"nuggets" poems
Stumbling into ancient scripts, authored a decades plus ago,
ago being a modifier of time quantities, minute or large, unspecific
without an objective adjective additive, that faucets a stream of an interlocutory elocution of a batter of rooted emotional histories,
but not histrionics
fanciful words for dredged up memories, acute, but tarnished,
powered yet worn by a cousin of ago, a/k/a,
age
and yet
renews as of,
at this very second, as if it were a first, a tumult of visions, swelling of remembrances, embodied scars, and I weep anew but not
for me, as much for the resonating simpatico souls with whom
they even now vibrate with resonance of the immediacy of
If not now, When?
Aside: The exterior environment is noisy wet pelting of thunderstorms and ****** sheets of bulleting rain, piercing projectiles, but I am safe in the sunroom, sadly happy my dog is no longer here to shiver and tremble, cuddle and be soothed by steady stroking
But I am here, wrestling with this dredging operation, digging up
tons of sand that require dumping, and I ask, inquire, beg:
Who will take this detritus off my hands, once more, now uncovered,
now recovered, the soil is already soaked and can absorb no more,
the soul is already soaked and can absorb no more, the weakened
heart, damaged and occluded, suffer cannot bare twice the
outrageous misfortune
of unbared recollections, twice, or thrice, and I feel myself drowning in revisiting pain, **** **** **** these old poems, not nuggets, but boulders dropping from night skies, shot from a pitching machine, without letup, piercing of agonies that once ago
freshly desecrated and decorated my basic training in humanity.
Enough whining:
*I wrote those poems to
eject out those pains,
and I write this now, once more,
to realize that so so many still face
uncertain and unrelenting similarities,
doing their own sums,
and I wish them easing,
strength to compose and
thereby dispose of
the ineloquent
and eloquent
words of staining suffering*
3:30am
Thur
July 10
2025
Jul 16, 2025
Jul 16, 2025 at 5:39 PM UTC
Fat people have no heads.
They end at the shoulders,
they are clipped off at the neck.
Never talk to fat people.
You may talk to an expert,
to a dietitian or a doctor
but never to a real live fat person
because fat people have no heads.
Use the word Epidemic
at least once, especially
if children are involved.
Children are always involved,
so use the word Epidemic
at least once. Fat children
still have heads, usually;
only fat adults must be
d e c a p i t a t e d.
Because he still has his head
you may talk to a fat child,
especially if you offer him
a box of chicken nuggets.
Entice him to say Alarming Things
with a box of chicken nuggets.
After the word Epidemic
segue from concerned anchorwoman
to stock footage of fat headless girl
browsing the racks at J.C. Penny’s.
Segue to fat headless mom
walking with her fat headless son
on a sidewalk populated by
fat headless pedestrians.
Voice-over Alarming Things
about fat headless people
not getting enough exercise
and segue to fat headless man
stuffing his fingers into a box
of McDonald’s french fries.
Fat people eat only McDonald’s
french fries and we will be right
back with more on this story
after a word from our sponsors.
Cue McDonald’s theme song.
Pretty people Golden Arches
laughing with their heads
as they eat McDonald’s french fries
with their heads
and never gain a pound.
Jan 6, 2012
Jan 6, 2012 at 5:58 PM UTC
Oh my God
Yes
There it is
A signal of hope
For all hungry travelers
Those golden arches
Beaming within the night air
It’s enough to make those weak of heart cry
Burst into joyful tears
Open at 2 o’ clock?
They must’ve known we were coming
Thank you, for the all night drive through
Pupils glazed like donuts
Donuts donuts donuts
McDonalds should serve donuts
Back on track
Big mac
Impending heart attack
The pit that is my stomach
Cannot be satisfied
Throw in about
Five McDoubles
Chick nuggets
And fries….
