"overdid" poems - Hello Poetry

I get my kicks in the early A.M. Brains on overdrive Can't sleep Overdid it again So I drift off Into another twilight Numbed with Self-created blissful ignorance And when the sun Hits the horizon I hit it back With a smile on my face And I laugh As I tell the world Good morning

0

Dec 9, 2014

Dec 9, 2014 at 2:45 PM UTC

christopher-lowe

Another Sleepless Night

I get my kicks in the early A.M. Brains on overdrive Can't sleep Overdid it again So I drift off Into another twilight Numbed with Self-created blissful ignorance And when the sun Hits the horizon I hit it back With a smile on my face And I laugh As I tell the world Good morning

16

dear happiness, I think you have long overdid your vacation please come back so I can smile again sincerely sad

0

Nov 9, 2014

Nov 9, 2014 at 11:00 AM UTC

inhvale

dear happiness

dear happiness, I think you have long overdid your vacation please come back so I can smile again sincerely sad

8

i used to play guitar, as i also used to fiddle with my fingers, against the thumb... titilating experience... playing guitar? let's just say... how would a guitarist read a morse version of braille, would it be easier to read the morse version of braille... or just braille? numbed tips of fingers of a left hand... ∴ morse braille . _ ⠁ _ . . . ⠃ _ . _ . ⠉ _ . . ⠙ . ⠑ . . _ . ⠋ _ _ . ⠛ (g) . . . . ⠓ . . ⠊ . _ _ _ ⠚ _ . _ ⠅ . _ . . ⠇ _ _ ⠍ (m) _ . ⠝ _ _ _ ⠕ (o) . _ _ . ⠏ _ _ . _ ⠟ (q) . _ . ⠗ (r) . . . ⠎ _ ⠞ . . _ ⠥ (u) . . . _ ⠧ (v) . _ _ ⠺ _ . . _ ⠭ (x) _ . _ _ ⠽ (y) _ _ . . ⠵ (z) point being... you really must have tender finger tips to read braille... which also implies... if were not born blind... when you were not blind and had to roughen your hands up, with some mediocre "waste of time" akin to playing a guitar? **** you're ****** no, literally... because if braille is the answer... and you have thick finger-tips?! that's it... unless of course, braille is replaced with morse... test: i write with my right hand... but... if i were to read? i.e. use my left hand for both playing the guitar and reading? braille, or morse? morse! at least it is adherent to some sort of translateable arithmetic / quasi-algebra... you must have very tender finger tips to read braille... i tried it a few times, given that its provided on most of the packaging of pharmaceuticals in england... i.e. diabetic type 1, born with it, diabetic type 2, overdid the chocolate... sorry, my finger tips are too rough, shouldn't have learned to play the guitar, i couldn't read you braille with these fingers... but if you translated braille into morse? chances are... i probably could. plus? i wouldn't require tender fingertips, akin to a french origin braille reader... give me morse, blind? i could read it... but, the current braille? requiring tender french finger-tips? no hyphen, solely dotty? well... good luck... finding the next blind lemon jefferson... who, apart from playing the guitar, could also read braille... good luck!

0

Mar 29, 2019

Mar 29, 2019 at 1:30 PM UTC

removed.polaroid-scrabble

the morse | braille divide

i used to play guitar, as i also used to fiddle with my fingers, against the thumb... titilating experience... playing guitar? let's just say... how would a guitarist read a morse version of braille, would it be easier to read the morse version of braille... or just braille? numbed tips of fingers of a left hand... ∴ morse braille . _ ⠁ _ . . . ⠃ _ . _ . ⠉ _ . . ⠙ . ⠑ . . _ . ⠋ _ _ . ⠛ (g) . . . . ⠓ . . ⠊ . _ _ _ ⠚ _ . _ ⠅ . _ . . ⠇ _ _ ⠍ (m) _ . ⠝ _ _ _ ⠕ (o) . _ _ . ⠏ _ _ . _ ⠟ (q) . _ . ⠗ (r) . . . ⠎ _ ⠞ . . _ ⠥ (u) . . . _ ⠧ (v) . _ _ ⠺ _ . . _ ⠭ (x) _ . _ _ ⠽ (y) _ _ . . ⠵ (z) point being... you really must have tender finger tips to read braille... which also implies... if were not born blind... when you were not blind and had to roughen your hands up, with some mediocre "waste of time" akin to playing a guitar? **** you're ****** no, literally... because if braille is the answer... and you have thick finger-tips?! that's it... unless of course, braille is replaced with morse... test: i write with my right hand... but... if i were to read? i.e. use my left hand for both playing the guitar and reading? braille, or morse? morse! at least it is adherent to some sort of translateable arithmetic / quasi-algebra... you must have very tender finger tips to read braille... i tried it a few times, given that its provided on most of the packaging of pharmaceuticals in england... i.e. diabetic type 1, born with it, diabetic type 2, overdid the chocolate... sorry, my finger tips are too rough, shouldn't have learned to play the guitar, i couldn't read you braille with these fingers... but if you translated braille into morse? chances are... i probably could. plus? i wouldn't require tender fingertips, akin to a french origin braille reader... give me morse, blind? i could read it... but, the current braille? requiring tender french finger-tips? no hyphen, solely dotty? well... good luck... finding the next blind lemon jefferson... who, apart from playing the guitar, could also read braille... good luck!

