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"neglecting" poems
C-Currently the subject of much conversation L-Learning of its effects through information I-Internationally scientists are using education M-Mankind's pollution is causes this situation A-Altering our ways may stop the devastation T-Time isn't on the side of the world's population E-Ever we should be aware of its manifestation C-Cycles of weather becoming stranger by the day H-Heat is building up in the earth's rocks and clay A-Averting further damage cannot be put on delay N-Neglecting our response to the planet wont pay G-Globally hotter and wetter conditions will parlay E-Everyone needs to heed the message of this day
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Apr 28, 2013
Apr 28, 2013 at 2:19 AM UTC
Climate Change (Acrostic Poem)
Fabricated. Fictitious. A fake floating feeling Falls short Of my fleeting fantasy. This insidious infirmity Isn't what I intended. I've been inflicted With internal indisposition. In need of an ideal identity. Who am I without This ****** to make me whole? How do I heave my heart Away from this hole? Have you seen how hard this is? But it's been short of a year, Of believing I can simply be. And before I break Bleed me of my bane. And for me, bear no malice. Tightly take me Away from my terible tempest. Time tells me it's time to stop. Too long I've tortured my tenemet. Tame the tantrum tearing through me. Sober seems strong, But it's systematic survival. Stopping the surrender To something stimulating. Learning to stand sedated. No I'm no longer numb. No longer neglecting my need For new novcane. Knowing I'll never need This vaccine again. You are all my ambition. Dispelling my ailments And afflictions. I am hard to adore, I know. You are my new addiction. You have me dreaming, Praying we are real. Made me feel. Don't decieve my brittle belief. Keep me, don't leave. I'm not the kind to fly. For you i'd try to dive. Unafraid I might die. I don't hide from the night. This is what I've been trying to find.
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May 11, 2015
May 11, 2015 at 9:59 AM UTC
Tip of the tongue the teeth and the lips
Relapse and rewind This happens every god **** time. I've been neglecting the drugs, The ones that were supposed to save me. They only make it worse Make me feel more crazy. But when the time comes Where my tide breaks I cannot hold my ground. The monsters come to me With deafening sound. Whispers from malevolent lips Sound so sweet. Like candy for my starving soul. And soon I'm on that sugar high. Rushing cherry red It's got such a lovely flavor. Feeds my hunger Satisfies my thirst. It won't be long Before I'm back for more.
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Apr 18, 2014
Apr 18, 2014 at 1:43 AM UTC
Sugar rush
Dont treat me like potato I aint no ****** tomato Imma do what i want and smoke tobacco Dont think of me as your flashy babe *** Im sick of all this crap yow, Youve been neglecting the **** outta me bro But im through playing your games tho So kiss me hard and just let me go
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May 12, 2014
May 12, 2014 at 2:30 AM UTC
Dont treat me like potato
I'm thankful for an awful lot But where do I draw the line I'll be thankful for my family I'll be thankful for their memories I'll be thankful for the friends I got I'll be thankful for the things I've been taught But where do I draw this line When people tell me what to be thankful for To be thankful to live here To be thankful for freedom To be thankful we're better off than some To be thankful for things without considering the cost. In good conscious. I cannot be Thankful at the cost of misery I will not be thankful at the expense of innocent lives. I will not be thankful that things could be worse I will not be thankful for this complacency And while I'm **** sure thankful for the miracles in life. I do so ever aware and never neglecting the cost of such things, that I am demanded to be thankful for.
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Nov 24, 2016
Nov 24, 2016 at 1:39 PM UTC
Thankful
What has become of me? I've turned into such a reprobate. Watching **** and neglecting writing. I think of Nin and Henry Miller, turning lust and clitoral stimulation into ****** literature. And here I am... *** stains on my laptop, and looking sadly at the miniature bust of Shakespeare on my writing desk. Even he looks disgusted.