Mountains upon mountains of fries…
Excuse me,
I need to fall asleep now
Dec 28, 2010
Dec 28, 2010 at 1:43 AM UTC
two days
before we loaded the car
with what seemed like the entirety
of my heart and belongings
to move me across the state to attend college,
my baby brother found me on the kitchen floor,
crying
about the microwave.
well,
not just the microwave.
he found me in a crumpled up heap,
sobbing that this day
would be the last i had
to microwave things
in
this
particular
microwave.
i couldn’t justify my lament then.
my dad chalked it up to ***
my brother called me a drama queen,
and my mom told me i needed to eat less microwaveable things.
but i think i might’ve figured it out now.
five months later.
y’see, i grew up an ARMY brat.
attended five different elementary schools,
two separate middle schools,
one high school,
and two colleges.
i was never good at saying goodbye,
but i’m a pro at walking away.
i found out quickly
that while the faces and names
of my friends and classmates
change from state to state,
the character tropes
stay basically the same.
people and places become such replaceable things.
i worry,
a lot,
about being a replaceable thing.
there are talented people in this world.
people that can divine the past and future
from coffee grounds and tea leaves.
but can anyone here tell me what kinds of awful things my footsteps say about me?
there are boot marks,
with my name on them,
in places i know i should never have been.
and clumps of dirt stuck to my heels
that have been with me longer than some friends have.
i sat on the floor last night
while my love explained physics to me.
he told me
that gravity is a constant force,
and of course,
the earth’s gravity affects each and every one of us.
but our individual gravity affects the earth as well.
according to newton’s third law,
the earth pulls of me
with the same force that i pull on the earth.
my mass disrupts space time.
carl sagan once told me
through the clarifying prism of the television screen,
that we are all stardust,
collapsed suns
and black matter.
we belong to no place.
i belong to no place.
i belong to no place.
i don’t cry about the microwave anymore,
i don’t waste my tears on saying goodbye.
i know that every thing and every one has their time,
and sometimes that time is brief.
it’s a hard pill to swallow,
ultimately my favorite self descriptor is ‘infallible’.
but somedays, i fall
just to stand up and see:
the sun still rises,
the earth still turns,
the microwave still makes bomb-ass chicken nuggets,
and i am still here.
Nov 16, 2016
Nov 16, 2016 at 11:28 AM UTC
for Alyssa Underwood
~~~
my poems do not trend, go viral,
Fast and Furious!
yet, they do not die
they lay in plain sight pebbles scattered,
smoothed by time,
upon the surface of the
green earth waiting patient, virtuous,
purposed for itinerants bards
to trip over one
one some someday
somehow they accrete a readership,
slow stepping and steady from,
|the seekers and the stumblers,
the droplet drinkers,
meanderers of the tomes and tombs of prior years,
miners for nuggets in the poem pools that form
beneath the alluvial streaming
of the waterfall crescendo
of words
I like this
when another traveler sends me a like,
a petite amuse-bouche bite of appreciation,
for a long ago, barely recalled, writ,
allowing them to carve their initials upon the
external, visible roots of my tree trunk,
invading me, by darkening a prior tree internal ring,
forcing me to look down,
look back,
take measure of myself,
accepting myself as not wanting,
nor lacking in other's acceptance
these statements are neither boastful or illusory,
*yet still joyous, like caramel pleasures,
slow to chew, fast to the taste,*
reminding me of old friendships,
well valued,
though no longer fully employed,
their uncovering is my own refreshed exposure,
their discovery is my own re-discovery,
exposing flaws and fallacies,
even fallow,
mostly shallow facts
about me
all of them,
a sundae of truths and lies, sharing a happy laugh
with and at
me,
when I think to myself,
Holy Crap! did I write that?
copyright 2015 by Nat Lipstadt
Oct 8, 2015
Oct 8, 2015 at 3:35 PM UTC
My pen, the shovel, you have one too,
that digs for nuggets,
of gold and finds coal.
Messy writing shuffle,
pen and ink, hug its
place on my paper soul.
The trick is like finding truffles,
writing to spread the fungus,
add heat, duress, be an atoll,
and
you may
produce a gem
a diamond in the rough is
still a diamond.
Apr 23, 2013
Apr 23, 2013 at 1:49 AM UTC
To you I may just be a grain of sand, caught between your toes
But you will not have my experience, so you cannot know
How it feels to float on a shark fin or rest on a mermaid's breast
Or do a jig with a conga eel, now that really was the best
So before you cast me aside to clean your human foot
Take a super duper microscope and take a closer look
At me and my sparkly sandy compatriots as we glisten in the light
A dazzling array of shell fragments and glass nuggets so bright!