102

when I was younger I had so much to say I think I overdid it and spilled so much out I have nothing left in my cup to even sprinkle

0

Jun 22, 2023

Jun 22, 2023 at 10:54 AM UTC

lydiaduhhhh

Spill

when I was younger I had so much to say I think I overdid it and spilled so much out I have nothing left in my cup to even sprinkle

3

Waking up, I think we are, Looking back up, at our star. I wanted this, I always did I think we just... overdid. But now let's go and run again, It'll be so great, just like back when..

0

Oct 28, 2011

Oct 28, 2011 at 11:21 PM UTC

bb-nothing

"Our Star"

Waking up, I think we are, Looking back up, at our star. I wanted this, I always did I think we just... overdid. But now let's go and run again, It'll be so great, just like back when..

6

This life of Dreams I have been in bed today, yesterday after taking up waking I was so enthusiastic that I overdid it took pictures planned The fell I was going to walk tomorrow had heard I could see Wild boars there. I got overtired and sat on a stone under A tree since it began raining. I looked like a scarecrow A farmer picked me up and planted me in his field, and I hung There to someone heard my cry for help. The farmer apologised the Portuguese are polite people When not driving cars on narrow road then they become Murderous bullies and shout expletives at people who try To cross the road with the slowness of an aged person, and To think the Portuguese young care about their old parents.

0

Mar 29, 2016

Mar 29, 2016 at 4:49 AM UTC

jan-oskar-hansen

this life of dreams

This life of Dreams I have been in bed today, yesterday after taking up waking I was so enthusiastic that I overdid it took pictures planned The fell I was going to walk tomorrow had heard I could see Wild boars there. I got overtired and sat on a stone under A tree since it began raining. I looked like a scarecrow A farmer picked me up and planted me in his field, and I hung There to someone heard my cry for help. The farmer apologised the Portuguese are polite people When not driving cars on narrow road then they become Murderous bullies and shout expletives at people who try To cross the road with the slowness of an aged person, and To think the Portuguese young care about their old parents.

13

So far and yet so close we seem to be from the things that make us happy. At times, our game-winning shot misses. At times, our lovers leave us to just wishes. Hurt, pain, and sorrow lays in our end to a life without love or friend. These feelings strangle and smother our peace like the wrath of none other. Repetition. From repeated reaches to resurgence, to taking tyrannical triumph, to taking rejoice, I repeatedly have nothing. Words of “try again” and “get over it” reverberate in my mind, rocking my resolve to sleep. Rupturing results rips, tears through tiers of my resilience, turning me to tears. They creep into my dreams, upon my thrills, onto my choices, inside my hopes, like ants in tents. With cruel intent, every failure rends me so intense. But how to respond? If I show a lack of care by a loss, “Maybe it wasn’t too serious”. But if I reply with hurt and sadness, “maybe you’re just overreacting”. But only for so long can I just “make the best out of a bad situation”. How many times do I need to fail, in order to succeed? If I didn’t care so much, then I wouldn’t hurt so much. But what is a life lived so unlively? Why am I wrong to make the most of what I’m given? To wish, to hope is seen as good ambition when it’s a success, but when I fail then I overdid it?

0

May 16, 2020

May 16, 2020 at 12:36 PM UTC

DeVaughnStation

Almost

So far and yet so close we seem to be from the things that make us happy. At times, our game-winning shot misses. At times, our lovers leave us to just wishes. Hurt, pain, and sorrow lays in our end to a life without love or friend. These feelings strangle and smother our peace like the wrath of none other. Repetition. From repeated reaches to resurgence, to taking tyrannical triumph, to taking rejoice, I repeatedly have nothing. Words of “try again” and “get over it” reverberate in my mind, rocking my resolve to sleep. Rupturing results rips, tears through tiers of my resilience, turning me to tears. They creep into my dreams, upon my thrills, onto my choices, inside my hopes, like ants in tents. With cruel intent, every failure rends me so intense. But how to respond? If I show a lack of care by a loss, “Maybe it wasn’t too serious”. But if I reply with hurt and sadness, “maybe you’re just overreacting”. But only for so long can I just “make the best out of a bad situation”. How many times do I need to fail, in order to succeed? If I didn’t care so much, then I wouldn’t hurt so much. But what is a life lived so unlively? Why am I wrong to make the most of what I’m given? To wish, to hope is seen as good ambition when it’s a success, but when I fail then I overdid it?

34