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"overrides" poems
Teamwork Solves The Problem They say “two minds are better than one.” Nothing could be truer. As I watched a friend and his relative, patiently, take apart and fix a broke appliance. I relaxed and observed. The two had the item repaired and figured out quicker than one whose questions are the parts in which the other can answer when there, with him, aiding in the battle of winning the war to piece together a needed tool , that needs mending. Through answered questions from a partner well answering problems, the other had faced, piecing together the problem, through help and sweet and strong reliance. Upon another to help in rougher times. I remarked on such, the phrase, as they smiled. In agreement…it wa voted unanimously. That :”two minds are better than one” Simultaneously….we all nodded. It was a new motto on which we have started to have styled… Even more so, even a “ton” of minds wishing to achieve the same goal - to fix a broken moment… or even a city that is in disrepair. such, through unity, the item was finished and the conversation had ended…. It is alike war and conflicts…… …. Having people, ready with you, voluntarily by your side… Is better than being too tall for one’s own good…or even better motives… If he fails to see that “one is not an island…” “Nor is one an army…” Common Sense tells him to ask for “brother’s in arms” which overrides any strong form of blind pride..
0
Jan 27, 2018
Jan 27, 2018 at 6:53 PM UTC
Teamwork Solves The Problem
Radness The Philosopher’s Stone is not just a spiritual metaphor but an actual substance that can transmute lead or mercury into gold. The Stone is a product of Alchemy. Unlike chemistry, which only deals with physical matter and energy, Alchemy makes use of etheric and astral energies to reconfigure matter at the quantum level. Alchemy is to chemistry what a cube is to the square; it is a superset of chemistry and is capable of so much more. How Etheric Energy Overrides Physical Laws Alchemical achievements require successfully gathering, concentrating, and multiplying etheric energy. When this energy reaches a critical threshold, it overpowers the normal laws of physics and allows seemingly miraculous processes to take place. I believe it does this by biasing probability. By amplifying the probability of minor quantum effects, which are normally limited to the subatomic scale, they manifest on the larger atomic scale. In this way, one element spontaneously transforms into another. The world around us is made of subatomic particles that regularly undergo unpredictable jumps, teleportation, bilocation, superposition, and other strange quantum behaviors. Why don’t everyday solid objects do likewise? Because the random quantum jittering of their subatomic particles collectively average out to zero. Think of a large crowd of people; seen from the air, the crowd as a whole is stationary, even though individuals within the crowd move in seemingly random directions. It’s because their movements are random and uncoordinated that they average to zero net movement on the whole. The world we see around us is merely a crowd of subatomic particles whose individual quantum jumps aren’t apparent because they average to collective stillness. Physical laws that govern our everyday world, known as the deterministic laws of classical physics, are merely the laws of the crowd. These laws are what’s left of quantum physics after the unpredictability is removed through statistical averaging. They are not absolute laws; they are just the most probable manner in which matter and energy behave. Physical laws can be bent. While the probability is incredibly low that enough coordination and coherence develops among the quantum jitters to manifest on a collective scale, that is exactly what etheric energy does. It alters probability and thereby skews the laws of thermodynamics, gravity, electromagnetism, and chemistry. Alchemy does not violate the laws of physics, nor does it always follow them, rather it bends them as needed. It operates upon the quantum foundation from which these laws arise in the first place, via etheric energy affecting the probability of quantum events.