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Feb 12, 2022
Feb 12, 2022 at 7:52 AM UTC
Shakespeare won't Look at Me
A wind blows like a wilderness of wolves A vendetta, an apocalyptic vendetta In its unpredictable, accidental quality That swerves images of realization into tragedy Neglecting all with swift intent upon a fallen fortress In complected interests of caresses Neither invited nor encouraged yet displayed Displayed vividly with exclusive claim to that oppression That howls by casting itself as a consequence of transgression Upon a conventional expectation that claims a privileged sense That persuades without an orator grotesquely amputated shapes Extending extraordinary artifice as its priceless wealth But who, yes who, has envy of so rich a nothing
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Jul 29, 2012
Jul 29, 2012 at 12:23 PM UTC
Heteronormative Homophobia
I am not really understanding Why they are drinking, smoking And dancing in the name of Happy new year They are forgetting forgetting What about ugadi and Pongal? Do they greet one another During these Indian festivals? I am not understanding I am really bored with The buzzing sounds Of cells and land phones They woke me up and Said, ’wish you a happy new Year’, at mid-night I am not understanding The artificiality Of happiness I can’t be happy Simply because It is a new year’s day I will be happy If there is a need To be happy They are neglecting neglecting Our culture. I am not really understanding Why are they smoking,drinking Dancing and dancing I am really not understanding
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Jan 1, 2011
Jan 1, 2011 at 6:52 AM UTC
I AM REALLY NOT UNDERSTANDING
We can't seem to communicate like a normal pair Arguing, yelling, ignoring each other How am I supposed to believe you even care While our once innocent love slowly threatens to smother Blaming others for your own cruel deeds Forgetting the rainbows we have been through Neglecting your wife and children's needs It's all black and white now, no color seems true Daddy's yelling, mommy cries Something about money and lies Tomorrow is their 20th aniversary What magic could she buy to make her parents happy? To see their smiles again at dinner time To hear them ask if she's doing fine She grabs a sheet of snow white paper Her pencils and some glitters Draws a  rainbow and a light pink lily All they need is some color in this family Y.
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May 31, 2013
May 31, 2013 at 1:00 PM UTC
A rainbow and a lily
Our future starts now, have we forgotten somehow? The pain that we endure somehow makes us impure. To live and let go, to love and learn... To accept one another; expect the same in return. To reach out to someone hurting and to try and understand, this helps us grow... After all, wasn't that the plan? Why else are we here, why else are we breathing? It's only just begun and soon we'll all be leaving. To leave something behind that is worth your life or mine would show that we have made it, we rest with the divine. The planets all in balance, The souls points all aligned, That's when the peace comes That's when we can unwind. We dream and we discuss a way of living that we must, but if there is no action then why all of the fuss? We have to put it out there, to live and love our best the way that we know how and spread it to the rest. On earth there is a sadness and men with cruel intention, many of you notice what I shouldn't have to mention. At this juncture  we are falling apart, forgetting our talents, neglecting our art. We feel the end approaching, pain envelopes all... We reach out to our brothers when we are feeling small. If you feel alone, you have to figure out- who are the people that are filling you with doubt? If it is inside of you, you have to cast it out and if it is surrounding you, find another route. Our future starts today, have we forgotten somehow? Don't let it be in vain, make a change now. ~ ©KD
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Mar 3, 2016
Mar 3, 2016 at 10:16 AM UTC
The Future is Now
People show love in many ways A note on the bathroom door An extra brownie in your lunch box Starting the car on a cold morning For her it  was in her food She cooked her emotions the way most chefs add salt You could taste them clearly in every bite connecting your tastebuds to your heart, If she was happy the steak melted on your tongue If she was sad the soup made a tear glisten in your eye But when she was in love with me Every Bite sang in my mouth She made my favorites every night Life was good But one day the bread wasn’t so fluffy It held a melancholy note i’ve never tasted before I asked what was wrong but she didn’t have the words to explain what she as feeling, So I let it go That was my mistake Day by day, she started to crumble So did her pies She went from a wonder dancing in the kitchen and licking the spoon To a hollow shell serving you lukewarm pasta that left you unsettled I excused