Sep 19, 2014
Sep 19, 2014 at 6:10 PM UTC
At the end of the pier you could look out to sea
Listening to the swell flap on the rusty cast iron
Of geometrical supports.
Barnacles clung, sealed like gold nuggets
And in the distance the slow **** of a tanker.
The wind would whisk around the terminal
Throwing hair to the sky
Floating chandelier skirts tipped
Revealing best underwear.
And the clock sang its time to the birds.
Over both sides were fishing rod rows
Their owners sitting on canvas stools
Above seagulls nibbled the air for food scraps
And beneath strong swimmers bobbed
Watching children skim pebbles in the waves.
Love Mary xxxx
Apr 28, 2018
Apr 28, 2018 at 10:34 AM UTC
**Tupac said: **** the world**
And on the first day he wept
**Tupac said: **** the world**
Because he knew God had slept
**Tupac said: **** the world**
No promises to be broken or kept
**Tupac said: **** the world**
This baby was already in debt
**Tupac said: **** the world**
In anger there is no word of thanks
**Tupac said: **** the world**
*He **** sure wasn't shooting blanks*
**Tupac said: **** the world**
So I ask why am I so sheltered?
**Tupac said: **** the world**
And act so self-centered?
**Tupac said: **** the world**
Is it because my Mom held me?
**Tupac said: **** the world**
And she was always there for me?
**Tupac said: **** the world**
Why can't I see his point of view?
**Tupac said: **** the world**
Why are white people so scared of you?
**Tupac said: **** the world**
He was a product of real life
**Tupac said: **** the world**
His bottle was a switchblade knife
**Tupac said: **** the world**
Yeah we thought he was a criminal
**Tupac said: **** the world**
His anger was not so subliminal
**Tupac said: **** the world**
So while we give thanks and pray
**Tupac said: **** the world**
It seems we really just look away
**Tupac said: **** the world**
Man what's wrong with that boy?
**Tupac said: **** the world**
A gun in his hand ain't no toy
**Tupac said: **** the world**
Where was he supposed to go?
**Tupac said: **** the world**
*What if you were raised by a **
**Tupac said: **** the world**
Are we in a position to judge?
**Tupac said: **** the world**
Maybe it's us we should begrudge
**Tupac said: **** the world**
What should offend you more?
**Tupac said: **** the world**
The reality you try to ignore?
**Tupac said: **** the world**
The shock of all the profanity?
**Tupac said: **** the world**
Or the fact of his poverty?
**Tupac said: **** the world**
He knew he was disposable
**Tupac said: **** the world**
A gangsta rappers's not so lovable
**Tupac said: **** the world**
That was the only way to survive
**Tupac said: **** the world**
Nobody cared if he lived or died
**Tupac said: **** the world**
The industry only wants the money
**Tupac said: **** the world**
But they never called him honey
**Tupac said: **** the world**
He was dead before he was born
**Tupac said: **** the world**
But he could rhyme about scorn
**Tupac said: **** the world**
And now he's dead and gone
**Tupac said: **** the world**
Did you think he was wrong?
**Tupac said: **** the world**
He knew how to die better than you
**Tupac said: **** the world**
What do you pay attention to?
**Tupac said: **** the world**
Reality tv and some situation?
**Tupac said: **** the world**
*Being trendy and ************
**Tupac said: **** the world**
The money really didn't really matter
**Tupac said: **** the world**
He kept up the harsh street chatter
**Tupac said: **** the world**
He wasn't climbing no social ladder
**Tupac said: **** the world**
Because his heart could never gather
**Tupac said: **** the world**
All the Lord's blessings
**Tupac said: **** the world**
Like flowers and angel's wings
**Tupac said: **** the world**
Living on the streets instead
**Tupac said: **** the world**
Where the ladder is full of lead
**Tupac said: **** the world**
The lead of pain and bullets
**Tupac said: **** the world**
And not soft golden nuggets
**Tupac said: **** the world**
Of love and tenderness
**Tupac said: **** the world**
Just blood and nothingness
**Tupcac said: **** the world**
So who is holding him now?
**Tupac said: **** the world**
Is he where love will allow?
**Tupac said: **** the world**
A man to become a boy?
**Tupac said: **** the world**
A boy with happiness to enjoy?