0
May 28, 2013
May 28, 2013 at 8:59 PM UTC
Alchemy
Radness The Philosopher’s Stone is not just a spiritual metaphor but an actual substance that can transmute lead or mercury into gold. The Stone is a product of Alchemy. Unlike chemistry, which only deals with physical matter and energy, Alchemy makes use of etheric and astral energies to reconfigure matter at the quantum level. Alchemy is to chemistry what a cube is to the square; it is a superset of chemistry and is capable of so much more. How Etheric Energy Overrides Physical Laws Alchemical achievements require successfully gathering, concentrating, and multiplying etheric energy. When this energy reaches a critical threshold, it overpowers the normal laws of physics and allows seemingly miraculous processes to take place. I believe it does this by biasing probability. By amplifying the probability of minor quantum effects, which are normally limited to the subatomic scale, they manifest on the larger atomic scale. In this way, one element spontaneously transforms into another. The world around us is made of subatomic particles that regularly undergo unpredictable jumps, teleportation, bilocation, superposition, and other strange quantum behaviors. Why don’t everyday solid objects do likewise? Because the random quantum jittering of their subatomic particles collectively average out to zero. Think of a large crowd of people; seen from the air, the crowd as a whole is stationary, even though individuals within the crowd move in seemingly random directions. It’s because their movements are random and uncoordinated that they average to zero net movement on the whole. The world we see around us is merely a crowd of subatomic particles whose individual quantum jumps aren’t apparent because they average to collective stillness. Physical laws that govern our everyday world, known as the deterministic laws of classical physics, are merely the laws of the crowd. These laws are what’s left of quantum physics after the unpredictability is removed through statistical averaging. They are not absolute laws; they are just the most probable manner in which matter and energy behave. Physical laws can be bent. While the probability is incredibly low that enough coordination and coherence develops among the quantum jitters to manifest on a collective scale, that is exactly what etheric energy does. It alters probability and thereby skews the laws of thermodynamics, gravity, electromagnetism, and chemistry. Alchemy does not violate the laws of physics, nor does it always follow them, rather it bends them as needed. It operates upon the quantum foundation from which these laws arise in the first place, via etheric energy affecting the probability of quantum events.
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8
That's what my name is my given name, that is it means Natural Spring (of water) but, it does not mean it's me How can a name, given to you                     by those who never truly saw you, belong to you? It belongs to them. as does Pinar,                   the girl that's molded to their liking                   the safe girl, the one who is never a risk                   the girl who receives love, when she plays by the rules                   the girl who serves as a mirror, of their own merits                   the girl whose duty overrides her every desire                   the girl whose soul screams, but no one is there to hear it                   the girl that exists, only around them MY name, good sir, is Penny It is a name given to me by a six-year old girl it felt true, to be seen by the eyes of a child to be graced, by that purity with a name to call my own                                    Penny. A name given, innocently and so I claim my true name be Not what was given to me, but was seen, of me --PY
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Feb 11, 2017
Feb 11, 2017 at 9:17 PM UTC
_______________Pinar.
As one chosen by God, certain attributes are demonstrated with loving regularity; despite one’s beliefs, showing kindness requires a daring of spiritual temerity. For The Lord expects His children to give Love towards people without expectations; know that being tenderhearted, helps one to naturally extend actions of compassion. Don’t think lightly, about the richness of kindness, it may one lead to repentance; its warm embrace softens the heart, while Salvation overrides Death’s life sentence. The merit of kindness can’t be overstated; being accepting, forgiving without judgment means not rigidly imposing beliefs on others. As His children, one should make investments in the individualized development of others. With the “Fruit of The Holy Spirit”, growth and maturation can be properly accelerated when applying by the principle of God’s oath to “humbly walk in Love” (as He requires). Kindness is patient, when paired with respect, justice, long-suffering and unconditional Love; the value of kindness, no one should neglect. . . . Author notes Inspired by: Eph 4:32; Gal 5:22-23; Heb 6:10; Rom 2:4; Luke 6:35; Col 3:12; Prov 3:3; Mica 6:8 Learn more about me and my poetry at: http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2016, All rights reserved.
