"maintenance" poems
My baby moves in jumps and flutters inside me,
like the barn swallows that make nests
of dirt and twigs outside the restaurant.
Yesterday they disappeared
and I learned that a maintenance man came and hosed them down.
Tragic, he said.
But necessary.
Too much bird ****
When I got pregnant
it felt like waking up at the top of a roller coaster.
And then an engagement.
Somehow
this is how my life is going
and somehow it does not feel like cliche.
Ask as many what-ifs as you want
but there is just a single trajectory.
Even though you have to fall asleep one day
before waking in the next.
Moving through concentric circles and trying to find the center.
Biology is happening
in a part of me that I am still getting to know.
Kaleidoscoping.
She was once the size of a grape
but now I read she can blink her eyelids.
She is also not like the barn swallows.
Jul 15, 2018
Jul 15, 2018 at 7:00 PM UTC
Got it buzzed
back to GI days.
A quarter inch
all over, I said
to the dubious barber.
It took some
getting used to
when passing
mirrors.
But now I love it!
I call it
my Monk's haircut.
No maintenance.
Wake up, perfect;
Swim, perfect;
Stroll about
in hurricane,
perfect.
Now I love
to feel
the wind
in my hair
that is
no longer
there.
~mce
Apr 11, 2015
Apr 11, 2015 at 10:17 AM UTC
~
*Setting out in the leaf boat.
What can possibly remain?
Fruit of the wild rose?
Hypnotica?
These little fictions:
petal and stem
—maintenance drugs,
turning strangers into friends
and friends into customers.
The only unforgivable thing:
snow catches on her eyelashes
and bliss is unaware.*
~
Jan 16, 2023
Jan 16, 2023 at 9:28 AM UTC
Didn't listen to a word they said,
Don't let it go to your head,
No sweeter than a siamese cat,
A pillow soft to follow that.
I am me I am honesty,
I am me to be honest highly modest,
To dress you up not incorrect,
As I lead you on that subject txt,
No sense of cure no maintenance here,
No in betweens to acetate fewer.
I am me I'm honesty,
I am modest to be honest.
To the people on the street,
In all my work friends up all week,
And in glory you appear,
At night you disappear.
I am me I'm honesty.
I am modest to be honest,
In private times asking this big question,
Its easy to sell in one direction.
A give or take its hard to make,
Give me one more big suggestion.
I am me I'm honesty,
I am modest I do promise,
I am me I'm honesty,
I'm getting away from my O'Reily office.
@O'Reily26102012
Aug 11, 2014
Aug 11, 2014 at 1:38 AM UTC
They Call It Heresy,
We Call It Genuine Science
We designed the genes' primers,
Ordered them along the oligomers.
Our aim is an elaborate one,
It involves molecular cloning,
Sequence characterization, and
Relative expression analysis of
Bovine Trefoil Factors.
Now we hope to clone the gene,
The gene which is of a bovine origin,
By extensive working hours input,
And bearing in mind the risks,
Of not getting the desired output,
The possibility of failure always therein,
But pregnancy, healing & immunity it's governing.
Three types of trefoil factors there are,
TFF1: It suppresses gastric carcinoma,
And also helps in pregnancy,
TFF2: Helps exclusively in cancer research,
TFF3: Helps exclusively in pregnancy maintenance,
And also our prime interest.
After cloning the genes,
We have to sequence them,
And after characterization,
We have to analyse them,
After relative expression.
