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"kickstart" poems
'Today, The Jay...' I open my eyes to see its a new day. Today, What's the day? Is it Saturday or Sunday? The only thing of which I'm certain Is that its not a weekday. So, What can I do today? Without delay, The first thing I do is get my tray Light a blunt to take the pain away. Inhale and exhale, Through the passageways. Chill. . . Then, light another, just because its today. I'm still in bed, but it's already a good day. I push the sheets and pillows out the way Then I get up to empty last night's fluids away. Then to the kitchen, wondering what I can eat today What can I do, to keep the hunger at bay? Maybe some rice and filet? A little something to kickstart the day. While the food preps, I go back to my tray. I smile and giggle as I sculpt my one true love, the Jay With me at any time, anywhere, in any form, on any day. Even though I'm already high; 'Hooray'. I still want another hit of the Jay The Jay, Hits, Without delay. Stays, When everyone goes away. Fades, All the pain away. My worries, It allays. My happiness, it brings to the fray. Keeps my mind, from going astray. Literally, takes my breath away. Causes, no form of decay Keeps me, from getting 'ire' Doesn't negotiate, doesn't parlay. Just good vibes, all the way. The love of the Jay; Isn't just a single foray. Its a constant exchange, Everyday. It's a feeling, that once attained, Nothing, will ever take its place. And there goes the tale of my day, Spent with my true love, the Jay.
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Oct 27, 2018
Oct 27, 2018 at 11:26 AM UTC
Today, The Jay
Alcohol you little devil My BFF You did it again Snook up on me from across the room and flirted, Unrepentantly Woooooo! I ****** love you! Love your pints, your halves, your cocktails, I crave your sweet wine breath on mine, I love, love, love you! My mind is hazy, crazy! We dance *** Karaoke! The special kebab with chilli sauce. Haha, stumbling, falling into the taxi Then... I wake and you are gone and your taste is all that remains, oh and the stains On my blouse and I wake beside another all too familiar friend “Hangover from hell” He laughs at me OH JESUS! PLEASE STOP! My head bangs from his taunts I need paracetamol, Coffee, double espresso Kickstart me , reanimate me! I wind my way to work looking like a car wreck Just want this day to end... But you have me, Alcohol you devil My BFF Will I see you tonight? Same time, same place? I’ll be there Yeay!
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Jun 14, 2014
Jun 14, 2014 at 8:17 AM UTC
HUNGOVER
*Some of my best friends are The tiny grey cells in my head For, without these tireless givers I should sorely want*..... For I've had..... The power to recognise the nurturer Who saved me countless times Who sewed my confidence at valedictory Gratitude to Mother...granting me first wings. The help of a few friends with proffered lifts Not many, but enough to light the way Takes but one spark to lead the lost Cannot discount the value of true goodwill. The sweet taste of that first, deep love Who showed the path to discovered delights Easy mem'ries...looking back, but ****** ahead Sighs painted on the ceiling in dreamy webs. The awkward trip down that rabbit hole Blue lady hanging pretty in the corner Flies trapped flimsy, on some terylene Many padlocks loom....to get gasping to you! The chance to slough off onerous habits Dive wholehearted into the universe's sea Gaps to kickstart joy and spearhead cheer Mentors pass the torch and believe in me! Yes, some of my best friends are NOT seen Most reliably spun inside this osseous shell They answer things and help me find my truth Thank heavens....selfless amity equals mercy. S T, 29 June
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Jun 29, 2013
Jun 29, 2013 at 10:15 AM UTC
Some of my best friends are.....
