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"nitroglycerin" poems
Your love is not a hurricane It is not an earthquake It is a sweet, sweet salve to an old heartbreak Your love is not lightning It is not a tidal wave It is a deep, deep breath at the end of a long, hard day Your love is not a fever It's not an addiction It is not my nicotine nitrous Novocaine or nitroglycerin Your love is not suspenseful seismic shellshocking stomach-churning sugar cane saccharine or surprising Every love before you has been a frantic, careful dance of close but not too close honest but not too honest Yet you strange you can look at me from across a room or across a tabletop and there is wonderment, but no wondering passion, but no pondering Defined by choice not whim We always crave the love that is our hurricane Novocaine sugar cane to sap away our pain But what about the love that simply is? Is that what makes it real? Is that what makes love Love?
0
Jun 10, 2013
Jun 10, 2013 at 8:22 PM UTC
Hurricane, Novocaine, Sugar Cane
Looking through a complex eye poisoned by countless vials of nitroglycerin the world sings a familiar tune of an ineradicable human urge for lethal conflict. A world view of culturally intolerant tyrants and a place where Robin Hood does not exist, instead his former self sits wallowing in the tragic misadventures of human dignity. Society now aids the pauper, who is but a superficial vagabond sitting intrigued by hopeless people from distant lands. As the innocent of Beirut lie murdered the reaper tastes regret, while bank accounts paint self portraits instilled by ephemeral yet righteous morality. Dangerously speeding through the lanes of life to make it home just before it rains; the world all encompassing is never the concern. Halos hover above diet pills dressed in simple linens for everything is an easy fix; lies, hatred, ignorance, and blatant evil, all can be fixed by ignoring the even lies (the even lines that lie above).
0
Jul 7, 2010
Jul 7, 2010 at 7:53 PM UTC
Dissonant Livelihood
From where i sit in this puddle of memories my instincts feel like the vague words that form prophecies of yesterday "Run !" they screamed (they meant far and fast) And when i failed to , she did not. "Break!" i heard breathlessly exhaled in a yell ( they meant everything) And where i was weak adhesive begging to bond, she was volatile nitroglycerin   "Forget what it could do to her" ( I longed to much more than i ever understood) And where i remembered, she removed. Instincts. Born not of anything i could see. For sure i thought, Paranoia. But No.   Something in me saw sure. when i could not to myself admit the deadly damage she was capable of inflicting    But were this damage to turn to not be irreperable   I will have been ecstatic to ignore my instincts Though fool it might make me If again i near involuntarily ignore for unbelievable ideals.
0
Mar 19, 2012
Mar 19, 2012 at 2:17 PM UTC
Ingnorantly Ignored my Instincts
relationships are water on the rock erosion rust on iron corrosion a match to nitroglycerin explosions it's love undeniable minor indiscretions unbeknownst to you picked apart it's having someone reliable to leave you stranded and alone in your moments dark joy undescribable when you're stabbed in the heart
0
May 23, 2021
May 23, 2021 at 8:04 PM UTC
Reactions
Microspasmic and ethereal heavenly chords flow inside the avenues and walk ways walled in by different expanses of grey, a monochrome city. If you have time to stand on the escalator I envy you; dread your existence and pity you on a Friday morning when everything is more quiet. Hot sweat growing on my back, my fear and financial disparity exploding on my skin. Fresh roasted coffee beans and legs that prove endless and soft descending from a pink comforter. I walk through the streets in the uncomfortable light of a September morning when the world struggles and it's health declines, but the light of winter is more pure - a planet bathed in cathartic light. I never forgot how you looked on those mornings when it was colder - your face a faded navy in a morning still wrapped in night. The fire escape and scaffolding like bones that hold up our bodies and the life that applies pressure to the structure. Akin to the city you are beautiful in the morning, alive in the day, joyous and free in twilight; restless in sleep. I've found a deep rhapsody in the smile that accompanies your perfume; stepping over a single crushed flower and someone's children sleeping on the street. A sugary leak in and a vengeful glance his way, thirty-eight hour torment. Sitting upright in the bath with your phone resting on the edge waiting for a response, conversation boiled down to a pictorial exchange of genitals: horror that your **** isn't big enough, trepidation that your ****** isn't neat enough. Tuesday saw you take that leap into forever, you come back up once you've drowned. Skin to match your nails. A train derails inside you; a man is stabbed to death. I'm awake and it's real and my bones are filled with molten fire which spits out of compound fractures to my ego. A cup of water. Nitroglycerin collar.