Dec 8, 2016
Dec 8, 2016 at 12:40 PM UTC
if words are food for the mind,
then here is a glimpse of mine
if words are drugs for the brain,
then here is why i'm so pained.
abandoned, abhorrent
abnormal, absent
abstract, abuse
addicted, anxious
betray, bitterly
blank, blasphemy
bloodless, breakdown
breathless, brutal
captive, casually
catastrophe, cautiously
change, cigarettes
crucial, clueless
damaged, dangerous
deadly, disastrous
disheartened, disconcerting
dramatic, dreading
eager, eccentric
ecstasy, eerie
effete, effortless
embittered, excess
faded, failure
faintly, fallacy
faltering, fatally
fearfully, finally
garbage, gawky
gibberish, gloomy
gone, goodbye
graphic, gratify
hallucinate, harshly
hazy, heartless
hectic, helpless
hesitant, hit-and-miss
idiotic, idly
ignorant, intimacy
illogical, imaginative
infatuated, intoxicated
jealousy, jittery
journey, journal
joylessly, judicial
junk, juvenile
keen, killing
knavish, knocking
knockout, knotty
knowingly, knowledge
laborious, lacking
lame, languishing
lifeless, literature
lovelorn, lugubrious
madness, maintenance
make-believe, malaise
mean, melancholic
mellow, melodramatic
naff, naivety
nameless, naturally
nauseous, nebulous
neglected, nervous
oasis, objectionable
obliged, obliterate
oblivion, obscurity
obsolete, one-and-only
pacifist, pained
pale, panicky
paradise, paralyze
passionately, passively
raging, ranting
rationalize, raving
realistic, reasonable
rebellious, reckless
saboteur, sadness
sake, sameness
sanity, satisfactory
scar, steady
taint, tangled
tasteless, tearful
telling, temperamental
terror, theoretical
unaffected, uncanny
uncommon, unconsciously
undesirable, uneasy
unfortunate, untidy
vaguely, vanish
vanity, vanquish
versatile, vicious
violence, voracious
waiting, waking
walkout, wanting
wasteful, weary
withering, wrecking
if words are food for the mind,
then you've seen a glimpse of mine
if words are drugs for the brain,
then no wonder i'm so pained.
-djs
Aug 5, 2013
Aug 5, 2013 at 11:21 PM UTC
*blondes, brunettes and redheads,
the goodbye colors of the
street's tree choir members
and their leafy gowned denizens,
the good stiff chill upon them,
the selfsame chill
in my anguished mind
now hiding,
sing a comfort food song
heard above the quiet terror of the
noises of a fall winters-wind precursor
"once we green,
once we were renewal,
life everlasting emblems
once,
you were wee,
green uncaring and free,
presuming that you too,
were in possession of
life everlasting
your colors have changed as well,
endless is the process,
only slower than
a tree's scheduled maintenance,
moreover,
returning you to your first
crayon drawing youth
unlike us, an impossibility
we will turn young again
for many seasons more,
you
never will
new eyes will feast upon our
glories refreshed and love our
cast shade cast
yet special are you the man,
poet who was chosen
to see and tell,
witness to our resurrection,
during our overlapping,
parallel continuum in time
when to the shade of hades
you physic sent,
our limbs, our leaves,
our perennial lives,
for-as-long-as-they-shall-last,
will cover thy remains and
give your poems back to the
sultry summer breeze from
whence they came
and the colors
of your words
will be the colors
of a free life everlasting"*
Dec 3, 2014
Dec 3, 2014 at 12:43 AM UTC
Women are like cars.
You've got new models, classics, clunkers, and the rare ones.
Some won't get you anywhere, some will crash and burn, and some will take you for the ride of your life.
Some have nice headlights and others have junk in the trunk. It's not just the body that counts, you've got to look what's under the hood too. That's the real power of her.
When you find the right one for you, you have to put work into things for them to run smoothly.
You have to try to fix things when they go wrong, you can't ignore it or she'll break down on you. That means regular maintenance and taking care of her. She can sometimes get overheated, you just have to patiently wait for her to cool down.
You have to turn her on and warm her up to get her going. ;)
And if you're really good to her, she'll always take you down the road you want to be.
Feb 24, 2014
Feb 24, 2014 at 8:30 PM UTC
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
Jan 23, 2012
Jan 23, 2012 at 12:28 AM UTC
Went to the grave
this past Memorial Day
and saw it was covered
with mud.
With but a dish rag,
maintenance
didn't exactly leave a shine
behind them, walking
away as they massaged
their own aching backs.