**Tupac said: **** the world**
You don't like gangstas rapping like crooks
**Tupac said: **** the world**
There's no page for him in the good book
**Tupac said: **** the world**
Were his sins from his mother and father?
**Tupac said: **** the world**
And those who would string up a brother
**Tupac said: **** the world**
Try to just say no when your ship ain't sailin'
**Tupac said: **** the world**
Hey God what is it that you were sayin'?
Feb 1, 2012
Feb 1, 2012 at 2:06 PM UTC
She was like the iron pyrite
The teacher asked them to examine, and describe;
Cold, dense and prickly,
Difficult to love.
Given the right light
And a gentle handling,
Oh, how she'd sparkle,
But in that place, expectations and sensory overload
rendered her lumpen, and resistant.
Removed from her books and her inner world - all she needed -
And placed in a maelstrom,
She was bewildered and forlorn.
Un-cooperative, they called her,
And the teachers loved the other gems instead,
Pretty little nuggets; Ruby, Jasper, Jade.
Two years of discouragement and dislike
And even the tentative sparkles had darkened.
The other gems enjoyed each other
And moved away from her magnetic pull,
sensing difference.
No outright meanness, not yet,
But hints were brewing, whispers had started
And she wandered alone, in the playground,
Talking to the seagulls, and singing to herself.
The teachers only wanted conformity
And called her parents to voice concern
about her lack of friends.
Had they asked her, allowed her to have a say
She would have told them it didn't matter
But they were determined that it did, to them, if not to her,
And her parents were added to the burden of people
Worried and disappointed, watching.
She knew now, she was different, she had always known but never minded,
Now it was a problem. She didn't fit,
Like that scratchy purple uniform, around her chubby waist
Food didn't judge, dislike or condemn.
That life ended, and a new struggle, in a new school, began.
This was harder; the meanness was apparent now,
Difference wasn't tolerated
And someone wandering alone was a target.
She found a place to hide, behind a staircase, with a book,
But they found her, removed her and patrolled her only refuge
Forcing her to submit to the torture.
Every day was a war zone,
So she found another way, and embraced ill-health, stealthily
Spraying deodorant directly into her own face
induced asthma attacks; and not all those ear infections were real,
She was an accomplished actress.
She got through it, millions do.
She found her own place, her own friends in her own time.
Among Onyx, Jet and Tigers Eye
Her darkness didn't mark her out as different,
And all that fake illness
Was great prep for theatre,
Where she was able to return to her inner world,
And no-one cared if you feigned madness
Or embraced the real thing.
Difference was celebrated,
The whispers now, were that she had a great stage presence,
And a talent to be nurtured,
Not a difference to be despised.
Sep 17, 2013
Sep 17, 2013 at 4:35 AM UTC
three's up
i'm throwing my life away
throwing my three's up
three **** summers in a row
three nights in the slammer
three days getting drunk
been thinking about all my exes a lot
been thinking about you a lot
and how we'd spend the night doing homework
and then sleeping together
used to get me chicken nuggets afterwards
and now you know what goes on in my brain
*** programming and chicken nuggets
from mcdonalds
Oct 24, 2017
Oct 24, 2017 at 3:22 PM UTC
In the mango tree
a pair of crows
have made a new home.
While up on the roof
watering the plants
I see the heavenly sight
how they raise their beak
to swallow the trickles
before the heat ***** away
and having this little favor
they're back in usual mood
cawing at their hoarsest
*stay away, stay away
come no way near nest*
which I do my best to do
stealing a look when they're away
at the three blue nuggets
happy in the thought of
little red hungry mouths
broken
the mangoes would grow
around an empty home.
