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"mitigation" poems
These are the words I pick through thick Irish. Love affair of some sort between the bar tending woman and a friend of the guest. Mitigation, mutiny upon an S.S. Lovebird Somewhere Sometime (world affairs), can't blame the ******* for gazing left at the television as he's only the messenger boy. What is this, a medieval fantasy novel? I guess the name of wherever I am and ponder how far away my life is.
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Apr 4, 2013
Apr 4, 2013 at 4:38 PM UTC
'I'm only the messenger boy.'
Writers can be so snotty sometimes They think they're so clever with their rhymes They employ obscure words the way  armies deploy a specialized force pedantic, pretentious, affected  on some insufferable plagiarized  course Their wit a mired ploy to be perceived  as bright not so much to share knowledge but to be the one that's right vaingloriousness cripples the honesty in script and another puzzled reader reads between the lines of a message adrift people twist things to their advantage skew the facts to fit the page shrug it off as a necessity of the modern age most do it, few will notice if they do they'll say it's a mistake deadlines howl, time grates like a rake truth is incidental when words are fake another American madman goes berserk with a gun on a spree perfect timing  for the rollout of Grand Theft Auto 3 Don't worry little directors of death and mayhem You've no culpability in the land of the free causality is just some unprovable notion you're safe and sound from any legal motion exculpatory  mitigation is your right as an 'artist'   'till the sorry day you eat the gun the eventual price  you'll pay for your  sick wicked fun
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Sep 18, 2013
Sep 18, 2013 at 12:27 AM UTC
Writers Can Be So Snotty
Planting - a memory retention an attempt at reparation a small mitigation an intrinsic notion of good a wooden blessing a happy healing - a tree
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Feb 22, 2022
Feb 22, 2022 at 10:43 AM UTC
Planting trees
When he kissed me, I thought he’d conquer the parts of him too much like his mother. I thought he’d lose the pieces of militant voices inside his head on the curves of my hips. I think he was trying to bury himself in me… I know that I let him. He punctuated every apology with the same melancholy mitigation. Like a true addict, I told him that was enough. It wasn’t. It still isn’t but I always miss him. He helped  build my heart from scratch, and I will always love him.
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Nov 4, 2015
Nov 4, 2015 at 6:48 PM UTC
He Fought Wars on My Body
Altogether on the boat. The waves stood tall. Not enough space on the boat to hold them all. 25 migrants promised new lives. They left behind their children. They left behind their wives. The dream of prosperity. The men set sail. Turned into a nightmare did this sad and sorry tale. 5 died of hunger, 6 of dehydration. A woeful situation. No plan B or mitigation. The men laid to rest at the bottom of the sea. These were normal people like you and like me. Looking for a better life. It's all so terribly sad. A wife missing her husband. A child missing his dad. The only ones to gain are the ones who sold the dream. The ones who take blood money are never what they seem. They take the hard earned cash from men who Want a better way of life. They care little for their children and care nothing for their wives.
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Jul 20, 2015
Jul 20, 2015 at 6:58 PM UTC
Human determination
Neither a word Nor a feeling. It's intangible But It's alive Indescribable yet, Able to cause sufficient damage Equivalent to a single life. Just a single day Hundreds and thousands Die From the wrath Of Pain. In the mercy Of its insatiable desire. At times Strength from it Though mostly destructive No amount of mitigation Or medication Will cease its existence For pain is real And so are you. (C.C)
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Sep 30, 2013
Sep 30, 2013 at 9:52 AM UTC
Pain
My pen moves with prudent pride For the anguished heart I cannot hide. With strident strokes, he gambles to uncover The choking sounds I dare to softly utter. Offering no modest mitigation, My heart still reeks of desolation. And my words drunkenly drip In a continually poisonous strip. Stifling and suffocating my tale, They are now entirely meek and frail. The once crimson red ink Turns ever dusty, ever pink! So my diary endlessly bleeds Of verses I long dared free, Standing with bold bravery- No longer bound to slavery - Each stanza feverishly rhymes, And relays all my cautious cries.
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Apr 24, 2011
Apr 24, 2011 at 10:35 PM UTC
Weeping Ink
You remove the words from my mouth treating me like a fountain spring (insert laughter) when you're dry and searching for life only if, and otherwise I'm off Your precious utility darkly in your canteen You remove my words as if you're due mitigation for free I won't be left alone within your arm's reach If that's what you want, how bout I pull open my wounds? To let all the bees out? How bout I twist on your wrist? To show you I've got poison to take, if you've nothing to give.