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May 15, 2016
May 15, 2016 at 4:12 PM UTC
Poem: The Value of Kindness
Somewhere constant I count my blessings   and submit to nature Sacrificing my physical self to the soul of summering Fall Mother Nature on menopause whisking out hot flashes with a cold shoulder turned on innocence The trails here wind me back in time A place for believing in a higher self without the stigma of belief Some mystical "nonsense" you'd have to see to believe Stranger than the fiction we lived before Autumn turned to ashes to embers and reignited hearts with an amalgam of inspiration Grace is the only constant The unheard rhythm We lose our minds trying to find in the chaos The thrill in the chase to drop the four-on-the-floor somewhere on the journey Hope perpetuates in rhythm Everything here is coming together for my highest good Or That's how my mantra overrides my manic imagination Subliminally stuttering steps A path to within From only out here I walk back to the graves of trees where I parked my car over Hollowed out and haunting my attachment to the Earth Grounded by ghosts The echos in the silence of Singing Hills *This is my worship. This is my tribute.*
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Oct 11, 2013
Oct 11, 2013 at 6:46 PM UTC
Singing Hills
i'm sick to death of this stinking routine perpetual day time TV, petty bickering afternoon pub binges hopeless job hunting morons everywhere, i return to my hometown to the place i was made, molded created and it suffocates me like never before i think of the many reasons i left they circle my thoughts for a long while and then i'm left with one one that overrides the lot it takes a while to spit it out because it's corny, it's stupid, it's not how we work but it's love and the lack of it the love here is in the mundane the easy, the norm. it's not in the heart the love around here lies in television sets and pirate DVDs reduced chicken and new coffee machines gambles on abused horses saturday afternoons in the local cheap holidays to Benidorm a day trip to lidl a weekday evening watching the soaps a phonecall to a family member you don't care about hours playing candy crush the love has lost on us humans the love here, it was lost on me too it missed me out they missed me out it has instead transferred in this reality tv, selfie indulgent zeitgeist it has left our silly bodies and i'm still clinging on trying to dissapear from that new century bubble trying to pick up pieces of that porcelain mosaic that old style bric a brac so long ago forgotten pressure is everywhere notifications beep this tiny block of perspex waiting to be touched waiting to be in communication with someone at the other side of the city the other side of the world oh what a sad existence when all we love is through the inanimate and not ourselves but hey thats the way of the world and we have to accept it or hate it because we can't do both we have to accept our fast paced tumultuous society always moving through space and time at times, difficult painful hard sore but consumerism, capitalism and cronyism it all exists in this big society this 'we're all in it together' society and it cant be ignored.
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Apr 5, 2016
Apr 5, 2016 at 5:02 PM UTC
humdrum consumerisUM
i'm sick to death of this stinking routine perpetual day time TV, petty bickering afternoon pub binges hopeless job hunting morons everywhere, i return to my hometown to the place i was made, molded created and it suffocates me like never before i think of the many reasons i left they circle my thoughts for a long while and then i'm left with one one that overrides the lot it takes a while to spit it out because it's corny, it's stupid, it's not how we work but it's love and the lack of it the love here is in the mundane the easy, the norm. it's not in the heart the love around here lies in television sets and pirate DVDs reduced chicken and new coffee machines gambles on abused horses saturday afternoons in the local cheap holidays to Benidorm a day trip to lidl a weekday evening watching the soaps a phonecall to a family member you don't care about hours playing candy crush the love has lost on us humans the love here, it was lost on me too it missed me out they missed me out it has instead transferred in this reality tv, selfie indulgent zeitgeist it has left our silly bodies and i'm still clinging on trying to dissapear from that new century bubble trying to pick up pieces of that porcelain mosaic that old style bric a brac so long ago forgotten pressure is everywhere notifications beep this tiny block of perspex waiting to be touched waiting to be in communication with someone at the other side of the city the other side of the world oh what a sad existence when all we love is through the inanimate and not ourselves but hey thats the way of the world and we have to accept it or hate it because we can't do both we have to accept our fast paced tumultuous society always moving through space and time at times, difficult painful hard sore but consumerism, capitalism and cronyism it all exists in this big society this 'we're all in it together' society and it cant be ignored.