0
Sep 3, 2016
Sep 3, 2016 at 8:29 AM UTC
Nitroglycerin
Microspasmic and ethereal heavenly chords flow inside the avenues and walk ways walled in by different expanses of grey, a monochrome city. If you have time to stand on the escalator I envy you; dread your existence and pity you on a Friday morning when everything is more quiet. Hot sweat growing on my back, my fear and financial disparity exploding on my skin. Fresh roasted coffee beans and legs that prove endless and soft descending from a pink comforter. I walk through the streets in the uncomfortable light of a September morning when the world struggles and it's health declines, but the light of winter is more pure - a planet bathed in cathartic light. I never forgot how you looked on those mornings when it was colder - your face a faded navy in a morning still wrapped in night. The fire escape and scaffolding like bones that hold up our bodies and the life that applies pressure to the structure. Akin to the city you are beautiful in the morning, alive in the day, joyous and free in twilight; restless in sleep. I've found a deep rhapsody in the smile that accompanies your perfume; stepping over a single crushed flower and someone's children sleeping on the street. A sugary leak in and a vengeful glance his way, thirty-eight hour torment. Sitting upright in the bath with your phone resting on the edge waiting for a response, conversation boiled down to a pictorial exchange of genitals: horror that your **** isn't big enough, trepidation that your ****** isn't neat enough. Tuesday saw you take that leap into forever, you come back up once you've drowned. Skin to match your nails. A train derails inside you; a man is stabbed to death. I'm awake and it's real and my bones are filled with molten fire which spits out of compound fractures to my ego. A cup of water. Nitroglycerin collar.
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10
It's 8:00 and we have our whole lives ahead of us Life is silly I suppose this is who I am for the time being, it will pass As everything does So judge away, I'll play the defendant Bang your gavel and give me the sentence It's only a life time It won't mean a thing in your eyes There's you , then there's me That's just it That's all we need to know To each their own The quietness, silent only because they cannot scream for help forever I think the nitroglycerin worsened my cough Mother's face has been shot off But father doesn't cry His crippling soft lies So I take my over stuffed overnight bag and leave Eons later, The Wolf, The Coyote and The Raven come And then all was well in the western hemisphere All fires dissipated and they all began to rebuild, this time stronger than before        -Tommy Johnson
0
Jun 2, 2014
Jun 2, 2014 at 12:58 PM UTC
It's 8:00 and We Have Our Whole Lives Ahead of Us
you know what happens to them. or maybe you don’t. maybe you’re still caught in the flood. that’s okay. it’s better to drown than to burn. don’t you think? don’t you think? don’t you think? it comes to me in two distinct shapes. (distinct. are they distinct? to me, yes, but i suppose to you they are just as shapeless as i am to you.) him. my beautiful idiot. though his hair and eyes are dark as night, i know there are sparks that lie there, dormant. waiting to be ignited. but he makes me smile, makes me laugh so hard my stomach begins to hurt. i haven’t felt a good hurt in such a long time. the lips of his ghost leave an afterimage on my neck. he likes to watch the color rise to my cheeks, likes to watch me squirm. he thinks i’m worth something. her. my ethereal starry girl trapped in a rotting sack of flesh. she wants out. she wants out. i know she will supernova anytime. it will be just as beautiful and terrible as she is, but i don’t want her to go. she keeps me from floating away, even if i am so unbearably heavy as a result. she protects me, loves me. she always tells me so. i can still feel her hands on mine. they’re warm. she thinks i’m worth everything. but it doesn’t matter which form it takes. it always ends the same. they kiss me (hold me protect me embrace me touch me touch me touch me touch) and they burn. they always burn. it’s because of me, i know it’s because of me. this can’t be my skin then, it can’t be. it must be gasoline or gunpowder or nitroglycerin or god i don’t know but don’t touch me don’t touch me don’t touch me don’t touch
0
Feb 18, 2018
Feb 18, 2018 at 5:21 AM UTC
don’t love things that burn