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Feb 22, 2015
Feb 22, 2015 at 9:09 PM UTC
Mitigation for Free
To you, Man. To the day Your sojourn From heat and brush Found fecund crescent And soil. To your dogged pursuit, In dead of winter, Of meat and succor, And bone. To you, Man. To the day When your head Turned upright And began appraisal In earnest. To when your legs Slaved And freed your dexterity- Your able And working hands. To you, Man. To the day You rendered The plains beast And whispered Life into the still And dim Of a cave. To depiction, And art. To you, Man. To the day When Nature turned Her throat to you In submission. To your implements And shafts, Cutters and Killers. To you, Man. To the day You woke most Promethean, And pirated fire, Stole from the elements Without ransom. To your second attempt, Your brash temptation Of Zeus' bolts. Again you stole light And made no attempt At mitigation. To you, Man. To the day Your wonder Exceeded your need, Begat the metropolis And smoke. To your institutions And monopolies, Your greed And bias. To you, Man. To the day You traded war For affluence, Fraternity For dominion. To your plague And bitter taste. And to you, Man. To today. And you've a mind To make up. Find epiphany, Wake Into chivalry And care- Sow the seeds of greener leaves? Or continue in sloth, Stagnate And succumb To waste- Burn the field for just one ream? So to you, Man. O, to you, Man.
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Mar 12, 2011
Mar 12, 2011 at 8:24 PM UTC
To You, Man
All your evil schemes won’t bring me down, I’m standing tall, I’m looking proud, I’ve got control of the situation, Don’t need to listen to your litigation, I have my own ways of mitigation, I’m open to suggestion from my inspiration, I can achieve, I can beat you, Won’t let you win, Won’t let you in, I’m the idol of my eye, Won’t be brought down by your sins.
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Aug 28, 2012
Aug 28, 2012 at 12:08 PM UTC
Evil Schemes
Emasculation, no *********** needing Ministration: handy ************ Mitigation Yah, bruh Handy dandy Some vacation A friction revelation Whao!
0
Jan 22, 2019
Jan 22, 2019 at 12:08 AM UTC
HAND JIVE
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0
Nov 18, 2015
Nov 18, 2015 at 4:51 AM UTC
Your guests will be devouring every inch
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2
a time to find momentary awareness.. those sensations and thoughts arising encapsulate these in absorbing light.. mitigation transformation two become one then again two.. then new sensations new thoughts a neverending story producing a glow...
0
Aug 20, 2012
Aug 20, 2012 at 10:52 PM UTC
solitude
Of course I break and sway and as they say die another day a probable game to play when they take your soul away….before, on the porch, he stood and screamed remorse, it’s worse than the rocking horse tipping back and forth.. a scolding soldier .. the things your mother told ya and all the lethal force drawn upon your door. Bastions of righteous minions lay siege to your dominion and force all of your children into begging for this eden until they don’t remember until you can forgive her they swallow up forever in minutes ever after in basic sick diversions in lieu of subtle passions in lieu of real creation .. like a bargainer’s mitigation .. bask and behold unmask and resolve where were the wonders this year oh, forgotten amidst the fear. Where were the wages of war .. at every child’s door accuse me of rebellion and list my name for here is horror and I am shame ..
0
Feb 6, 2015
Feb 6, 2015 at 11:40 PM UTC
Untitled
Poetry is as poetry flows Beneath the rocks through undertows Over great mountains across oceans deep Dwells within dreams while dreamer's asleep Fights the good fight even if lost Doing what's right no matter the cost Defending the weak wherever they're found Raising a voice to let freedom sound Don't judge yourself of what you read here Create your own space abandon all fear
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Jun 22, 2018
Jun 22, 2018 at 11:04 PM UTC
Mitigation and Reason
To property with a high degree That puts to shame anyone with soft soothing tea Moving along past inscribed miseries On peoples faces Oh, further fast, going places Board that silk laced train without hesitation Gather white flowers, take no intimidations For the poet writes only about rays of mitigation That breaks open the shaded Which is ignored and faded For the true painter paints, only what they care to see Not what others are faced to be Once they decide their messages for he and she Each tree they will chop with a fake type of force For the poet now has stolen their horse On which they rode to the promise land With the dead, the unborn, & the hand Of what is what & who tears the bands Apart for they don't speak Only listen, repeat, and creak Soft now please, go to the beach with the swirling keeps Perhaps there will lay the sleeping sheep That you wish not to be, for they are meek in heaps And do not know every meaning Behind every tower leaning Learn something there, then return For not your destiny everyone yearns Rather it is peace and a chance to learn About a prophecy new And culture few Or perhaps that is a lie Like every tear shed through an eye That hopes to gain something through a tight tie
0
Feb 2, 2014
Feb 2, 2014 at 7:55 PM UTC
Territory Moving
You win Me with your Authorship/ Wisdom. Why Am I So dumb? I know I can thump my chest, Scream Into the Heavens... It makes no difference, No response, No mitigation. And, You're right. I Will always be wrong. BUT,
0
Nov 7, 2016
Nov 7, 2016 at 5:39 PM UTC