Once upon a time This was known as "the river of many fish" We are told this as children like it's a fairytale our parents, trying not to laugh as they tell us of a time long before their own when this was the place to be If you wanted to be somebody you came to the town with the name you can't pronounce and you could have your American Dream Newly free men and women arrived early and bright at our train station their sleeves rolled up and heads held high ready to kickstart their lives. The gears of industry were turning here in the land of wine and covered bridges. Once upon a time there was a trainwreck here a lot of people lost their lives even more lost their way as time rusted over the wheels of progress and our water once so full of hope and prosperity caught fire and burned for miles in all directions scorching the water, and suffocating the fish Today this is "the river of much pollution" We have always known it as such A town were depression is both a hereditary emotional and economic condition Where pessimism is our only tradition The train station no longer operates The free man's grandchildren's children are up before the birds trying to find a way to kickstart their high chasing the American Delusion "Ashtabula does not have a drug problem" The police told a friend of mine as her two year old daughter looked on curiously at a strung out stranger who wandered into their home and took their bathroom hostage for two hours He shook uncontrollably His eyes overflowing with emptiness By the time the cops showed up, he was long gone tossed back into the river The fish in this water have nothing to lose If evolution is true, we can sprout legs and lungs crawl onto dry land and breathe but the current prevents it here It's hard to see the glass as half full when you can't drink the water I suppose we could drink the wine instead and stumble inside of a bridge seeking shelter from the toxic rain
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Dec 20, 2009
Dec 20, 2009 at 4:10 PM UTC
River Of Much Pollution
Once upon a time This was known as "the river of many fish" We are told this as children like it's a fairytale our parents, trying not to laugh as they tell us of a time long before their own when this was the place to be If you wanted to be somebody you came to the town with the name you can't pronounce and you could have your American Dream Newly free men and women arrived early and bright at our train station their sleeves rolled up and heads held high ready to kickstart their lives. The gears of industry were turning here in the land of wine and covered bridges. Once upon a time there was a trainwreck here a lot of people lost their lives even more lost their way as time rusted over the wheels of progress and our water once so full of hope and prosperity caught fire and burned for miles in all directions scorching the water, and suffocating the fish Today this is "the river of much pollution" We have always known it as such A town were depression is both a hereditary emotional and economic condition Where pessimism is our only tradition The train station no longer operates The free man's grandchildren's children are up before the birds trying to find a way to kickstart their high chasing the American Delusion "Ashtabula does not have a drug problem" The police told a friend of mine as her two year old daughter looked on curiously at a strung out stranger who wandered into their home and took their bathroom hostage for two hours He shook uncontrollably His eyes overflowing with emptiness By the time the cops showed up, he was long gone tossed back into the river The fish in this water have nothing to lose If evolution is true, we can sprout legs and lungs crawl onto dry land and breathe but the current prevents it here It's hard to see the glass as half full when you can't drink the water I suppose we could drink the wine instead and stumble inside of a bridge seeking shelter from the toxic rain
Continue reading...
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Why be a writer when you can be a poet? Why tell someone you love them when you can show it? You can write all you want and you can say all you want, but it doesn't matter if you can't have a love affair with your piece. So let's make love and not war and not desecrate the name of peace in the name of war. The only wars that ought the be waged are those against those who oppress. Sadly those who oppress control the press. This world is in distress.I am a convoluted manically depressed hyperactive mess. I may be a nobody but my words will have an impact. An impact on those who made a pact to protect us, They will cower in fear at the boy with blood on his paper and ink in his heart. AND HOW DARE THEY SAY THAT MY POETRY SHOULD NOT BE CONSIDERED ART! I say we kickstart the next beatnik generation... And give these kids, some true... motivation.
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Jan 21, 2015
Jan 21, 2015 at 3:35 PM UTC
Writer's Walk Piece
You confuse karate with love. You punch, kick, and block. You master the form, Practice and practice. You remember the creed. Karate is not love. You don’t kickstart the heart, You can’t block love out, Or punch it into submission. I confuse love with poetry. I read, write, and dream. I master the edict of the pen, Recite and recite. I remember the sonnets. Poetry is not love. You don’t stanza the heart, You can’t make a metaphor out of love, Or personify it into breathing. When will we learn? When will you stop kicking Cupid? When will I stop serenading him? When will we stop this silly interpretation of love? I don’t know, But I’ll stop if you stop too.