her behavior I was busy she was stressed The food was only cold because I was so late to the table I didn’t realize it wasn’t dinner I was neglecting It was her If i could change one moment in my life, i’d be that night The one where she finally felt up to baking again We had some time together, she hummed a bit as she stirred the batter But then she stumbled and dropped a glass measuring cup of milk she was holding It was bitter irony seeing the woman i loved, The light of my life, Crying over spilled milk That’d be the moment i’d change I’d catch her wrist and hold her up Just Like I promised I would I wouldn’t fail her if I had another chance Our kitchen is quiet these days There's a thick layer of dust everywhere except the microwave And around the edges of the room are tiny bits of glass Glistening like diamonds Or unshed tears, Abandoned like me But I can’t complain After all, I abandoned her first I should have read the recipe I should have realized she was breaking I didn’t see it at first But every bite held a piece of her suicide note If i’d only tasted it before it was too late Now she’s gone My hearts as broken as that measuring cup And I’m the one crying over spilled milk By Aknier     ~this is fictional~
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Nov 9, 2018
Nov 9, 2018 at 10:48 PM UTC
Spilled Milk ~a long story~
People show love in many ways A note on the bathroom door An extra brownie in your lunch box Starting the car on a cold morning For her it  was in her food She cooked her emotions the way most chefs add salt You could taste them clearly in every bite connecting your tastebuds to your heart, If she was happy the steak melted on your tongue If she was sad the soup made a tear glisten in your eye But when she was in love with me Every Bite sang in my mouth She made my favorites every night Life was good But one day the bread wasn’t so fluffy It held a melancholy note i’ve never tasted before I asked what was wrong but she didn’t have the words to explain what she as feeling, So I let it go That was my mistake Day by day, she started to crumble So did her pies She went from a wonder dancing in the kitchen and licking the spoon To a hollow shell serving you lukewarm pasta that left you unsettled I excused her behavior I was busy she was stressed The food was only cold because I was so late to the table I didn’t realize it wasn’t dinner I was neglecting It was her If i could change one moment in my life, i’d be that night The one where she finally felt up to baking again We had some time together, she hummed a bit as she stirred the batter But then she stumbled and dropped a glass measuring cup of milk she was holding It was bitter irony seeing the woman i loved, The light of my life, Crying over spilled milk That’d be the moment i’d change I’d catch her wrist and hold her up Just Like I promised I would I wouldn’t fail her if I had another chance Our kitchen is quiet these days There's a thick layer of dust everywhere except the microwave And around the edges of the room are tiny bits of glass Glistening like diamonds Or unshed tears, Abandoned like me But I can’t complain After all, I abandoned her first I should have read the recipe I should have realized she was breaking I didn’t see it at first But every bite held a piece of her suicide note If i’d only tasted it before it was too late Now she’s gone My hearts as broken as that measuring cup And I’m the one crying over spilled milk By Aknier     ~this is fictional~
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55
I was mad. I was mad about being second best. I was mad about taking a second place in your heads. I was mad about what you discussed behind my back. I was mad about realising how mad it all made me become. I was sad. I was sad about how excluded you made me feel. I was sad about how vulnerable I had let myself become. I was sad about not feeling as important to you anymore. I was sad because I felt so alone without you. With you. I was tired. I was tired of seeing them push me aside. I was tired of being interrupted for your gains. I was tired of being used to broaden your shoulders And widen your egos I was tired of seeing her face and hearing you laugh at her words. I was wounded. Wounded because you left me all alone when I needed you. Wounded because you chose them over me. And her. Wounded because I had finally found my place and they took it from me. Wounded because my mistakes were haunting me. Wounded because you were hurting me, neglecting me, rejecting me. Now you've come back to me. Come back like I predicted. Come back like none of this ever happened. Come back like she was never here. Like I never asked you that question. Come back like we were never different. Come back like my heart is still yours and yours is still mine. And now you smile at me, Talk to me, Laugh at me like nothing ever happened, nothing ever changed. Like we will still remain The same And I don't know what to think anymore Other than what love is made of.