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71
When I haven't wanted to **** myself in a while And then suddenly the feeling returns It's like I cannot breath And I cannot see All that is here is me and death Death and me The cruelty of the world overrides my mind How can people spread so much hate And the fear that nothing gets better in time Makes me want to pull the plug Or take those pills and chug A bottle of liquor until I'm blue And I feel nothing See nothing Am Nothing. When my mind enters this state Do not tell me to calm down Do not give me your "good-intentioned" advice Because your solutions don't work on the severely depressed Severely fake I guess Since most won't acknowledge its destructive force And refuse to believe it's a disease Because, y'know, it's all in my head. Don't you know I just want attention? Because, of course, I don't totally want to **** myself sometimes. See, I just take the medication I didn't believe in for fun Because if I just smile and look on the bright side Everything will be fine right? No. **** off. In this cycle If I forget my medication even just one day One. ******* Day. I have to fight myself to survive the next Because the medication actually works this time Because my depression is a medical condition Not just some silly game you try to play it off as. Id wish you to walk in my shoes for a day But I couldn't wish that on anyone Because on those days Like today I can't eat Too much sleep would never be enough And death sings out A beautiful song to me Begging me to come home And One day I might listen. And then you'll pretend to care As if you really know me But you don't, it's a game, so don't bother With your ******** shame
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Aug 17, 2016
Aug 17, 2016 at 2:38 PM UTC
Don't Tell Me It's OK
When I haven't wanted to **** myself in a while And then suddenly the feeling returns It's like I cannot breath And I cannot see All that is here is me and death Death and me The cruelty of the world overrides my mind How can people spread so much hate And the fear that nothing gets better in time Makes me want to pull the plug Or take those pills and chug A bottle of liquor until I'm blue And I feel nothing See nothing Am Nothing. When my mind enters this state Do not tell me to calm down Do not give me your "good-intentioned" advice Because your solutions don't work on the severely depressed Severely fake I guess Since most won't acknowledge its destructive force And refuse to believe it's a disease Because, y'know, it's all in my head. Don't you know I just want attention? Because, of course, I don't totally want to **** myself sometimes. See, I just take the medication I didn't believe in for fun Because if I just smile and look on the bright side Everything will be fine right? No. **** off. In this cycle If I forget my medication even just one day One. ******* Day. I have to fight myself to survive the next Because the medication actually works this time Because my depression is a medical condition Not just some silly game you try to play it off as. Id wish you to walk in my shoes for a day But I couldn't wish that on anyone Because on those days Like today I can't eat Too much sleep would never be enough And death sings out A beautiful song to me Begging me to come home And One day I might listen. And then you'll pretend to care As if you really know me But you don't, it's a game, so don't bother With your ******** shame
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60
imagine a calloused doubt. cracked, chipped, clicking like warped wooden floorboards. soft from overuse but still overrides willpower in one palpitating breath. grimy yet illusive like your teeth after a day’s work, collecting gunk that sidles up to calcium companions, crunching down on things that become so bland in the end. doubt is offbeat, monstrous footsteps hidden deep off beaten paths, its thudding is clammy and hurried, aligned to the discordant jazz of your alarmed body. it tastes like coppery heartbeats, rising bile, salt and mucus in the back of your throat. it is a truly uncomfortable thing. it stacks sweetly like buttercream pancakes but crumbles you with such a sour taste on your tongue. imagine an agony that loves you.