Otherwise they could,
I don't know,
massage the backs that
are already broken.
"Don't graveyards have
maintenance-people for that?"
They are humble.
They like not to be known.
Jun 1, 2014
Jun 1, 2014 at 11:26 PM UTC
Why the ****
is seemingly everyone
so ******* slutty?
What the **** happened
to maintenance
of Integrity?
******
for the right words
or for the right look
or the right price
or the right Music
or the *right *****
the most important motivation to many
seems to be *Instant ******* Gratification*:
Please.
Such folly is childish:
Males and Females alike
seem to be equally Hedonistic
and selfishly manipulative:
What dissolute, reckless, selfish
Depravity of Sanctity
hath seized our Minds
with such wrathful, gluttonous, vain, lustful, and self-destructive
Epicureanism?
It seems to me
a Mind of Displeasure
recklessly seeks Indulgence,
and thus encounters overindulgence,
which then leads to overstimulation,
which in turn leads to depreciation,
which then manifests itself
as Debauchery.
Reputation
precedes you;
it follows you
as your social Wake;
Reputation
is the Name
for the Ripples
cast by One's actions;
Sometimes it is mere gossip,
rooted in vile, childish Spite;
but most times,
it seems karmic as ****
Aug 21, 2013
Aug 21, 2013 at 6:29 PM UTC
street cred makes a boy a man
able to take care of business declares manhood
then why are they actin fools around women
playen, traden and, braken hearts
forgetting that is someones daughter, sister, mother, etc
women give birth to men and are trampled on by men
humiliated, disrespected, disregarded, mistreated, abused and, neglected
all with a smile and honey coated words
sweat melting int he mouth bitter swallowing
disturbing to the stomach, difficult to ***** out
trapping women desperate for safety
proudly declaring: "i am man"
sealed with appalling behaviour
this is how i see the generation, from which i have to choose my mate from
party,high maintenance girls chosen
dependable good women ignored
this begs the question what is a real man
lots declare publicly, i am a good man
bias and subjected words to safe faded honor
honor
a word created to make ego taste better
Oct 25, 2013
Oct 25, 2013 at 4:38 PM UTC
Yuletide essays read poorly of spiritual love
Save of winter concerns of cold hands and feet
But to me my warmth is from within and without
From sensitive elements and looks of expectancy
All through the year I am loved and brought home by generous arms
Holding my tender heart with simple fingers of gentleness
At Yule my fears are ones of inability to conform
Yet I know that my love will be kept holding small edifices
Of temperate thoughts and radiant hopes
Lest our love is exposed to the winter blast
It has no maintenance worries as we stay locked
Deeply embracing through the chill of the night
In the mornings there may be white blankets of snow
Which drive others to feel isolation and loneliness
But here at Yule as ever our hearts are as one
Despite the dragging pressures of the seasonal presence
New Year is a triumph of milestone epic
Fantasising our minds with future conquerings
Especially as most are timid in their push for reality
Ours has been honed to supernatural levels
Although we look deeply into bringing these to bear
We know from our hearts these are just around the corner
Upon the very road we travel
Jan 3, 2011
Jan 3, 2011 at 7:50 AM UTC
You’re basic,
a lengthy silhouette
miming the human experience.
Staying up late
to blind yourself,
blinking to the sounds of sleepiness
heart beating to Skinny Love.
What ifs,
pre-recorded scenarios
imagining that first hug.
Contemplate that bottle of pills by the sink
that new film that you want to see,
condensation in the lid of the teapot.
You’re candid,
unsure if all scabs heal
trying to remember when you didn't have a writing callus,
when you slept through the night,
when purple was the only colour you didn't use.
Purify infectious matter,
***** green-blue wine glasses overflowing.
Tinfoil vases and orchid flowers,
melting boxes of 64 assorted crayons.
You’re laconic,
often dying to create,
like the verbose and the wordy
sighing simply to translate.
Missouri gift exchanges,
loose blue jeans ******
stacks of classics.