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Sep 17, 2018
Sep 17, 2018 at 7:58 PM UTC
Undecided
Lately when I've been walking, I find myself staring at the sidewalk. Thinking "I should just lay down," as if the sidewalk is the perfect place for a defeated nap. Lately when I've been working I find myself unable to concentrate. Words move around on the screen and my brain can't keep up with my eyes. Reading only to instantly forget. Lately when my phone rings I panic a little. Fearing whatever is on the other end is something that isn't conducive to peace. Lately I have started to wonder If I was mistaken to hide my sickness, to hide my pain. Because now I can't hide it, and the perception of me becomes a crying wolf. Yet I've always felt this way, just with lips sewn shut. Lately when I've been eating I am repulsed by food. My throat rejects it; unable to swallow. No appetite, neglecting the consequences; the hallow weakness. Lately I've felt like I am slowly killing myself. Adrenal gland pumping, at all hours of the day; heart grieving; stomach on strike; body screaming. Lately I've been trying to get better but I can't tell if it's working.
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Jun 15, 2018
Jun 15, 2018 at 10:06 AM UTC
Lately
1549 My Wars are laid away in Books— I have one Battle more— A Foe whom I have never seen But oft has scanned me o’er— And hesitated me between And others at my side, But chose the best—Neglecting me—till All the rest, have died— How sweet if I am not forgot By Chums that passed away— Since Playmates at threescore and ten Are such a scarcity—
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3.5k
My Wars are laid away in Books—
In a world of zombified teens so loaded up on antidepressants, anti-anxiety and anti things- it must be asked. Did that boy who jumped off the bridge just last week, leap in an attempt to grow wings? Maybe he did it just to see if he'd be scared? Or perhaps.   He felt just too much to live with the numbness his medication offered He was never looking for A temporary solution to his pain. What about that darling girl who's arms and thighs are In a love affair With an abusive razor? Does she stay with him for fear of going back, Again and again, only to be called weak for leaving in the first place? Or for the fear that she'll Never Feel the same exhilaration From another's kiss? The last question of tonight. How is it that I am just noticing now, How carefully he avoids the word Home Almost as if he knows the place I grew up in Will never be a home again. Not to me. Does he know, It represents Nothing but a return to the front line? Just like being ****** back into the trenches A still wounded soldier. Nothing but a band-aid Covering what once Was a gaping bullet hole. She still feels his hands on her. They sound as loud as a grenade in her head The slap of his hand traumatizing as an atom bomb, She reaches for her lover, Hoping he can distract her from the battle All while Neglecting To acknowledge he brings with him His own War. They all stand at his funeral Holding hands and saying a prayer. Hoping, Praying, He grew his wings. Nobody understood What could have led him To choose the pain of A jump Over The silence of a pill Or the speed of a bullet. Most of all though, His mother just wants to know Why he didn't tell her he needed to be held. We all have our demons, Skeletons in the closet. What people don't realize is Wars are fought every day The trenches lie Not in Dead-Mans Land but Inside our heads.
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Aug 30, 2013
Aug 30, 2013 at 10:51 PM UTC
Trenches and Abusive Relationships
In a world of zombified teens so loaded up on antidepressants, anti-anxiety and anti things- it must be asked. Did that boy who jumped off the bridge just last week, leap in an attempt to grow wings? Maybe he did it just to see if he'd be scared? Or perhaps.   He felt just too much to live with the numbness his medication offered He was never looking for A temporary solution to his pain. What about that darling girl who's arms and thighs are In a love affair With an abusive razor? Does she stay with him for fear of going back, Again and again, only to be called weak for leaving in the first place? Or for the fear that she'll Never Feel the same exhilaration From another's kiss? The last question of tonight. How is it that I am just noticing now, How carefully he avoids the word Home Almost as if he knows the place I grew up in Will never be a home again. Not to me. Does he know, It represents Nothing but a return to the front line? Just like being ****** back into the trenches A still wounded soldier. Nothing but a band-aid Covering what once Was a gaping bullet hole. She still feels his hands on her. They sound as loud as a grenade in her head The slap of his hand traumatizing as an atom bomb, She reaches for her lover, Hoping he can distract her from the battle All while Neglecting To acknowledge he brings with him His own War. They all stand at his funeral Holding hands and saying a prayer. Hoping, Praying, He grew his wings. Nobody understood What could have led him To choose the pain of A jump Over The silence of a pill Or the speed of a bullet. Most of all though, His mother just wants to know Why he didn't tell her he needed to be held. We all have our demons, Skeletons in the closet. What people don't realize is Wars are fought every day The trenches lie Not in Dead-Mans Land but Inside our heads.
