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"outbreaks" poems
Ebola, coming from the Continent of our roots The WHO is exhausted by your contagion Nurses are leaving their posts, doctors are dying What can contain exponential growth? Not the money and debts of this bankrupt America We print more money and expect The world to stay the same, but it won’t Not after you Ebola, a profit mechanism Vaccines, for each strain and mutation? Ebola, your incubation period is too long Your death-conformity is too high How can you possibly be natural? Man-made, racially biased, targeting The weak, the poor, the masses Ebola, a colonial rampage in your DNA I call your bluff, genocide, Genocide! Obama doesn’t mind Ebola, flights stay open New epicenters for outbreaks arrive The pundits say it’s already too late Fluids or air-droplets, both, who is to say? The CDC seems strangely apathetic The UN is oddly apologetic Ebola, are you ready to decimate The white man, as you have the black?
0
Oct 18, 2014
Oct 18, 2014 at 10:41 AM UTC
Ebola, Puppet of Propaganda
I am the oppressed, and you are the master, holding me since birth, as I am evolutions disaster. I have a tendency for violent outbreaks, created by institutionalized racism, they say be "normal", there are choices... yet within our beliefs there is a chasm. For I was born without an option, and went where I was led, my only freedom was my adoption, into the gangs for whom I bled. While society cites me as a statistic, I am just an average man, pushed to the point of being sadistic, because for the blacks there is no plan. Do not group me with the heathens, or make me out to be a sociopath, I went where I saw life's beacons, and as a child I was caught in that wrath. Someday this will all end, that day that I will be dead, revolution will strike society, like a bullet in the head.
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Oct 23, 2014
Oct 23, 2014 at 7:53 PM UTC
Bullet in the head.
Allergens Memories Strong spices Leave your scars I'll send them below Precious new memories will replace Your unwelcome pain Napkins and longboards electronic haze I don't watch Disney I wish I didn't know my parents But I take this for granted again Outbreaks Gluten Shedding Flannels before they were Cool painting my room two shades of black Shakira I'll share my life If you will pretend I'm awake enough To absorb yours Can we become closer?
0
May 5, 2014
May 5, 2014 at 3:09 AM UTC
adobo, bleu cheese and depression
Love life, love the world, for it is all you have. Love the stars, and the people, and the breeze and the rain, and the reflection of the lights on the water. Love because you exist. Love because you can read this, because you live in a time that will one day be thought of as romantic and golden. Love because you won't be forever. Love because everything is impermanent, because this day will end, and never be visited again. Love because all we have is enough, and because nothing we can imagine can match it. Love because there are others you share the world with, who love too. Love the night, the silence, the shadow of the trees by the water. Love the imminence of dawn, and of things someday gone. Love the light of a candle and the warmth of the earnest conversation lit by it. Love the joy of sharing the world with other beings as troubled but as sensitive to beauty and love as you are. Love nature's gentle rattle, and its tempestuous outbreaks. Love because you are all you will ever be, and life is immense and beautiful, even in its darkness, and it is yours.
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Nov 15, 2018
Nov 15, 2018 at 3:45 AM UTC
Impermanence
I keep having these emotional outbreaks and when I feel like this, I need to tell you But my words get jumbled up and I cant keep my emotions under control Whenever I go to I think it has to do with my worst fear The thing that eats away at me everyday Claws at my tendons causing my muscles to die Stagnates my blood causing my arteries to clog and brittle my  bones It's crimson needled fingers are powered by one hand underneath my gums and rips my teeth out one by one while the other hand slides my fingernails out of my skin Stalking Seeking Slithering through my skin it crawls inside and stalks my spinal cord all the way to my skull, plucking spinal cords along the way Seeking for my brain and Slithering into every neuron and cell It rots every single one And decays the rest of me I am numb cause I'm afraid no one cares. No-one has cared at all I knew from the first christmas that I was a mistake In middle school it was made clear again when everyone bullied me Then again in High School where teenage apathy reigned But now, I really don't know if anyone cares and your answer means so much to me "Do you care?" Cause if I can't have you as a lover I want to love you as a friend Cause I can see you doing great in the end
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Nov 18, 2012
Nov 18, 2012 at 1:01 AM UTC
Care?