Dear God,
listen to the leaves the rise and fall of the in between protection, power both subjective show me outside of here and then we're getting somewhere integration rewind all the numbers back to the end again water runs rampant through the city mitigation of migration the treetops won't always be visible electrified fog sticking together don't paint the portrait paint the scenery and quietly you react because you're chosen to
0
Oct 2, 2015
Oct 2, 2015 at 6:49 PM UTC
everything is a reaction
I can be obsessive. For instance, last night I needed a command hook. My mind couldn’t focus on “Principles of Biostatistics,” as fascinating as that book is, because I needed this $3 command hook to hang my keys by the door. There’s a table by the door, I could easily put my keys there, but no. That’s where books go (am I too picky?). What’s funny is, I’d just been reading about ‘bias mitigation,' ya know, science is everywhere. Still, I searched the boxes that I hadn’t unpacked I looked around them too, did one fall in a crack? Did I have one to begin with? I couldn’t keep track. I texted Charles (across the hall), “do you have a command hook?” “A what?” he replied. So I texted his wife, who went to look. When she didn’t have one, I went back to my book. The chapter was about ‘probability distributions as tools for managing uncertainty.’ How topical, here I was, uncertain about when I’d get that command hook. Never mind an indifferent God, science is obviously listening. It was nearly midnight. I wondered, how late Door-Dash delivered? Would they bring my hook or were there other services I should consider? What about Amazon, Target or WalMart—could one of those be a winner? In the end I had to do without—I gave up at 1am. The miracle of capitalism had failed me—damn. I could study with the hook off my mind. So, I set an Alexa reminder, an alarm on my watch and alerts on my iPhone and MacBook finder, then I wrote a pink post-it note, and put that on my epidemiology binder. I have a standing, pre-dawn jog with Charles, and an idea forming. If we passed an open convenience store, I could buy one in the morning! . . Songs for this: I Want You by Bob Dylan I need you by Jon Batiste
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Jun 13, 2025
Jun 13, 2025 at 1:39 PM UTC
obsessions
I can be obsessive. For instance, last night I needed a command hook. My mind couldn’t focus on “Principles of Biostatistics,” as fascinating as that book is, because I needed this $3 command hook to hang my keys by the door. There’s a table by the door, I could easily put my keys there, but no. That’s where books go (am I too picky?). What’s funny is, I’d just been reading about ‘bias mitigation,' ya know, science is everywhere. Still, I searched the boxes that I hadn’t unpacked I looked around them too, did one fall in a crack? Did I have one to begin with? I couldn’t keep track. I texted Charles (across the hall), “do you have a command hook?” “A what?” he replied. So I texted his wife, who went to look. When she didn’t have one, I went back to my book. The chapter was about ‘probability distributions as tools for managing uncertainty.’ How topical, here I was, uncertain about when I’d get that command hook. Never mind an indifferent God, science is obviously listening. It was nearly midnight. I wondered, how late Door-Dash delivered? Would they bring my hook or were there other services I should consider? What about Amazon, Target or WalMart—could one of those be a winner? In the end I had to do without—I gave up at 1am. The miracle of capitalism had failed me—damn. I could study with the hook off my mind. So, I set an Alexa reminder, an alarm on my watch and alerts on my iPhone and MacBook finder, then I wrote a pink post-it note, and put that on my epidemiology binder. I have a standing, pre-dawn jog with Charles, and an idea forming. If we passed an open convenience store, I could buy one in the morning! . . Songs for this: I Want You by Bob Dylan I need you by Jon Batiste
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25
stomach twists in pure fear i’ve had enough people for a year feel their eyes burning into me rather leave you for soul deceit alone and focused on i feel so far gone i want to scream i want to wake up from this dream i think i look stupid i don’t think i feel worth it hoping for someone to take the blame of the loneliness left untamed will they see me write this? can i justify this? i just want a friend to sit down with i don’t need a hug or a kiss i want to go home i want to say no trapped in obligations sadness in mitigation maybe i should say something but it might disturb something how are you? good, i’ve got something to do come watch my misery from a comfortable bird’s eye view
0
Aug 31, 2019
Aug 31, 2019 at 11:43 PM UTC
torment
Fall becomes Winter. Time changes. Time rearranges. Each season provides its own challenge. A shaving becomes a beard. The snow falls. The snow piles. Snowballs gain momentum and grow. A scratch becomes an ache. I can't breathe. I can't swallow. I won't last long but this will last forever. The cold becomes pneumonia. I have coughing fits. I have blockage. Phlegm builds an island to be marooned upon. Habitation becomes hibernation. The animals escape. The animals sleep. They wait for the light to shine on them once more. Mitigation becomes migration. The birds fly away. The birds fly South. As they flee their wings push cold air down toward us. Winter becomes Spring. I have become someone else. A man who has felt another Winter.
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Dec 20, 2020
Dec 20, 2020 at 5:06 PM UTC
Become