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70
It’s moments like this Some obscure song playing on our google home My brother, gazing off into the distance no doubt under the spell of some great philosophical inquiry, Neglecting the spoon and it’s contents Drip drip dripping My mother in the corner, seemingly preoccupied, slender fingers probing what appears to be Yet another bag Of those chocolate covered toffee almonds My father, ever the victor in competitive eating, up and roaming about By the window one moment, at the couch the next Gone like the wind, oh here he comes Meanwhile I, face a great trial which I must overcome in order to greet my destiny -stairs At the top of which await Dozens upon dozens of procrastinated Assignments just calling to me Stirring up within me a desire, A ferocious flaming ambition, To not move an inch
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Jan 2, 2019
Jan 2, 2019 at 1:57 PM UTC
Lunch Time at My House
I keep forgetting to forget you, neglecting to regret you.
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Dec 15, 2014
Dec 15, 2014 at 1:16 AM UTC
Incapable (10w)
Fat women with Fur coats To warm their overfed Heaps of mass Holding overpriced Elongated, mechanical strings Attached to their Mouse-like dogs That wear clothes That cost more Than my entire outfit Shirt, jeans, boots, jacket Combined They yap to small devices Glued to their ears Like instruments Of envy and jealousy Yelling at their husbands Or boyfriends Or pool boys Who haven't done their job Either paying for whatever they want Or neglecting to net out That last nat From their jacuzzis Where they sip white wine And sizzle in soapy water Before getting out And slipping on shoes Made by kids In Cambodia Who have never held A hundred dollar bill What is wrong Who is right What is it That's been done Here None of it makes sense To me
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Jan 23, 2013
Jan 23, 2013 at 12:53 PM UTC
Rich Women
you are so underrated. It's all my mistake for not making you my inspiration to write. It's all me, who holds back and keep all those little confessions for my thought. you are so underrated. For you were my muse, long before we started all these. & I'm sorry for neglecting all the poetry, that were meant for you.. Holding all the words, Just because I'm just too afraid to write again. you are so underrated. Despite the fact you are everything that what I need. I never make things so easy for you. Yet, you are still here. & making it seems so easy to love me. It needs me almost a year for me to finally say; "I love you" back to you Yet, in the moment when I remain silent, you will still say "I love you" to me. I'm a cynic. Yet, you still hug me & laugh at my saltiness. you take me as I am. It takes you a year before I finally stood up, & kiss you. Yet, you still want me the same, consistently, everyday.
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Feb 3, 2019
Feb 3, 2019 at 10:22 AM UTC
Underrated.
still water blues of hopeful forms and endless colours willingly neglecting the obvious relapse of melancholy and rejection as adrenaline fades and you realize you are number one
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Nov 13, 2013
Nov 13, 2013 at 12:13 AM UTC
she woman
I can’t wait until you realize that nobody is ever going to love you like I did and you have to cry over me like I have over you for the past 8 years of my life. I can’t wait to bring my significant other around you while you pretend to ignore us as we kiss and fool around under blankets. I can’t wait to bring them to your house and **** while you’re in the same room trying to sleep, pretending to sleep, wishing you were dead. I can’t wait until you lose your mind and everyone looks at you like you’re crazy as you explain how you love me and you can’t do anything about it even though I've told you that it’s never going to happen because you aren't good enough. I can’t wait to always look past you as you do everything in your power to try and make me happy, hook me up with your friends and give me everything, but receive nothing. I can’t wait until you beg me and I can be selfish and make sure you’re giving me what I want, neglecting your own needs, before I push you away using “I’m tired” as an excuse. I can’t wait until you are hurting yourself over me and I have to tell you to stop, as if I give a **** while I continuously put you through pain. I can’t wait until you drunkenly admit all of your feelings and apologize for the mistakes of the past. Even then, I’ll probably still love you, but I won’t give in. You will never have me; because the last time I lent you my heart, you ran with it. I don’t think I’ll ever get it back. And with no heart, I cannot forgive, I can never be whole again. I can’t wait for another chance in another life to break you, like you've broken me. k.d.
