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"offsetting" poems
is like no other early morning, man reborn, in the delivery room of sky blue, the offsetting water deeper bluish hue, the trim-all-around of the mixed salad greens of the staff's scrubs as they usher in unity,  with no imp-unity, the risks, while the supervisory sky, disperses cumulus clouds in peppercorn patterns of white chains, or big wide solitary brushstrokes on a a ****** canvas, gettin' the feel in the palm of the heft of brush, the viscosity of the paint, the day's palette reflecting available colors in order to create a uni~cued original of what has been painted an uncountable times before, and before… tho short weighted, was the sleep of the prior night's restful, he awakes to the early morning light, the sounds of early island rouse him, even, arouse him, for the August chill foretells of the early onset of memory loss of the peculiarities of this summered simmering, human warming and baking and natural braking of the slowing of the heart rate, to better accommodate, nature's hints and hidden reminiscences of the true purpose of the summer's intervention upon our collective and unique bottling, our individualized containers, un~lidded, uncovered, eager for the fuel of sunrays replenish- ing the length of our lives by the elixir of the summer it is a chill 63 Fahrenheit at this time of day as we crossover to the nigh day, from the cooling air conditions of dark, the occasional helicopter intrudes upon the morning's calm, the water placid, the geese honking regarding my watchful rewarding presence, a slew, a bevy, of female vocalists, to ease this transitory performance unfolding, and though one feels the existential of his solitary singularity, as he thinks, nay believes, he is the only one in attendance at this ritualized emergence, he takes in the cool of, the heat of, the admixture of both, the clashing integers of each, and he, fully invigorated, goes silent, for once more, he has uncovered new combinations of old words to accept and describe a new day's creation, miracle of miraculous, defying the odds of this ventures's success, his own continuance  on this sheltered but open all around island implanted tween two tines of land, as if all the surroundings were created just to protect this, wholly holy place… 7:00am Silver Beach Shelter Island Aug 19 2025
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Aug 19, 2025
Aug 19, 2025 at 8:00 AM UTC
this particular day...
is like no other early morning, man reborn, in the delivery room of sky blue, the offsetting water deeper bluish hue, the trim-all-around of the mixed salad greens of the staff's scrubs as they usher in unity,  with no imp-unity, the risks, while the supervisory sky, disperses cumulus clouds in peppercorn patterns of white chains, or big wide solitary brushstrokes on a a ****** canvas, gettin' the feel in the palm of the heft of brush, the viscosity of the paint, the day's palette reflecting available colors in order to create a uni~cued original of what has been painted an uncountable times before, and before… tho short weighted, was the sleep of the prior night's restful, he awakes to the early morning light, the sounds of early island rouse him, even, arouse him, for the August chill foretells of the early onset of memory loss of the peculiarities of this summered simmering, human warming and baking and natural braking of the slowing of the heart rate, to better accommodate, nature's hints and hidden reminiscences of the true purpose of the summer's intervention upon our collective and unique bottling, our individualized containers, un~lidded, uncovered, eager for the fuel of sunrays replenish- ing the length of our lives by the elixir of the summer it is a chill 63 Fahrenheit at this time of day as we crossover to the nigh day, from the cooling air conditions of dark, the occasional helicopter intrudes upon the morning's calm, the water placid, the geese honking regarding my watchful rewarding presence, a slew, a bevy, of female vocalists, to ease this transitory performance unfolding, and though one feels the existential of his solitary singularity, as he thinks, nay believes, he is the only one in attendance at this ritualized emergence, he takes in the cool of, the heat of, the admixture of both, the clashing integers of each, and he, fully invigorated, goes silent, for once more, he has uncovered new combinations of old words to accept and describe a new day's creation, miracle of miraculous, defying the odds of this ventures's success, his own continuance  on this sheltered but open all around island implanted tween two tines of land, as if all the surroundings were created just to protect this, wholly holy place… 7:00am Silver Beach Shelter Island Aug 19 2025
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Castelfranco Radicchio wilted slightly maintaining backbone Aubergine Du Burkina Faso Eggplant grilled in olive oil fresh ground peppercorn and basil gently laid onto a delicate bed bright green and fresh Cour Di Bue Cabbage Molokia Purple Sweet Potatoes julienne and drizzled La Vecchia Dispensa Balsamic Vinegar aged 100 years mingled with the brightest yellow Amarillo Carrot and thin rounds of a Jaune Paille Des Vertus Onion offsetting the purples and yellows with gleaming white – art presents itself as poetry via recipe in the fattest nation Earth has ever known –
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Apr 5, 2016
Apr 5, 2016 at 11:47 AM UTC
just another salad poem.....