May 2, 2017
May 2, 2017 at 9:52 AM UTC
come along with me
lets look into the life
of the common garden pea
maybe you like them
maybe you do not
but these are my words to
the common garden pea
from me to them
we have all seen them
and had to work out how we eat them
better stuck in mash potato
than balanced on the knife or fork
kids just distribute them so neatly
on the table and the floor
then hold up there plate
and ask for some more
but have you tried to grow them?
if not come on a journey with me
plant some peas in the soil
water them liberally
then let the season warm the earth
after about 14 days or so
you will see little green shoots
place some sticks in
for the peas
likes something to hold on
just like you and me
for the pea has a hard life
as the season moves on
the pea holds out little tendon
that grip on the sticks
then the snails move in
danger will robertson
for in one night
the snail can ****** all of these
the peas that do survive
suddenly come alive
shooting up like rockets
then after the flowers form
all white in the sun
the pods form
and in them form the peas
those sweet nuggets
we love called garden peas
Aug 25, 2012
Aug 25, 2012 at 2:06 PM UTC
Sometimes I wish I didn't feel
I wish my heart was made of stone
That I was immune to all this ****
Of being on my own
My world is full of cockwombles
Fuckwits & ***** trumpets
**** burglars & **** puddles
**** stains & **** nuggets!
And those are just the few
That I've had the joy of meeting
I'd like to dare the rest to meet
Somewhere - however fleeting
Stand up and be counted
You liars, cheats and cads
You wazzocks & jebends
I'll grab you by the ******
Because I've simply had enough
Of being treated like a tool
Of believing all the **** you spout
Like some poor pathetic fool
I cannot shake the feeling
That the stupidity I feel
Is down to the betrayal
Of all the lies that you conceal
So I'm giving up compassion
To empathy goodbye
And to trusting blindly what I'm told
Farewell & fuckety bye!
(C) Pixievic 2016
Mar 1, 2016
Mar 1, 2016 at 12:42 PM UTC
im thankful
for blankets, microwaves
and dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets.
you say your thankful
for trees, air, sleep and turkey
and i say im thankful for my dog
and then you say your thankful for microwaves, too.
and then i say
im thankful for you.
and you pause-
then you smile
and you say
and you too.
Nov 28, 2013
Nov 28, 2013 at 9:58 PM UTC
the salt and pepper of life
the rich nuggets
precious little details
that we miss
in our overwhelm
the little jewels
of everyday life
that make it
so sweet
so
much
to
be
thankful
for
all the days of our lives
cj 2016
May 20, 2016
May 20, 2016 at 12:04 AM UTC
A little girl with the bluest eyes I'd ever seen
asked me if I know what happens when we die.
I smiled, and was about to answer when she said,
Don't worry. I'll tell you.
*My mommy says it's like a big party,
and everyone that I know will be there,
each one having the time of his life.
Mommy says that God will have
chicken nuggets and Mac and cheese there
just for me, because he knows it's my favorite!
Isn't that sweet?*
She smiled again, and went on to tell of
streets of gold, and a place
without pain, illness, or death-
a utopia of sorts,
and a God who made it all,
and who loves me specifically.
Her mother called out
*Sophia! What did I say about talking to strangers sweetie?
Come here!*
Sophia smiled, told me
she couldn't wait to see me again in heaven,
and went running off with her ponytail
swinging from one shoulder to another...
leaving me wishing that I believed it too.
After all, I really love mac and cheese.
Feb 26, 2013
Feb 26, 2013 at 9:30 PM UTC
Neuroeconomic
Amalgam
Uninitiated
But prescient
Drumming to remember
All last September
Kernels
Nuggets
Mirroring
Neurons
Can take down
Neocons
\|/
Signals
/|\
Subtle infrequent
Lullabies flow into
A numinous bassline
Reverberating Ohm
Indivisible
Mitosis
Becoming us
As the egg aspires
Divine feminine
Holding space
For the new
Phoenix rising
Nov 16, 2014
Nov 16, 2014 at 4:03 PM UTC
The smell of stale french fries
and E.coli coated beef
the raw onions and garlic cloves
stunk up the kitchen and watered my eyes
no ice in the drink machines...
but plenty of warm pop
Chicken nuggets with 16 new herbs
and spices and hot fudge Sundays, without the hot fudge
banana splits with rotten bananas
and the tomatoes weren't that fresh either
the cheese was moldy and the buns, moldier
The advertisements claimed "Have it your way"
it wasn't my way, it was their way
I paid a dollar fifty ordering off the dollar menu
it was a ripoff....
I spoke to the manager
and the manager spit in my face
and said "Have a nice day"
it wasn't a nice day, it wasn't a nice day at all....
Dec 30, 2015
Dec 30, 2015 at 2:45 AM UTC
I am a golden being king
of all beasts sent by God,
to keep on searching for
all of truth.