The place where the atmosphere consists of main outbreaks, Whether the dishes weren't done or the floors weren't mopped correctly, Something so small can effect the gross unification of "family". Feeling like you can't necessarily express yourself, Leaves you to feel drowned out by the many emotions that flood your mind at the worst of times, It allows your feelings to grow more and more profoundly erratic; anxious. Allow me to go into full elaboration as to how I constantly maintain my well-respected position of a so called "good person" or complain about the many people who are just as careless as the majority of people nowadays who simply do not ask how I've been. I've let days slip by, Suddenly, I feel no difference in what occurred yesterday or really, no contrast in the feelings I'll most likely encounter tomorrow. At home, mass mental destructions happens, It's where I get pulled into a place where I'm just trapped in my own self, similar to the way I feel in school. I don't know, it could possibly be causing my continuous feelings of nervousness whenever I'm surrounded by people, Or it could merely be the fact of which, I haven't yet chosen a path or seen quite a way to go through and feel a protective environment around me. These winter days are gradually approaching, It's only a matter of time until my mind goes away like the sun at night, These seconds, minutes, hours can patrol for what feels like perennial timings, but anticipation is what's really foreshadowing my shallow whole of a "home".
0
Oct 18, 2017
Oct 18, 2017 at 7:52 PM UTC
Home
The place where the atmosphere consists of main outbreaks, Whether the dishes weren't done or the floors weren't mopped correctly, Something so small can effect the gross unification of "family". Feeling like you can't necessarily express yourself, Leaves you to feel drowned out by the many emotions that flood your mind at the worst of times, It allows your feelings to grow more and more profoundly erratic; anxious. Allow me to go into full elaboration as to how I constantly maintain my well-respected position of a so called "good person" or complain about the many people who are just as careless as the majority of people nowadays who simply do not ask how I've been. I've let days slip by, Suddenly, I feel no difference in what occurred yesterday or really, no contrast in the feelings I'll most likely encounter tomorrow. At home, mass mental destructions happens, It's where I get pulled into a place where I'm just trapped in my own self, similar to the way I feel in school. I don't know, it could possibly be causing my continuous feelings of nervousness whenever I'm surrounded by people, Or it could merely be the fact of which, I haven't yet chosen a path or seen quite a way to go through and feel a protective environment around me. These winter days are gradually approaching, It's only a matter of time until my mind goes away like the sun at night, These seconds, minutes, hours can patrol for what feels like perennial timings, but anticipation is what's really foreshadowing my shallow whole of a "home".
Continue reading...
16
the internet says that I am at a vulnerable time of my life right now because I am somewhere between a child and an adult and that is a lot like how a caterpillar wrapping itself around silk walls of cocoon that I like to call society because no matter how long it remains silent a butterfly would always struggle and slowly emerge from its own silky white cage in time to come and that comforts me because in real life, I am a piece of glass everyone looks right through and with no one that I truly feel a connection to, I find myself standing at the sidelines and maybe I watch too much anime, but I want someone to call me their friend and not give me a chance to doubt their meaning of friendship and consequently whether or not I really mean something to them and maybe I’m still suffering from 8th grade syndrome, which is a Japanese slang for people, nearing adolescence who think they are special members of society and I used to believe that I have magical abilities and I am the only one capable of fighting against an age old evil and I still know that to be true, but now, I know that I am just fighting against my own hormones the same ones that cause my face to turn red at the mention of my poetry and the same ones that cause outbreaks on my face during exam periods and the same ones that make me feel so alone at 3a.m in the night and I know I'm not special, not even close but I want to feel like I've been good enough at least once in my life {d.c}
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Oct 13, 2013
Oct 13, 2013 at 2:31 PM UTC
8th grade syndrome
**** stained drainpipe raining pain unexplained sameness expressed in veiny legs egg salad crustacean situationally challenged prophetic procreator bending spoons and your will shill trolls on and on seeking weakness tweeking while twerking discolored molars twinkle baboons *** shiner dines on refined lime mining dimes unwound ground cover lamenting lack of green queen like boy toy bounds across the turnpike exhilarated and misinformed dorm room **** forlorn sounding horn born of jazzy lips quips to the mainstream hipsterism is like a disease complete with rashes and bumpy outbreaks 15 century rake awaits her date and is placed on the stake for a belief in an alternative
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Jun 3, 2014
Jun 3, 2014 at 7:38 PM UTC
poetic rambling
Did you really think I could live with this? Even though you didn’t protect me, I trusted you. Welcomed you with open legs, And as your warm hand shook mine, I could tell something was wrong. My skin complexion became three words, S.T.D. Muscle aches and pains contracted from top, To bottom. No cure. Everyday I have outbreaks, Knowing that I can’t break out of this disease. Burning leads to the nerve paths of my discharge. **** Began to ooze out like the secret you never told me. Unlike you, I was itching to try and make it go away, But the itching turned into torn blisters. Can’t cover up that disgusting smell, Because if I do, it will only get worse. Not that it was getting better. These blue and yellow conversation bumps will never go away, They just keep talking. I trusted you. But you only wanted me for your special needs. Now I’m in an episode of symptoms That keeps repeating every time I breathe. Lungs, feel like hands that turned into swollen glands, Squeezing, Until it moves down to my stomach, Causing me to throw up your guilt. I should have known something was up when you refused to go get tested. April 30, 2008, I’m diagnosed with ******
0
Oct 31, 2010
Oct 31, 2010 at 3:50 PM UTC
Untitled(my part of group piece)
I wish I had the cure for broken-heart outbreaks. I’d make billions. It’s pervasive & so widespread, like an epidemic, I’d always have sad-customers to feed my bank account.