you know what happens to them. or maybe you don’t. maybe you’re still caught in the flood. that’s okay. it’s better to drown than to burn. don’t you think? don’t you think? don’t you think? it comes to me in two distinct shapes. (distinct. are they distinct? to me, yes, but i suppose to you they are just as shapeless as i am to you.) him. my beautiful idiot. though his hair and eyes are dark as night, i know there are sparks that lie there, dormant. waiting to be ignited. but he makes me smile, makes me laugh so hard my stomach begins to hurt. i haven’t felt a good hurt in such a long time. the lips of his ghost leave an afterimage on my neck. he likes to watch the color rise to my cheeks, likes to watch me squirm. he thinks i’m worth something. her. my ethereal starry girl trapped in a rotting sack of flesh. she wants out. she wants out. i know she will supernova anytime. it will be just as beautiful and terrible as she is, but i don’t want her to go. she keeps me from floating away, even if i am so unbearably heavy as a result. she protects me, loves me. she always tells me so. i can still feel her hands on mine. they’re warm. she thinks i’m worth everything. but it doesn’t matter which form it takes. it always ends the same. they kiss me (hold me protect me embrace me touch me touch me touch me touch) and they burn. they always burn. it’s because of me, i know it’s because of me. this can’t be my skin then, it can’t be. it must be gasoline or gunpowder or nitroglycerin or god i don’t know but don’t touch me don’t touch me don’t touch me don’t touch
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5
Anxiety through the roof Sweaty shakey palms Concentrated sweat wiping X’s off my hands To get glass of Jack And lean back and relax Another ****** relapse Of the mind losing my time Another ******* pointless line packed up Like im homebound passed the Disease around With more depression and stress In my legs quivering Knee caps busted nitroglycerin   combustion in my chest Because no one is ******* listening
0
Sep 16, 2015
Sep 16, 2015 at 2:57 PM UTC
Vices
The woman I was supposed to marry moved away long ago And no matter how hard I tried to follow the dust trails I only ever came up short of breath In the end of days where it's always night we spend time in a broken down watering hole on the edge of purgatory and listen to muffled bomb blasts bleeding on through to the other side When she laughs she stares up at the ceiling and I can see traces of repressed horror welling up in her eyes I can tell she's thinking about nitroglycerin sweat and splintered cells and scattered shells before it all goes down In the retro cartoon relapse nightmare I've conjured for us to spend our time The television flickers with the hissing reluctance of reporters telling us to prepare for another invasion She finally speaks. "You know there are no real sides right? You know that back home there's just dodging fire and not necessarily knowing who it's from?" She takes another drink and tells me "You could have come for me, you know? You didn't have to sit stateside with endless excuses while the rest of us had to be there on the blurred front lines. Still...I want to be with you now. Here I am trying to look my best. I like to wear brightly colored ribbons woven into my hair and don't bother to cover all the scars...because that's who I am. they can't take it back and neither can I..." She pauses to brush tears from her face and finishes with "...and I think everyone wants to look nice for the one they love".
0
Jul 18, 2014
Jul 18, 2014 at 7:59 PM UTC
Strip Bar
fizzy love wild days like dynamite and lit fuses you were explosive
0
Apr 9, 2019
Apr 9, 2019 at 3:01 PM UTC
Nitroglycerin
By Arcassin Burnham I'd jump in front of a train with battery acid in my Heart and nitroglycerin in my system just to show You that I love you for the sake of meeting you and being in Your line of sight, I know I won't get any sleep tonight, cause without you my death would flutter into a million butterflies with lies that could not tell the truth, Your my only hope for maintaining my youth, And possibly my future, I won't hurt you, And I don't give a **** what your parents say, I belong to you, From the acne on my face and the sweat Of my brow, I'd give all my soul to you and then walk Out into the crowd of the people that have a second chances at love, The only thing I'm dreaming of, The only one that I could trust, I'm not an attention grabbing glory seeker Muching off the souls of my peers, I miss the days when there would be just You and me and these tears, I cherish days when I'd be kissing you Above in treetops, My heart only beats for you in fact you know It won't stop, I'm so in love with you.
0
Oct 21, 2016
Oct 21, 2016 at 11:47 AM UTC
~so in luv~
The library was quiet Silent ischemia read a book called Myocardial infarction The radio played techno tachycardia While myocardium got high on nitroglycerin It was quiet I whispered yet no one was listening I heard a heart murmur something Into the echocardiography It echoed edema edema edema It was there I rested in lipid I knew my heart was broken The day she said she was leaving It was then my diagnosis became cerebral thrombosis I had a cerebrovascular accident And I lost my mind With my heart underfoot of my lover Now I'm searching for a surgeon To put it all back together
0
Dec 21, 2018
Dec 21, 2018 at 2:15 AM UTC
Sphygmomanometer