Clothes, not bluer than your soul. Soul, as blurry as your eyes. Fears… Worries… About your child… Son… As innocent as snow… In the earliest morrow… Sighs… How much did you wipe today With a big piece of your heart, Through the challenges of his life…? How much did you whip today With long echoes from the past Your scared back with more remorse…? How much did you add today From the pure drops of your love When you early warmed his meal Raising him healthy and strong…? How much did you think last night, Of the events of his day, And the games he used to play Of the quarrels with his friend, And the absence of his dad...? What will he do to survive…? Will he be happy and fine? Will he smile and learn and thrive? Know what to do with his life? Could you worry even more? How much did you safe today? How much did you self-deprive? How much did you sleep at night, Since you’re working all time? Is something left for yourself? How are you dealing with pain? *Angles of all heavens.. Flowers of all gardens.. Jewels of all shops… All goodness in all lives… Don’t come even close to Offsetting sacrifice Of Motherhood!*
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Apr 24, 2017
Apr 24, 2017 at 1:42 AM UTC
MOTHERHOOD
Be my constant like Desmond and the Island When you and me met between nosebleeds and seizures of consciousness We looked to the sky and watched electromagnetic explosions That held our hearts pumping out supernovas In their hands we were Gods respectively blowing Buddha minds out of proportion re-enacting some center stage production of how we shift our own reality Subtly unspoken devoid of emotions lost like a lighter in a smoke circle Offsetting the light and darkness But You were always my constant again and again in flash-backs flash-forwards flash-sideways We could never escape the timeline
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Sep 28, 2013
Sep 28, 2013 at 7:56 PM UTC
If Anything Goes Wrong...
somber song haiku /|\ *early autumn chill somber toning frogling bass stars beam silent truth* \|/ mid summer hints its end here too the night extends in tones lamenting twilit choke of day-- changeling-hours' ease: a memory offsetting later dawns yet deeper chills portend an autumn's coming tide of ending-songs i too am passing as a haiku's universal scope of timeless time, galactic spin within the frogling's utterance, makes morbid rhythms eyed; i fear i'm croaking right along this somber bass, and wonder is it time? so soon? envisioning the ancient host of haiku masters brittle, fade in unison of tears or tranquil noddings at the season's cutting partial circles round the sun i read i am the aging frog by virtue of a poem, and then it lets me leap! .
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Aug 10, 2013
Aug 10, 2013 at 2:42 PM UTC
after reading 'somber song haiku' by Mae
A married couple built a home. They filled it with sustenance, carried trouble from the mist Shrugged their tired shoulders and said, "the heck with it." A few months later, they worked diligently to make ends meet and settled with three. The first was science; his eyes black to the depths of feelings catered by human beings. He had no ambitions; Life carried for him, no mission He settled with a distant universe Lost to the world, cradled by the stars. The second was art; her eyes open to life's imagery, Frivolous to reality, Living in fantasy, Outwardly misplaced in a world confined, By laws and walls that vex her open mind. She sees the universe in people; The color they shine from souls, divine While the world just comes and goes. The third was physics; Always in motion, unable to rest, Fixed in her thinking, quick to protest the world's catastrophes offsetting her inertia, Grounded by gravity bound by rule, Drugged by ambition avowed to a criteria, Where everything needs fixing and she is the tool. In the company of such diversity, Option created the university. Send your offspring there. Tell them to learn what is worth knowing: That change is infinite and life keeps going, and love has no limits, it keeps on growing, as long as there is air to breath and feelings worth showing. In the end it comes down to chemistry, But the result always varies; Creating a creature of beauty From acceptance and unity That carries on the legacy, Of subjective company. Sometimes, the unexpected can be so lovely.