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Jan 10, 2020
Jan 10, 2020 at 9:50 AM UTC
Love
Stuck on this path thats filled with deja vu I cant seem to break free to find something new Over and over the day repeats file in and take the same seat The weekend is my only reprieve a little bit of time for me to feel free This forever present monotony feels like my worst enemy Each morning i awake sick in bed maybe its because part of me is dead I just need a lively spark to kickstart my slowing heart Im in need of my drugs challenge, adventure and love Going through serious withdrawals it feels like sickness as the wilderness calls Nature is my holiest sanctum where I go in search of freedom I need to go get my fix its built me up brick by brick
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Jan 23, 2017
Jan 23, 2017 at 11:29 PM UTC
Withdrawals
A Kickstart in the morning Coffee at midday Latte in the afternoon An evening soda Caffeine running in my veins Dripping from my brow The scent of it in my nose It is a being Symbiotic to my self. Believe it or not, I hear it breathing inside, Compressing my heart Rhythmically to stay alive. Without it I'd die. Dependent but satisfied
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Sep 17, 2017
Sep 17, 2017 at 5:08 PM UTC
A Life-Giver Within
how do you feel lost and alone at the end of your dime someplace on the road between the here and the now out of smokes and outa luck barefaced to the carnival of night the day passes slowly into the vastness of the past hungry eyes puddled with traces of regret for all the places you've been and think you belong for all the treasures of the past yet to be plundered and all the sweetness to which your heart has succumb convinced of the need to find a home a place to breath easy you take a few tentative steps to the road in hopes of finding its easier than it seems to kickstart your old bones and write a new tale for you to sing how do you feel down here at the end of your last dime finger-licking good or foretastes of gloom waiting here for the prize you know aint comin' waiting here for the explanation you aint buyin' thin and looking a little like a ghost see you on the other side
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May 13, 2015
May 13, 2015 at 3:07 PM UTC
optional titles
Put your head against mine On Christmas morning Just before the Alarm goes off And your cats start marching Up and down in your kitchen And remember what it was like, Of the way Snow used to come down Outside where you used to live Leaving that taxi taking us to my parents Going up and down that hill Like it was trying to tackle A ski slope rather than a ride out, In particular when I knocked off All of the labels skidding down the road Leaving us guessing all the way down Whose present was who’s Much to the amusement Of both my father and brother, And on the way back When the taxi driver Couldn’t get his taxi going again And I had to help him Push it back up the hill In a attempt to get kickstart it, Totally defying gravity A lot like what your cats do Every morning.
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Dec 29, 2013
Dec 29, 2013 at 5:44 AM UTC
Christmas Poem for Cathy (2013)
*I love you Even after everything that have happened The feeling still refuses to die And it doesn't change No matter what I have tried... I tried to hate you, But it only made me cry. I tried to speak ill about you, But it only brought me pain in the end. I have tried to forget you, But everything around me Reminds me of you. Coffee, I can't drink 'Cause even that will kickstart the memories. I have lost the will To go to school Because of the simple risk That I might see you... I wonder if hypnosis can help me So I can forget All the memories That involves you 'Cause no matter what I do Then I'm still in love with you...*
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Mar 26, 2016
Mar 26, 2016 at 5:38 AM UTC
I Love You...
Call me twice By phone to phone Kickstart again fill in the noise Of cars and empty busses Passing on through ***** streets And solitude will give you truth But extravertial dreams pass by   And The Words pass by And the ticking clock stops And the doubts will end So Stay on the beat But don't be a fool Look down Oh Look down And turn east towards home For as the crow flies You're going on track So don't loose your head   With heartbreak rhymes Or by lonely walks Or not showing up Because you don't need it None of it All you need is to be you
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May 23, 2014
May 23, 2014 at 1:52 PM UTC
You're Missing
Funny.. How things just suddenly change.. Just feels like your life's been rearranged! So now you're not sure what to do..! Like you're someone else~just not you! But the changes are actually not that bad. Cause you found something like you never had..! So this is what I'm feeling now.. I wanna keep you.. I just don't know~ How?! You make me feel super good, I'm on cloud 9 When you're near~i know I'll be just fine!! Its crazy when we're apart.. Then you come home~ And kickStart my heart!! I do really miss you so very much.. Your smile, your kiss, and your Gentle Seductive Touch..!! Not to sure if I've said this to you..? But you're stunning~ and I hope all your dreams come True..!!
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Nov 30, 2010
Nov 30, 2010 at 5:11 PM UTC
miss you
You and i lets fry watch our minds dissolve. Edit reality by thinking strategically and using our will to form. Just try to hold back i know you want to react to every chemical forged By mens hands working to find the best ways to kickstart the mind and show us what were here for.
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Apr 8, 2011
Apr 8, 2011 at 9:44 AM UTC
Designers
A green chair in space, Is out of its place, Like the emerald button, haloed on you wall. Why are you longing for a Solid seat, That gravity ‘cannot be beat’, That you dare to face this heat. When You Could be free Wheeling in space Taking in the jumbled chaos all over The place as would a Child on A bouncy Castle. Your Garden is green, So why press the button And kickstart the process before your eyes, A process that had already begun.
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Sep 18, 2018
Sep 18, 2018 at 11:39 AM UTC
Green Thoughts
I'm restless and ****** off but ****** off isn't even really right because I'm not angry, I'm just not remotely content. Frustrated, but it's more than that and I'm unable to put into words the inability to fake more enthusiasm or happiness. I'm not ok with where I'm at not just in life, but literally, geographically. I want to pick up and run, run far away, fill up the tank and drive until I'm on empty, and I'm not sure if I'm referring to gas. Where would I end up and could I find some semblance of an adventure there, something to kickstart me back to life.