Tales of the Jazz Age wrinkling
to a slow 50s song.
You’re a try hard
dying to knit,
only true fear is disappointment
burning in the lime light.
6000 voluntary hours
linking syllables to daisy chains,
dropping pesos to foreigners,
hands sandwiched inside
the front cover and the first page
of The Count of Monte Cristo.
You’re basic,
down for maintenance,
compressing the weight of the atmosphere.
Jan 14, 2013
Jan 14, 2013 at 11:35 PM UTC
Conditional beyond reasonable
Is how our relationship sometimes feels...
More often than I'd care to admit.
My love is unconditional
And, therefore, can be easily used (abused?)
The value forgotten or blinded whenever I act human, imperfect, fragile or broken... Inconvenient I am. So are we all.
Where does your anger come from?
Taken for granted
Until you find something YOU miss.
Over and over again, this cycle persists...
Only according to your terms
Only if convenient
Only if it serves your sole purpose
Only if maintenance-free
Only if easy... Perfect... Not too much trouble...
UNTIL there is something you need...
From me.
Yes, boundaries are a necessity.
But relationships based on
Convenience for oneself
Are not relationships, at all..
They are one-way streets
Serving one person's agenda
Controlling, manipulative, self-serving, emotional toil...
And, somehow, always justifiable (in your eyes)
Because I am not who you want me to be...
I don't fit your "ideal" mold.
And you feel that is what you are owed?
(I honestly don't know...)
Except when you feel alone, afraid, or empty.
You don't dare lose what you can use! (abuse?)
But dare I say or do something amiss...
Your "conditions" will persist.
How do I say "stop!" when my role is to love, protect, and forgive?
Pain. What to do with all the pain.
If I tell, I will be blamed for my pain causing your pain...
This, my love, is NOT love.
No relationship of substance exists
When such rules and expectations persist.
Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 12:46 PM UTC
My biggest fear has nothing to do
with monsters, the dark, death,
or any of those usual frights.
No, my most intense scare comes
from the anticipation that one day
you may see me the same way
I see myself.
For you see I'm not the girl that guys
conjure up in their daydreams.
I could never hope to pass as one
of those flitty girly-girls who know
of quizzical things such as
make-up
cute hairstyles
or fashion.
My blemishes show, and honestly
I haven't a clue how to hide them
anyway.
I look at braided hair, beachy waves,
and effortless updos with envy
My hair has two styles: up or down.
I've never in my life looked casually cute,
and am obviously uncomfortable
in a dress. Please just pass me
my jeans and t-shirt back,
I'm much more myself in them.
How does one even walk in heels?
I'd like to think I'm one of those
"cool" girls that guys claim
they love, the low-maintenance
type chick, but I don't think
I'm "cool" at all, really.
When guys describe those chicks,
they do things like
play video games
quote Star Wars
read comic books
like some ideal gorgeous geek.
Well that's **** sure not me either.
I **** at video games,
love Star Wars, but
I'm terrible with movie references,
and have never read comics.
Does manga count?
I'm kind of starting to get into that...
I'm not the nerd's epitome of perfection
either, the everyman's ideal.
So what am I? I'm just boring,
little ole me.
I love to read, and would rather
spend the night reading
or watching something than go out.
I'm shy and self-conscious to a fault,
so don't try bringing me around
friends, I'll just bring you down.
Honestly, I'm basically a child. I love
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
Gargoyles
Tom & Jerry
Animaniacs
and cartoons in general.
I'm quiet and contemplative, often caught
writing in my notebook,
detailing my observations
about the world around me.
I have a ***** mind and a messed-up
sense of humor, giggling
of the worst times occasionally.
But all in all, I think of myself
as pretty boring. Laidback,
but with the most capricious of moods.
I'm both low and high maintenance.
I don't know why you think positively
of me, but I anticipate the day
you realize I'm really nothing
special at all.
The day you discover the truth
I already know all too well.