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Oct 9, 2010
Oct 9, 2010 at 11:46 PM UTC
Subjective Company: Results May Vary
A married couple built a home. They filled it with sustenance, carried trouble from the mist Shrugged their tired shoulders and said, "the heck with it." A few months later, they worked diligently to make ends meet and settled with three. The first was science; his eyes black to the depths of feelings catered by human beings. He had no ambitions; Life carried for him, no mission He settled with a distant universe Lost to the world, cradled by the stars. The second was art; her eyes open to life's imagery, Frivolous to reality, Living in fantasy, Outwardly misplaced in a world confined, By laws and walls that vex her open mind. She sees the universe in people; The color they shine from souls, divine While the world just comes and goes. The third was physics; Always in motion, unable to rest, Fixed in her thinking, quick to protest the world's catastrophes offsetting her inertia, Grounded by gravity bound by rule, Drugged by ambition avowed to a criteria, Where everything needs fixing and she is the tool. In the company of such diversity, Option created the university. Send your offspring there. Tell them to learn what is worth knowing: That change is infinite and life keeps going, and love has no limits, it keeps on growing, as long as there is air to breath and feelings worth showing. In the end it comes down to chemistry, But the result always varies; Creating a creature of beauty From acceptance and unity That carries on the legacy, Of subjective company. Sometimes, the unexpected can be so lovely.
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Birds bones Bent, broken, contorted Berated into lines Marrow mulled; mine displaced For a moment malleable Too tight a tangible layer Ticking in time to reciprocate rapid breaths Offsetting mind and muscle of the chest Formless fighter ********* frail joints New skeleton unhinged; presently a puppet Strung to sing, to smile
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May 9, 2013
May 9, 2013 at 10:03 PM UTC
Who moves my bones?
I close the door on you once more just like before When you chose my prose and left me so morose With a critique so antique it made me feel a freak And a monster can't foster child with good posture Even offsetting such upsetting features with writing Of wonders beyond measure for blunders are forever In eyes of a god, what surprise at the rise of this fraud, Automatic to cry, just a gimmick, Sorry and pathetic These words must be to beautiful birds with fortitude Enough to crash the gates and smash the plates Rich hooligans do feast upon fins of beast and fish In comfortable style I rumble and perspire from fire Within my soul, trouble staying full, double time this lull- abye, goodbye peach of my eye who makes my heart awry.
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Jun 10, 2013
Jun 10, 2013 at 4:02 AM UTC
Fiery Angel
when i want to build a wall. i take the stone, formed by, anger or hurt from my gullet. wash it, so it's dark facets shine. then place it, in the footings, of my insecurity. find another and repeat til they form a line. using as my mortar, pain, embarassment and indignation in equal parts. mixed with tears and bile. and then, i begin again buttering bricks and offsetting, them. i want, no need, my wall to be strong. tho i never build, my walls too high three or four courses, never, no more. i want to be able to, step over them and be free i have seen those and watch them still, thoese who, built a high, formidable wall, a fortress, it does become, with them, still locked, imprisoned inside. so i learnt to build, walls strong, but squat so i can, when ready, emerge. righteous and graceful. but this is my folly, the flaw, in my scheme. my walls, they run ***** nilly, everywhere. and over them i trip **** over beam.. so now... i must find a school to teach me the art and give me the tools, of how to deconstruct a wall. with out the haphazard use of a wrecking ball.
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Apr 25, 2014
Apr 25, 2014 at 11:59 PM UTC
how to build a wall
One life's learnings distilled into a book, The offsetting chartreuse cover Covered with dust of decades I seem to have forgotten Due to my life's coming to a close. I read the last page, hands filthy Then drown in a final cleansing And purification of my life. The pages detach and evaporate; The cover floats to a new shore With its new sky blue hue And human to master it.
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Apr 24, 2017
Apr 24, 2017 at 11:16 PM UTC
Recycling
i see something in you. nameless. esoteric. incomprehensible, even to me. the backshelfcellarthought itches in my fingers           in my words           in my restrainted interest. you could be flawless. despite the offsetting qualities others observe           i see it. a dull shade of the most lovely glow. and i am too proud, or maybe too afraid tosayoneword.
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Mar 17, 2011
Mar 17, 2011 at 1:52 PM UTC
stifled
dark clouds blowing in rolling with ocean's westerly wind large gradient gray splotches randomly dispersed by natures asymmetry sunlight filtering lightly through a background of confusion an afternoon's surprise soft, steady showers hardly offsetting 40 days and 40 nights of Winter and Spring drought but still inspiring happy dances walks with umbrellas and ice cream cones in the fresh scent of sea air and the mustiness of Summer rain
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Jul 30, 2014
Jul 30, 2014 at 9:01 PM UTC
SUMMER'S GLOOM
you have a weird button nose; sometimes i want to punch it, sometimes i want it to fight for dominance with the weird nose that i have (i'd let you win) the way your bottom and top teeth line up perfectly sometimes makes your bottom lip pertrude. (which i would nibble to get your attention) I normally find that just a little offsetting on people. But with you, it leaves your face looking like an adorable pout. (which i would memorize while waiting for the sun to rise)
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May 2, 2017
May 2, 2017 at 1:51 AM UTC
nose.