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Sep 10, 2013
Sep 10, 2013 at 12:28 AM UTC
You're a toy I can't wait to break.
I can’t wait until you realize that nobody is ever going to love you like I did and you have to cry over me like I have over you for the past 8 years of my life. I can’t wait to bring my significant other around you while you pretend to ignore us as we kiss and fool around under blankets. I can’t wait to bring them to your house and **** while you’re in the same room trying to sleep, pretending to sleep, wishing you were dead. I can’t wait until you lose your mind and everyone looks at you like you’re crazy as you explain how you love me and you can’t do anything about it even though I've told you that it’s never going to happen because you aren't good enough. I can’t wait to always look past you as you do everything in your power to try and make me happy, hook me up with your friends and give me everything, but receive nothing. I can’t wait until you beg me and I can be selfish and make sure you’re giving me what I want, neglecting your own needs, before I push you away using “I’m tired” as an excuse. I can’t wait until you are hurting yourself over me and I have to tell you to stop, as if I give a **** while I continuously put you through pain. I can’t wait until you drunkenly admit all of your feelings and apologize for the mistakes of the past. Even then, I’ll probably still love you, but I won’t give in. You will never have me; because the last time I lent you my heart, you ran with it. I don’t think I’ll ever get it back. And with no heart, I cannot forgive, I can never be whole again. I can’t wait for another chance in another life to break you, like you've broken me. k.d.
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37
She was a wonder of Nature, a special     thing, Had this lovely aura about her The way she held herself, the way she    moved.... way she spoke her words A real classy Lady that's for sure... a proper woman What the hell she was doing with me I don't know. Anyway I invited her to my house one day for tea She so wanted to see where I lived She was only in the door when she playfully ran her little    index finger Along the surface of my little black table in the hall And then holding it up for me to see, for my inspection Revealed a big unsightly blob of dust, a most incriminating    smudge She smiled a cute little reproachful smile "It's true Baby", I said," I've been neglecting things of late, been    letting things slip Ever since I met you, I've been so preoccupied Been so preoccupied with thoughts of you You're always in my head Girl, your... your great beauty, your...your    incredible loveliness You've been driving me to Distraction Baby And Hey! I like the view from down there, it's great! " I had her sit down in my front room, she hadn't been sitting    long When she pointed at the floor, at my carpet "You know you've got a hole there in your carpet, a big hole" And "Look!" she said pointing further down the room "There's another one over there... and another!" "What can I say Babe", I said, "you know you have me half      demented Every night you got me pacing up and down, back and forth You're this beautiful obsession to me Darling You got me walking the floor over you Baby Been thinking about you so hard, and so often Now I plum gone and worn out my bleedin' carpet Worn it out with all my walking". At this she smiled a lovely kind sympathetic smile. When I came back in the room with the tea She said to me, she said "You know over in your corner there Did you know you got a big cobweb and a spider ?" "Oh! I said.....Oh Her! So you met my Spider She's not just any old Spider you know She... she's my... my Love Spider" I said proudly. "Your Love Spider", she said a bit skeptically, "Yea! I never had the heart to take her down Why! She reminds me so much of you Darling Reminds me of how awesome your powers are And how futile it is to resist, Reminds me of how wonderfully caught up I am In your lovely sweet sticky web Of gooey gorgeousness and outrageous delights. With this she looked at me long and hard Until suddenly there broke upon her lips this lovely enchanting smile, "You know", she said,"you're so adorable you are, how I love you so". P.S. "Phew!" I thought to myself,"that was a close one".