Shinning fleeces glazing, almost
lazy, soaking up the sun.
My eyes held above the crowd
I sit back looking and looking.
Golden manes flowing with winds
keep on blowing. Yellow flames
keep on bellowing as the truth
keeps on coming.
I hear the sound of armies fleeing
as all my openness becomes
my strength.
My life an open book spreading
miles across facebook nothing
hidden all in view.
My honesty more brazen and bolder
than the Roman Empire.
As the world steps back I am unfolding
12 foot tall keep on growing.
Golden nuggets once hidden
now shinning.
I rattle the enemy to the core with
my dark ROAR the recesses of my
being turning over like an engine.
As there is not a part of my being
I have not seen all shadows disappear
with my seeing.
I turn the world upside down inside out
as all dark hidden corners become
white shinning teeth.
Ferociously I tackle the world
with a fearless truth.
Roaring into battle my open heart
devours all lies and untruth.
Let us charge
let us charge
Let the
fires burn
fires burn
As all is unified in this battle
for the streams of Gold and silver
For with no sacrifice there can be
nothing gained.
Driven forward and lifted up an
honor deep inside carries us
into battle.
So tonight my friend take me on
let us fight
be my brother
For now is a good time to die.
For the truth shall **** us all
but in the same way save us.
So my friend my brother
let us fight together
as we serve the golden King
Wear his crest upon our chest.
As all men fall within the limits
of their own lies let us hold the flag
of truth above us.
Let us die in the lies we beat to the
ground to be reborn within the truth
we hold above our head.
Living life with the glorious
King of beasts
the Golden Lion King.
Holding truth above our
own being we may proudly
bring love and dignity
to all of GODS Kingdom.
As all order is maintained
while he sits upon his throne.
Dec 14, 2016
Dec 14, 2016 at 5:03 PM UTC
rocking the metal pan
side to side, agitate
the sand so swirling
water
lets gravity push the
worthless sediment
over the edges into the
pool
gravel-dust gathers
momentum
swarming in a circular current
allowing the golden
nuggets to sink to the
base
fingers as feet through
quicksand
explore the grey salt-swamp
cold makes them slow and dumb
soft skin complains as grains
scratch skin a thousand times
toy fingernails clawing
catch a lump, hold it
between
thumb and finger, bulge with
fulfilment as your gobbet
glints beneath its caked mud
set the pan upon rocks
clasping tightly, pull the
stone through the pool,
freeing
it from the clinging dust
release it from the depths
of the crocodile water
and the ugly mound of
chalky mud submerged will
be caterpillar to
butterfly, a solid
gold nugget lying fat
on the face of your
soggy outstretched palm.
Mar 19, 2012
Mar 19, 2012 at 9:29 AM UTC
*Wild native branches - A jungle-green canopy sheltering this ever-flowing stream that runs rapidly,
most steadily, to and fro my heart.
Ancient autumn leaves weaved into an intricate, detailed, complex, rustic carpet, concealing paths and footprints leading in and out of my mind.
Forty two springs worth of magnificent arrays of wildflowers decorate each serene scene bordering this stream - each cluster a chapter of my life.
These scattered wild arrangements, with their heavenly scent, delight my senses - they are most pleasing to my mind's eye.
There's gold dust, nuggets, and precious gemstones, hidden in the gravel, they're also buried in the bedrock of this stream, and in the river that it feeds.
This stream is a constant source, feeding my hungry heart and mind.
The river that is fed by this stream
is my soul - this ever-flowing stream is a corridor which runs to and fro my heart; it carries the oxygen in my blood, through my veins.
Whilst manoeuvering around the stepping-stones that are laid-out sporadically, most beautifully, but imperfectly, across this stream,
THEY, double cross me;
A highway, used to get to where THEY are going, time and time again.
~By Lady R.F ©2016*
Oct 28, 2016
Oct 28, 2016 at 7:59 PM UTC
I woke up this morning and felt like doing some cutting
Just for the heck of it.
I didn't, if only because I had no reason
I had no time
I made two promises,
And with them, I never lie.
Got up, dressed, finished a project due by 2:30
Before school starts my brother comes down
Scale in hand, telling me to get on so he can see if he weighs more
Always wanting to be taller, weigh more
So I can be his 'little sister'
I sigh, step on. Expecting my usual of 90-92
86
Freak out mode: on.