I did it Just to show you I could You said that I wouldn't I promised I would And now I'm questioning what it was for See, I don't get to see your smile anymore You always pick fights I know you will lose I'd give you the win But they're not mine to choose As you place bets I ready my hands And somehow it's my fault you're less of a man You think I could love you a little bit more You want me to do it by offsetting the score But truth is my love I'll never amount The truth is my love I've never kept count And willing the word that beats us in two There's only so much That I'm willing to do The truth is my dearest, it's only the truth It has nothing to do with me Or with you What in opposition We now share in pride The conflict in us is you're wrong And I'm right If you got off your tiptoes then you could be king But you quote Hemingway like you know what he means I don't aim to hurt you Not ever At all I resent that you think me so sad and small That the quarters and dimes Are the words we exchange That the fury and passion Are part of a game Is this what love is? Do you let me win? And if it's in question Did it begin? And if it began And didn't stay true What else can we do?
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Nov 1, 2013
Nov 1, 2013 at 12:04 AM UTC
Why I Did It
intimate game, aiming of the heart the target thrumming thirst then a terminating surge a snare that smites, ignites the muse nature nursing rage, raising remains a fine art form earning guts, hanging hares remnants raining sanguine sienna fanfare of horrors offsetting reform moonrise mourning, murmurings of nature unhinge the earth, anointed assassin ushering the inhumane, staining the air a heist that haunts she, an intent instrument of the forest heir of grim harmonies, rot is her ornate signature a tormenting mirage, her transient reign of ruin
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Apr 29, 2017
Apr 29, 2017 at 4:37 PM UTC
Hunting of Artemis
Sep 15 10:45am Silver Beach, Peconic  Bay, Shelter Island it is the day of the twixt and tween, 64°, stolid breeze on a bright sunshiny day, but no question, we are well ensconced in **** season, overlooking the shadowy, dry, speckled blotchy, thirsty grass, and an empty bay, sails put aside it’s a normal/semi-normal moment, simultaneously secular and heaven blessed, the stimuli of the quietude is the outlier, it’s quantitude is overwhelming, it’s amplitude, a wave of farewell humbled hushed rumblings of wind and the drip of dropping leaves that fails to puncture the total absence of noises, human et. al. shirt off, chest wet & warmed, a light jacket, my wrapper from the firm chill, an undeniable temperate moment, for this is an interlude day, a goodbye and hello shucked/unshucked poem, the only semi-frisky item on the menu even the animal kingdom respectful, recognizing the sorrowful solitude of this single intruder, so no cawing, honking, even rabbits quietly chewing, their senses understand this is a  remorseful write on a beauteous 1/365, an adieu + au revoir script to this island but then the sign! between Silver Beach and Noyac, three heads a-bobbing, white throats and white underbellies upright, too far away to be heard, but I swear I hear the purposeful porpoises saying: “Adieu! Adieu! until we see you and yours once more, for many more, till then, we await our mutual sheltering together, in our shared waters” <> our summer palace, where the sum of each newborn morn, begins a life extending day, offsetting the aging of cells, and softee smiles of children are botox injections, directed to the soul’s lining, an antigen antidote to the toll time’s antibodies extract, time units recorded and kept hid in the the surround sound of a special silence, the sounds of rays twinkling upon the waves, reminders to everyone that we are merely betwixt and between a plentiful heaven today and a plentiful heaven tomorrow
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Sep 15, 2022
Sep 15, 2022 at 2:01 PM UTC
Adieu, betwix & between, a plentiful quiet
Sep 15 10:45am Silver Beach, Peconic  Bay, Shelter Island it is the day of the twixt and tween, 64°, stolid breeze on a bright sunshiny day, but no question, we are well ensconced in **** season, overlooking the shadowy, dry, speckled blotchy, thirsty grass, and an empty bay, sails put aside it’s a normal/semi-normal moment, simultaneously secular and heaven blessed, the stimuli of the quietude is the outlier, it’s quantitude is overwhelming, it’s amplitude, a wave of farewell humbled hushed rumblings of wind and the drip of dropping leaves that fails to puncture the total absence of noises, human et. al. shirt off, chest wet & warmed, a light jacket, my wrapper from the firm chill, an undeniable temperate moment, for this is an interlude day, a goodbye and hello shucked/unshucked poem, the only semi-frisky item on the menu even the animal kingdom respectful, recognizing the sorrowful solitude of this single intruder, so no cawing, honking, even rabbits quietly chewing, their senses understand this is a  remorseful write on a beauteous 