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Jun 20, 2020
Jun 20, 2020 at 9:02 AM UTC
I'll do anything for you Baby but I won't clean my house
She was a wonder of Nature, a special     thing, Had this lovely aura about her The way she held herself, the way she    moved.... way she spoke her words A real classy Lady that's for sure... a proper woman What the hell she was doing with me I don't know. Anyway I invited her to my house one day for tea She so wanted to see where I lived She was only in the door when she playfully ran her little    index finger Along the surface of my little black table in the hall And then holding it up for me to see, for my inspection Revealed a big unsightly blob of dust, a most incriminating    smudge She smiled a cute little reproachful smile "It's true Baby", I said," I've been neglecting things of late, been    letting things slip Ever since I met you, I've been so preoccupied Been so preoccupied with thoughts of you You're always in my head Girl, your... your great beauty, your...your    incredible loveliness You've been driving me to Distraction Baby And Hey! I like the view from down there, it's great! " I had her sit down in my front room, she hadn't been sitting    long When she pointed at the floor, at my carpet "You know you've got a hole there in your carpet, a big hole" And "Look!" she said pointing further down the room "There's another one over there... and another!" "What can I say Babe", I said, "you know you have me half      demented Every night you got me pacing up and down, back and forth You're this beautiful obsession to me Darling You got me walking the floor over you Baby Been thinking about you so hard, and so often Now I plum gone and worn out my bleedin' carpet Worn it out with all my walking". At this she smiled a lovely kind sympathetic smile. When I came back in the room with the tea She said to me, she said "You know over in your corner there Did you know you got a big cobweb and a spider ?" "Oh! I said.....Oh Her! So you met my Spider She's not just any old Spider you know She... she's my... my Love Spider" I said proudly. "Your Love Spider", she said a bit skeptically, "Yea! I never had the heart to take her down Why! She reminds me so much of you Darling Reminds me of how awesome your powers are And how futile it is to resist, Reminds me of how wonderfully caught up I am In your lovely sweet sticky web Of gooey gorgeousness and outrageous delights. With this she looked at me long and hard Until suddenly there broke upon her lips this lovely enchanting smile, "You know", she said,"you're so adorable you are, how I love you so". P.S. "Phew!" I thought to myself,"that was a close one".
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57
Deadly pestilence came to distinguished Florence. Spread east to west, roamed sickness without human cure. Divine and human authority disappeared, God’s wrath prohibited remedy and good health. Families emptied, gentlemen fell to corpses. Evil free to **** men indiscriminately, Ignorant doctor’s advice left medicine like filth. Day or night decomposing fortune is death. Sick set aflame in neglecting infinite fire. Disease black with misery, wicked affliction with livid spots. Medicine removed anything. Contact to dead or sick doomed a person sad death. Every part always died. Abandoned all the laws rightful behavior a fallen plight. Faithful shame. Plague is a noble executor’s careless deeds. A woman with no necessity of required morals communicated upon death. Healthy, beautiful, and attractive multitude consumed. Avoid no very past pestilence in the fields. The sick had made servants of the required dwellers.
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Jan 31, 2013
Jan 31, 2013 at 11:34 PM UTC
Black Death
Can I touch your hair? No. Neglecting that I have no knowledge of the sanitation of your hands Nor am I in the mood for questions I do not hold the answers to. My hair speaks of a thousand stories you will not appreciate. My hair speaks for millions of women Darkened by birth or sun. So no, you can’t touch my hair.
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Jan 14, 2015
Jan 14, 2015 at 2:19 PM UTC
Can I touch your hair?
feast for the ancestors who were famished embrace the familiar damage bisou bisou, thankful for the room used to be so stuffy in the old place i left my feelings of inadequacy in my old ways old space, watch the page turn displace metaphors about the days turn is getting older just getting further from my innocent joy? is getting older just pretending that i feel joy? a glimpse of it underneath the books that weigh heavy on my brain trying to understand everything but neglecting vain trying to fulfill the expectations expected of me for my ancestors who were famished i am grateful for the feast
0
Oct 10, 2022
Oct 10, 2022 at 1:18 PM UTC
famished