I forgot to eat properly over the last 24 hours, maybe that's it
I only got 5 hours of sleep the last 2 nights, maybe that's it
I've been really stressed by school, maybe that's it
Almost time to go and somehow I still can't eat, I don't want to.
I need to though.
Let me explain this: I normally weigh about 92 pounds
95 is what I should weigh
I need to gain weight anyway, but high metabolisms don't like that
So usually I am 3 pounds underweight
Today it was about 10.
Go to school, should eat but don't want to
Standing, waiting, anticipating what?
Hand my friend three cookies, I tell the group my problem
One cookie handed back(other two previously eaten)
Told to eat by four friends, too hard to explain why I can't eat
Numerous reminders to eat
Lunch: I'm handed some chicken nuggets, ice cream
Half jokingly threatened that I won't be talked to unless I eat
Begged to eat
Strangely: I have no such desire
I have minimal amounts of body fat(less than 10 percent)
But even so, I can feel weight missing,
The absence of my already flat belly, surreal to think about
I still don't feel like eating, not really hungry
No other explanation
Friend tells me to pig out when I get home
Quiz bowl after school and I'm only ever so slightly hungry
But not much
A friend steals my gym shoes, mom comes
At home I eat some butter and honeyed toast, tea, candied ginger, half a thing of crackers
Report to friend # 2 who then proceeds to command me to eat more, and interrogates on why I'm not eating
Tell friend # 1 as well, his approval expressed
Dinner and afterwards I only feel hungrier... so strange.
I check the scale again
89
Better, but still too low.
I need to work on this...
Dec 7, 2012
Dec 7, 2012 at 11:57 PM UTC
They are a good team
They come in like a thunder
Storm they play with all their
Heart they go out like
A thunder storm
Oklahoma thunder
Oklahoma thunder
They might win some games
They might lose some games
But they are a wonderful team
Oklahoma thunder
Players play like a team they
Will always be my 2 favorite
NBA team my first favorite
NBA team are Denver nuggets
Oklahoma thunder
© Amanda Kay Hill
1/13/17
Jan 15, 2017
Jan 15, 2017 at 1:55 AM UTC
Bleak the rays shattered through broken panes
life, dust, dust, future and smoke
automobiles and gunshots solitary this hour
when screams rend the air, not my turn today -
no, not as yet. Mother, I want to rest my head
in your lap. Can I weep?
*Cactus in my soul, I ask, Can I, all that I am?
Lust is the death of man. Gouge your eye that lusts.
Broken void of my afterdays, that mourn
like the wind on the dunes*
Mother, I am well. There is love, there is hope, light
hidden like nuggets in piles of the dark.
Mother, I must be well.
It was the other night. Nightmare in loop.
Shamed, stripped beaten violated.
I am in a well, deep pit, drained
of all the essence of light
I can hear your voice echoing with the ray
shattered tumbling down the walls
*free, free I am the wind mourning in the dunes
can you tame the wind?*
In the depths, and in the deaths islanding life
mirage of oases, Mother, I have found him,
my Senor, to whom I give my ring
Violate me, visage of the abyss,
burn me, but can you find me?
beat me, chain me, but can you enslave me?
I am not here in these nerves and veins.
I am all of Augusta, America,
I fly in the Masts above the skies
*Sweet Lord, I see you have deemed heaven
for me, no purgatory but here.
I accept, I surrender, I submit. To thy will.*
Mother, do not negotiate. I am strong.
Where in my naked body have you found me?
here, in these bruises, have your embers soothed?
I am the Lamb that does not cower.
I haunt your soul as guilt.
In what little's left of it.
*He finds you in the catacombs where
I haunt the crypts that no vicar penetrates.
When all is lost, when death is certain at the sea,
there opens a way and I will walk out*
Mother, I am coming. Have faith, for faith maketh.
I hold you here in my ***** smouldering pain,
that gets me to wake every haunting day.
Every day that brings the sound of darkness home.
*I fly in the Masts above the skies.
Tame me, I am the wind breaking the dunes.
Ilohi, lema sebachtani sebachtani*
Aug 19, 2015
Aug 19, 2015 at 12:36 PM UTC