Jul 26, 2014
Jul 26, 2014 at 3:56 PM UTC
By accepting the terms of this agreement, you represent and warrant that you have the capacity to love.
Any similarity to a previous love is circumstantial; this love is not affiliated with other loves.
We assume no responsibility for for the shortcomings of prior loves;
we do, however, assume all responsibility for any loss, error, or communication failure incurred while in possession of this love.
It is, after all, love.
Love is available as is; no specific results are promised.
If you are at all unhappy, you are encouraged to return love.
If you find love to be damaged or defective, well, it's love.
Slight imperfections are to be expected, and add to the character of love.
Love may occasionally send you poems, letters, or declarations of its continuance. If you wish to opt out of this correspondence, you may cancel your account at any time.
The service may be temporarily unavailable from time to time; this may be due to maintenance, or periods of reflection. It in no way implies or forecasts termination of love, unless specifically stated so.
By accepting this agreement, you agree not to abuse love by acting in a manner inconsistent with the provisions listed above.
(please say yes)
Feb 9, 2011
Feb 9, 2011 at 2:19 PM UTC
Do not follow skewed signs,
logic leads
home.
-
Somber skies ******
desolate drives.
Surrender to sunset.
Tonight time is
infinite.
Lone hills roll
endlessly.
Sold
souls in exchange
for open
roads.
-
"MAINTENANCE REQUIRED"
Stop,
for nothing.
Dec 2, 2014
Dec 2, 2014 at 12:57 PM UTC
*I am a high-maintenance client.
I am a sad scared little girl.
I am an angry rebellious teenager.
I am a self-reliant woman with above average intelligence.
I am sad and small.
I am overbearing and demanding.
I am questioning and untrusting.
I am sarcastic and amusing.
I am outgoing and reserved.
I am determined and strong but also fearful and weak.
I am honest but withholding.
I am compassionate and giving and yet also hard and cold.
I am stubborn and willful.
I hide behind the facade of a woman I want to be.
I feel nothing and too much at the same time.
I am the life of the party but never really present.
I am beautiful crystal on the outside but shards of broken glass on the inside.
I will endure a hurricane to take away someone else’s pain and turmoil
and yet I cannot seem to do the same for myself.*
I am the product of a man who wanted me in controlling and abusive ways.
Oct 29, 2013
Oct 29, 2013 at 9:16 PM UTC
oh, wow, it's bright out today
there's color everywhere, people shining smiles at you as if you've known each other for years
somehow, you feel home
but do you remember what it was like in the dark?
or well, what it was like being in the closet?
the closet was a cold place where i was surrounded by the same four corners and in these four corners i had very little space to be the person i am
i try to stretch out but there's not enough room so i limit myself so as i'm not a problem
i limit myself so people don't have to take the time to build a bigger closet for me
i mean, if they're happy with the way the closet is why should they change it right
why would they waste time on something that they perceive as a mistake to society
the closet was a place that made me feel alone even though i was out in a crowd
it's like i see people but i can't act pass the limits that this closet provides for me
i try to break through this closet but this closet has long been under maintenance honey
one wrong move and this wood could crumble and people will look at you as if you were a joke
the closet didn't allow me full access to opening its door, or doors if that's the kind of closet you'd perceive
i'd open the tiniest little peek, and only a few people saw me open up that tiny space
they'd approach and wonder, but they approached me differently
i knew that no matter how beat up this closet was, they came with no harm and they'd even help keep this closet in tact as long as it's my safe space for the time being
i'd tell them how much i love the closet, and they'd tell me of the life outside it
the closet was a place that i considered a home while hiding from my family who called the closet names
they hated the closet, they'd rather have nothing to do with it
but like most people, why would they waste their time on a beat up closet
the closet was a place where i hid from the girl i liked knowing that she'd never like me back
it was where i could sulk for all the times i wish i could be the one she smiled at every single day
but for now all she sees a fabricated person hidden behind a beat up closet, and not me for me
but now i'm tired of the closet, it's boring, the wood is being chipped off, my friends who understand are waiting for me
the day came when i finally decided to step out of the closet
it was a slow process but i managed to pull through it
there were people who forced me back in but there were even more people who helped me step out
and looking back at that beat up closet, i decided to break it apart myself and it was the best i've ever felt in a long time
and i'm telling you, it really is bright out today
there's color everywhere, people shining smiles at you as if you've known each other for years
this, this is home
this is what i missed in the dark
this is my safe space
Jun 24, 2017
Jun 24, 2017 at 1:08 PM UTC
I have witnessed love once
It's not over Christmas morning when mom and dad see me tearing up my presents
or
in the presence of peers, who when they kiss, it feels as though the Fates have finally thought of goodness in this world.