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Nov 11, 2014
Nov 11, 2014 at 2:55 PM UTC
Empty
With a name like Ruth You know she’s a babe Kickstart her heart And she’ll tear you apart Old in spirit Young in body ***** and dusty A compact, unclean model Buzz-box motor Straight down a highway She’s got sixty horse power She’s bucking bronco wild Guzzling gasoline Rocks out to old school rock’n’roll She’s a Saturday night special With a hippie ***** stamp Jealousy rips up the road And now I’m in a rage But it ain’t her fault I’m just materialistic Miniature but mighty, I don’t take her lightly And I don’t know if it’s likely, But I want that Ruthie to be mine
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Feb 14, 2018
Feb 14, 2018 at 3:53 AM UTC
Ruthie
my ***** heart is hungover overdue for a kickstart startled and ******* all for you, all for you.
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Jan 2, 2018
Jan 2, 2018 at 4:09 AM UTC
prohibition, broken elbow
I become fearful of thine own eyes, Unsteadied by my own presence. I condense myself into bite-sized portions. Submitted to chronic hesitance. My lips are chapped From not speaking true. My body lashed and badly bruised, From a prison hardened by fear Through the years, and still, ensues. Mentally, physically, I feel so old, Which transpires onto This life I hold. All the tales on aging I've been told, Have come to rest inside these bones. A chilled heart translates Into dead air. Kickstart your stagnation; Take a dare! Sometimes, you get caught up Upon the banks, unaware. Let your life of purpose flow, You have just this one to see where it goes. Pause and listen to the hum of your soul. What do you want? Let it be so.
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Mar 24, 2016
Mar 24, 2016 at 5:43 PM UTC
For the Anxious, Aging Warriors
A little thought just might engage your brain , kickstart. So capture it with a pen
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Nov 29, 2015
Nov 29, 2015 at 8:07 AM UTC
Poem (Haiku)
Call me twice By phone to phone Kickstart again fill in the noise Of cars and empty busses Passing on through ***** streets And solitude will give you truth But extravertial dreams pass by   And The Words pass by And the ticking clock stops And the doubts will end So Stay on the beat But don't be a fool Look down Oh Look down And turn east towards home For as the crow flies You're going on track So don't loose your head   With heartbreak rhymes Or by lonely walks Or not showing up Because you don't need it None of it All you need is to be you -------------------------------- Then Answer me once Without those bundled up words A year's been far too long for this For the secrets been spilled The music's been stopped All that remains is traffic and pain   And loneliness is no great friend So force yourself to marry that fool Do it just right In a pristine church To win some kind of forgotten duel Make some empty plans To catch up on friends Remember your missing days? You can count the past on ticking clocks If have the time to spare And do you look back? With teary eyes Or shorter breaths Or great regrets Do you stay awake at night Wishing you had just been you? Well strike yourself from the milk box signs Because you know I certainly do
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Oct 19, 2014
Oct 19, 2014 at 7:30 PM UTC
You're Missing / You're Found
Late one night between the streets I met the man you don't want to meet He had a smile and a backpack Coming from nowhere with nowhere to go At first I was afraid There was no light in his eyes But his voice was so hopeful He was the loneliest man I'd ever met They say we're all lonely here That we all go out alone And in the space between the words we know that death will ease our pain But he was There, still thinking he was Here He was looking for someone to take him home Or some whiskey to warm his bones He needed a touch to kickstart his heart In the dark he told me I had a light that shone down the night And smiled the saddest smile I'd ever seen I wanted to give him everything But you can't hold on to smoke Or give gifts to the dust
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Jan 12, 2013
Jan 12, 2013 at 5:01 PM UTC
Dead Guy
This is our song This is our story in our hearts Reaching out to kickstart Some strong fire in our minds We just gotta keep our souls and spirits alive Keeping something from you No longer And I hear a song within our hearts I know it might be simple But it’s somewhere to start Look beyond the horizon Into your bright glowing eyes See something, See a spark ignite Into a burning fire A burning fire When we used to dance Felt like a trance Now our song is over and so is the romance
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Feb 1, 2021
Feb 1, 2021 at 1:36 PM UTC
Our Song
No hope found in the heartless boat, Thinks it can't handle a little load Waiting for a sign to make realise, That it can slaughter that little goat Some witness the potential in this toad, Which couldn't see the big weapon float Get thyself a little kickstart smoke, Inversely which gets to heal the throat Hath been long since been used, Time to get that gun a reload Just switched itself in that lazy mode, Gotta get hasty on this $hitty road © Faisal Amin
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Sep 9, 2017
Sep 9, 2017 at 2:27 PM UTC
'Provoke Rhymes'