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Dec 22, 2013
Dec 22, 2013 at 8:16 PM UTC
I Wish I Could Cure Broken-Heart Outbreaks (I'd Be a Billionaire)
The Many Benefits of Facebook Friends A Facebook friend wrote meaningfully: “Give me, Five ways to give aid to people Of Aleppo” (You know where Aleppo is; It’s on the lip(s) of all the world). A reader sent back this small clip, A tiny snippet: “Meditate! Get rid of violent thoughts, Of evil judgments that you sow And sown, And temper outbreaks that you’ve known. Don’t only sit, feel sad and moan! That is the thing this scribe can do, Does do and plans to do. You do it too!” All done and said, That was the ‘five good things’ contributed. When he who wrote it Noted This. I wrote right back and sent a kiss. There are ten thousand like me. The Many Benefits Of Facebook Friends 12.19.2016 Our Times, Our Culture II; War Book II; Arlene Corwin
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Dec 19, 2016
Dec 19, 2016 at 2:29 PM UTC
The Many Benefits Of Facebook Friends
*** isn't the only thing that sells death sells too think about it a minute and admit that its true war correspondent reporting live from the middle of the war zone another thousand people die from the hole in the ozone ebola outbreaks are trending getting millions of views while little girl abductions top the evening news we demonize *** on t.v. like were ashamed of creation while at least one prime time show will feature de-capitation the next time you buy a ticket to the mass media fair just stop and think a minute buyer beware
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Sep 5, 2014
Sep 5, 2014 at 1:46 PM UTC
death sells too
there was once a genocide in my heart, outbreaks of riots at my fingertips, loose chaos in my bones. days to weeks, weeks to months months to years, the wars raged onward, never falling back - only charging on. however, the genocide and riots and chaos have relinquished. i survived the apocalypse that was my own self.
0
Mar 14, 2014
Mar 14, 2014 at 11:05 PM UTC
warrior
I've been looking for glass sheets For clear majestic views But a dreary kaleidoscope I find Among the wreck and ruins So strucked was I To gain pleasure In those mocking patterns I've been looking for seashells For silvery water outbreaks But sea urchins I dwell So strucked was I To love the stingy pain As I get abased With the thorns by lane I've been looking for empathy But all I discover is cruelty I've been looking for better But all I found is clearly opposite..
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Feb 1, 2018
Feb 1, 2018 at 10:10 AM UTC
Analogy..
Easily distracted by Your simple flaws Flowing against my Own will Consideration, participation, listening Seemed to glow Around your ego Silencing close calls To a bitter taste Declaring outbreaks On future opponents Before crossing paths Oceans collapsing Forest fires reversing Dirt comfortably remaining Behind the solution.