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Jul 25, 2018
Jul 25, 2018 at 7:09 PM UTC
gaslight
I Jammed the pain inside, to wait for the defects to reside. Today strays and wanders away until it's stuffed down inside the void of discomfort. Let's roll our imagination onto light able paper, light it, and watch it burn.. See because that's what addiction does. It overrides your body latching on your inner artistry for its fuel. Pretty soon you become a machine, something mindless. Fasten your seatbelt because your on auto-pilot. Now the transactions of your body really start to inaugurate. Your internals no longer has what it takes to fight, to resist, so now come the alterations.The tips of your fingers go hand in hand with the tip of your tongue. How your saliva's lust for substance dismantles the chemical compounds. Your taste buds loving that all too familiar feeling. Your greed full blood consuming every inch of it. As the destruction slowly trickles down your throat your anxious. Then the finale comes, the moment you've been waiting patiently for the manipulation and overhaul of your brain and your reality remodeled, your home. In those seconds pain is never an option, never a thought. Your lost out at sea. But that's all it really is, seconds, minutes, sometimes hours, just a little more time to stick the dysphoria on the back burner. When in truth you've just deepened the scar and exposed it to infections. When it's gone your left with broken thoughts that feel unrepairable. Addiction doesn't just come from pre-packaged materials, they come from every entity you wish that blocks the truth out. They come from unfulfillment , pain, and soak themselves until you are left with no control. You have to fight, fight for your life. Face the music
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Nov 15, 2013
Nov 15, 2013 at 7:21 AM UTC
An Addict of Addicting Addictions ( My view on addiction)
I Jammed the pain inside, to wait for the defects to reside. Today strays and wanders away until it's stuffed down inside the void of discomfort. Let's roll our imagination onto light able paper, light it, and watch it burn.. See because that's what addiction does. It overrides your body latching on your inner artistry for its fuel. Pretty soon you become a machine, something mindless. Fasten your seatbelt because your on auto-pilot. Now the transactions of your body really start to inaugurate. Your internals no longer has what it takes to fight, to resist, so now come the alterations.The tips of your fingers go hand in hand with the tip of your tongue. How your saliva's lust for substance dismantles the chemical compounds. Your taste buds loving that all too familiar feeling. Your greed full blood consuming every inch of it. As the destruction slowly trickles down your throat your anxious. Then the finale comes, the moment you've been waiting patiently for the manipulation and overhaul of your brain and your reality remodeled, your home. In those seconds pain is never an option, never a thought. Your lost out at sea. But that's all it really is, seconds, minutes, sometimes hours, just a little more time to stick the dysphoria on the back burner. When in truth you've just deepened the scar and exposed it to infections. When it's gone your left with broken thoughts that feel unrepairable. Addiction doesn't just come from pre-packaged materials, they come from every entity you wish that blocks the truth out. They come from unfulfillment , pain, and soak themselves until you are left with no control. You have to fight, fight for your life. Face the music
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5
A drink that I remember On a cold wintry night By the steamy fireplace We shared hot chocolate lattes Cozy in each other arms Her reflection by the candlelight Seem warmth,but beautiful A beverage in one hand Our hearts in another Comforting to a sudden twist I relish those days of loneliness Now that a unity is formed As doves nesting in love Can this night last a little longer Until the dawn breaks us Slumbering In dreams of sweetness While the lattes remain cold As darkness overrides me I push away Causing this dream to face A reality that is mine But only a fool's rekindle
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Dec 2, 2009
Dec 2, 2009 at 6:36 AM UTC
Beverage Of Hope
Somedays, the tide only laughs at the sandbags we put up. When the ocean of emotion breaks with waves above our hearts, we swim or drown. The swell of current overrides and riptides pull us down. Move parallel to shore against the tide till firmer ground is found. Swim. r ~ 4/6/14
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Apr 6, 2014
Apr 6, 2014 at 9:57 AM UTC
Swim
It's quiet as the world beyond my window moves forward. Leaving me behind, frozen in my state of mind. The clouds are passing over, crawling across the sky. I'm watching slowly, waiting to see what i can find. Tall trees, branches scratching upon the glass Yet still silence succums the open space that surrounds me. My lack of strength overrides the will to move. Joining the world is but a dream, fading by the minute. Empty thoughts and a damaged heart Leave me exhausted, far exceeding my limits.
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Dec 6, 2012
Dec 6, 2012 at 7:48 PM UTC
Paralyzed
As time goes on humans adapt in many different ways as all living things do. We grow intellectually, emotionally, spiritually but more often than not fears, doubts, insecurities, envies run rampant in our expanding minds. Toxicity, too, develops rippling out, engulfing anyone near in a flame of hate charring them beyond recognition. Adapting, hand in hand with survival, dictates we raise walls barriers to protect ourselves if only to withstand even more punishment, then repeat the cycle. But the thirst for animosity has to be quenched, leading to rampant searches for more and more ways to hurt each other. A propensity for cruelness overrides any potential at reformation, reconciliation or any sort of repairing all the tethers that have eroded away with vigor.