But it is how my neighbor wakes up at five am
and
he thinks I do not know it
but he comes over my fence
and plucks the stems of
a bloomed white rose
everyday
and
walks away.
One day,
I followed him
Alas
I found him sitting
next to a grave.
He did not look like an old man
To me at that very moment
He looked like a young sailor
apart from his love by the sea
and had her in his arms again,
After the longest time.
He removed a weary rose on top of the granite
and
replaced it with a new, beautiful one.
He spoke,
"I brought you
another rose today.
White and fully bloomed,
just the way you like it.
I can't do no more
since I still have to pay
the bills and your maintenance.
And I think,
my neighbor has started to
think
where do all here her roses go."
He gives me a rare smile,
arching his back
and tells me to come over.
Nov 7, 2013
Nov 7, 2013 at 1:26 PM UTC
Kaitlyn Bristowe and Shawn Booth open up about breaking the rules and their plans for a (really big) family. Subscribe now for all the details plus exclusive photos, only in PEOPLE!
Get ready to toast to Mr. and Mrs. Booth!
Kaitlyn Bristowe and Shawn Booth, who got engaged on The Bachelorette's season finale, are ready to walk down the aisle … just as soon as they take a little breather.
"We just want to enjoy the moment right now," Booth, 29, tells PEOPLE exclusively. "It's been so crazy. We just want to hang out as a normal couple, do a little traveling and then sit down and start making some plans."
Adds his bride-to-be: "We can't wait. We don't need to plan it right now, but we can't wait."
And the famously laid-back former dance instructor, 30, says she's already got a couple visions for her big day in mind.
"I always picture myself having a destination wedding because I'm so low-maintenance," Bristowe says. "I don't want to pick out flowers or colors, I just want to be like, 'yes, no, yes, no' ."
Jokes Booth: "I always pictured a wedding in Vegas at a little chapel!"
As far as expanding their family down the road? It might happen sooner rather than later, if you ask Bristowe.
"I have such baby fever," she admits. "I want four [kids]. Shawn wants five. And I hope to God I have all boys."
"One girl," Booth chimes in. "One girl that looks like her mom!"
For much more from Kaitlyn and Shawn, including exclusive photos, pick up the new issue of PEOPLE, on stands Friday
read more:www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-sydney
www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-brisbane
Jul 29, 2015
Jul 29, 2015 at 9:45 PM UTC
What is maintenance? My life has to be cold,
planned, full of calculation. Otherwise, what?
Otherwise, I'll be old at thirty-five, bold, but too close
to a tragic slip, toes in the grass by open graves,
when peers gather, grow on pavement past the gates.
My life has to be cold, planned, full of calculation.
Otherwise, the most vital, underlying systems
yell in warning lights, compromised. You may
not think it problematic, but I can't interpret
signs of my demise already six feet down,
now can I? That's why I (we): clean, sort,
scrub, update outdated thoughts, as if
otherwise, I (we) cut the years I'll (we'll)
survive.
Open my chest for me, you,
lovely human you. Your
scent rises through the rain.
Could I live the way you live,
I would. But I can't, and I know that.
So let me react to your input,
open my chest for me
open my chest for me
open my chest for me
open me
Jul 7, 2017
Jul 7, 2017 at 6:58 PM UTC