1/365, an adieu + au revoir script to this island but then the sign! between Silver Beach and Noyac, three heads a-bobbing, white throats and white underbellies upright, too far away to be heard, but I swear I hear the purposeful porpoises saying: “Adieu! Adieu! until we see you and yours once more, for many more, till then, we await our mutual sheltering together, in our shared waters” <> our summer palace, where the sum of each newborn morn, begins a life extending day, offsetting the aging of cells, and softee smiles of children are botox injections, directed to the soul’s lining, an antigen antidote to the toll time’s antibodies extract, time units recorded and kept hid in the the surround sound of a special silence, the sounds of rays twinkling upon the waves, reminders to everyone that we are merely betwixt and between a plentiful heaven today and a plentiful heaven tomorrow
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Swollen, hanging on outside corner of just one eye, it dangled diamond like. Offsetting an emerald gaze, that tear held on and it was impossible to know if it would, could, should ever fall. Rays of light from late afternoon cracked as if glass, splintering her reflections. Her juicy tear was holding the whole story back. I would not wish to pull it from her, dab it away. It was, forever now, part of her beauty, facetted upon her face.
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Feb 26, 2016
Feb 26, 2016 at 9:42 AM UTC
The Tear
it never fails to blow my mind, how two years can change you it's inevitable, i have come to find, but that doesn't mean that you grew sometimes change is a negative thing pushing you backwards, negating progress made oftentimes even unearthing aspects of yourself better left decayed outweighed by the better qualities possessed in two years, i have become someone of whom i cannot be proud no matter how desperately i wish to look in the mirror and view myself without self-loathing circumstances surrounding me and my own brain chemistry result in my being unallowed to see myself without thinking in terms that are scathing so i hang a shroud over the mirrors in my house that's not a home let smoke do the rest of the disguising and wander through the interior of my mind, a veritable catacomb looking inward, introspecting, and overall despising myself on every level for being who and where I am and somehow the hardest part is recognizing that i have no one but myself to blame for feeling no one understands because my demons, they make letting people in agonizing by constantly reminding me of how well that went for me last time but if i don't try again and extend that trust how will i ever know anything but this endless alienation and i run the risk of letting my emotions rust so i'll try to lower my walls for you and hope that i don't wind up regretting this emotional oration and hopefully the good will wind up offsetting any consequences of the negative variety and you won't consider my openness and impropriety though i know you won't, because you're an expert at expressing how it is you're feeling and whatever you're thinking - even if you're not through processing and i envy that about you
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Dec 19, 2017
Dec 19, 2017 at 10:37 AM UTC
two years
it never fails to blow my mind, how two years can change you it's inevitable, i have come to find, but that doesn't mean that you grew sometimes change is a negative thing pushing you backwards, negating progress made oftentimes even unearthing aspects of yourself better left decayed outweighed by the better qualities possessed in two years, i have become someone of whom i cannot be proud no matter how desperately i wish to look in the mirror and view myself without self-loathing circumstances surrounding me and my own brain chemistry result in my being unallowed to see myself without thinking in terms that are scathing so i hang a shroud over the mirrors in my house that's not a home let smoke do the rest of the disguising and wander through the interior of my mind, a veritable catacomb looking inward, introspecting, and overall despising myself on every level for being who and where I am and somehow the hardest part is recognizing that i have no one but myself to blame for feeling no one understands because my demons, they make letting people in agonizing by constantly reminding me of how well that went for me last time but if i don't try again and extend that trust how will i ever know anything but this endless alienation and i run the risk of letting my emotions rust so i'll try to lower my walls for you and hope that i don't wind up regretting this emotional oration and hopefully the good will wind up offsetting any consequences of the negative variety and you won't consider my openness and impropriety though i know you won't, because you're an expert at expressing how it is you're feeling and whatever you're thinking - even if you're not through processing and i envy that about you
Continue reading...
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