's SHOUT!!!
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May 2, 2016
May 2, 2016 at 1:41 PM UTC
Revolution Of The Broken Heart
Back straight reaching into the sky rooted like the tree Arms bent, palms open on twisted knee Stillness and quiet Not a sound Listening to wind sing its lonely song How birds add sweet music to dry air The brushing feel of blond hair Itis here where peace is found among the acheing soul Counting each breath untill the numbers fade In this moment a timeless grace
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Jan 13, 2015
Jan 13, 2015 at 9:46 PM UTC
Meditation