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Dec 19, 2010
Dec 19, 2010 at 9:54 PM UTC
Breathing Glass
Watery depths to sink in like stones, relishing the moments as gold wears down and folds. Take this epitome of life and flush the blood out, the snow white complexion seemingly calmed down. White gold mixes with bronze, bronze to mix with steel. This makes an alloy no stronger than it feels. Quiet silence, sudden outbreaks, what happens to these souls when their love washed away. Rush up to the wooden box, to be buried under the snow. Push those regretful tears away, filled with sorrow and woe. Put down those hands upon white cloth, resting onto the black attire to reminisce on the moment with loss
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Nov 9, 2014
Nov 9, 2014 at 4:46 PM UTC
Perish
waking refreshed, happy full of the knowing that all is well no need to worry for asteroid impact or salmonella outbreaks I turned in my Capstone – looking to the future with faith-filled optimism they really can fix Fukushima they aren’t spraying aluminum onto the populace it’s really just what happens when jets cut air pesticides and fungicides combined with antibiotics and steroids make our food safer I turned in my Capstone – longing to show the world the new free version of myself not concerned with gay rights un-involved with the Occupy movement faltering on the desire to better myself through education seeking only to fit in and make some money reshape myself into a machine cog I turned in my Capstone –
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Mar 16, 2014
Mar 16, 2014 at 11:30 AM UTC
deadline reached
Eyes leaking Shaking, shivering but the worst part is you have to be silent You have to stay strong for other eyes are on yours Theirs too leaking, pouring Your strength is their platform but when your spotlight is gone and it is dark You're weak Quietly engulfing yourself in your own emotion Waiting for the day when you reach your breaking point When your eyes leak so much that they overflow With your eyes, your lungs and heart follow Slowly overflowing, slowly filling to the top of what use to be a beautiful body That has now been corrupt with fake smiles and silent outbreaks
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Jun 29, 2013
Jun 29, 2013 at 2:44 AM UTC
The Overflow
Real life isn't always perfection Often it's nervously bitten digits and cracked nail polish. Real life isn't always photogenic Mostly it's oily faces and adolescent outbreaks. Real life isn't perfumed or pretty Sometimes it's pit stains and bad hair days. Real life isn't a page in a glossy magazine Airbrushed and edited to curveless perfection. Real life isn't about salads and diet coke It's more like ice cream and pizza at 3 am and fat days spent in yoga pants feeling sorry for yourself. Real life isn't always smooth sailing Rather it's more like "I hate you" one minute then "I love you" the next then "shut up, go away" right after that. Real life isn't fantasy It's the 9-5 grind and knowing you'll never make enough to afford all the things you want. Real life is never how you expect it to be So when you tell me that I'm beyond perfect and that you don't deserve me . . . What do you expect me to do . . . degrade myself so I'm imperfect for you?
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Jul 8, 2014
Jul 8, 2014 at 12:44 PM UTC
Tonight I Stayed Up and Thought About Stuff.
I bleed dry for his happiness. He dances on my weakness. I’m forever stained. Anger outbreaks and bruised thighs I don’t know him when I look into his eyes. I want to run and be alone. I’m good at racing the other way When things go array I want to stray And Disappear.
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Jul 31, 2021
Jul 31, 2021 at 9:50 PM UTC
Into the shadows
Johnson, go ahead and holster your weapon: The threat here is long gone. My body used to be a temple, Now it's more like a time bomb. My words are honest outbreaks, ...My list of fears is long. And after-hours of outtakes Lead me to this song... There are days when I want to be you Days when I don't want to be, there are Long nights of lonely reminders Of what you mean to me. There are times when I freeze myself to the bed-frame And convince myself I'm free And sometimes it seems convincing: The idea of you leaving. No. This is not the end, I fear, my love. No. This is just the tip of the iceberg. Yes. And when the tears begin to pile up. I will give you this friendly reminder: I've dropped all sorts of crutches, I've had all sorts of dreams I've felt the tension in you when you resented me. Threw my brain at all my problems and now I'm truly free. Free to be alone when I don't want to be: I painted this for you. I painted this for me. This glass is like a mirror defining unity. No more shaking heads, just laughing silently... I won't put out these searchlights. I love you, still, Dear, E.
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Jun 16, 2011
Jun 16, 2011 at 6:56 PM UTC
Post-Script 2
I seek what I’ve learned but failed to understand Celebrating this nothingness, oblivious to my heart Expectation creates pressure that elevates my fear Reality sets me free or so they made me believe I walk along this thread, no ends on both sides Balancing this lunacy with outbreaks so calm I carry these words, no longer they are mine What more can I do, to make them satisfied
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Sep 11, 2019
Sep 11, 2019 at 10:36 AM UTC
Calm
Long Island is not the place you want to be When a pandemic outbreaks into the streets Neighborhoods are split between those who listen to the CDC And those who need a tragedy to take the guidelines seriously Everyday is a guessing game of did Corona catch me today? Lines outside clinics grew, nose swabs became a normal part of what we do Masks became the latest fashion trend Although there are people who refuse to buy them More people are getting infected around me When will people start to believe this isn’t just some made up fantasy? Covid affects everyone who has it differently I just hope no one dies around me.
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Apr 20, 2021
Apr 20, 2021 at 11:21 AM UTC
COVID-19