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Jun 2, 2016
Jun 2, 2016 at 10:48 PM UTC
Toxicity
I do not need a cigarette in my hand A flat stomach An eyebrow piercing An infinite knowledge of Socrates. I do not need A quick-witted tongue To be easy to please, short in stature, soft spoken, impatient. I do not need A fondness of antiques The latest car 26 pairs of shoes Diamond earrings, To be passive, To be alluring and enticing and likable, noticeable, noteworthy, appealing or interesting. I need my heart. If my heart does not allure or compel you to see if I really do have 26 pairs or shoes or if I really am a smoker, if I am passive and soft spoken, if I am tall or short, then I am not compelling enough. My heart should be what catches your attention and what makes you stay. My heart overrides all else when looking at my worth; my 26 pairs of shoes will not comfort you, but my heart will. Therefore, look at someones heart. That is where you will truly find someone rather in who they are than what they are.
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Mar 20, 2013
Mar 20, 2013 at 1:15 AM UTC
I Only Need My Heart
I miss you so viciously. I always forget the tragedy of this feeling. Instinct often overrides common sense, leading me to craving your lips, your touch, your everything. But most of all, I miss your eyes. Your eyes were the perfect hue of crushed aquamarine and sapphire stones. Many times those eyes had to observe from the edges my sorrow and despair. Now, I'm observing those eyes smiling, but I'm no longer the cause. I made this choice, to leave you, to leave all of our past behind me. I crawled out of the ditch that was our relationship, burying everything six feet under, where I couldn't dig it back up. Late nights and late night thoughts brought me back to that ditch. The absence of you has led me back to the days when the smile you have now was because of me. The absence of you carves out what has been left of my sanity and I terrorize myself with my impeccable recall. Six days ago, I was on top of the world, while simultaneously existing beneath a sheet of ice covering a pond. Without your permission, I fell back into your aquamarine and sapphire eyes. I was mesmerized by the remnants of our connection. But the time has passed for any confessions outside of these words. Six hundred and fifty miles will soon separate us and put a strain on me. Because of you and my woven tragedy, I'm gaining an ache directly below my breast bone. It's barely there, not at all visible to the naked eye. But it's starting to cut just a little close, getting much nearer to my throat. It's clogging up with an ache that rivals the one growing just beneath my hard-won shell. You've made your lasting impression on me and my nervous system. Your eyes are forever imprinted on the insides of my eyelids, unable to be rubbed away. Now I'm just left with this chaotic pain, and echoes of words screamed into my face.
0
Aug 20, 2012
Aug 20, 2012 at 3:25 AM UTC
I Can't Leave Everything Behind
I miss you so viciously. I always forget the tragedy of this feeling. Instinct often overrides common sense, leading me to craving your lips, your touch, your everything. But most of all, I miss your eyes. Your eyes were the perfect hue of crushed aquamarine and sapphire stones. Many times those eyes had to observe from the edges my sorrow and despair. Now, I'm observing those eyes smiling, but I'm no longer the cause. I made this choice, to leave you, to leave all of our past behind me. I crawled out of the ditch that was our relationship, burying everything six feet under, where I couldn't dig it back up. Late nights and late night thoughts brought me back to that ditch. The absence of you has led me back to the days when the smile you have now was because of me. The absence of you carves out what has been left of my sanity and I terrorize myself with my impeccable recall. Six days ago, I was on top of the world, while simultaneously existing beneath a sheet of ice covering a pond. Without your permission, I fell back into your aquamarine and sapphire eyes. I was mesmerized by the remnants of our connection. But the time has passed for any confessions outside of these words. Six hundred and fifty miles will soon separate us and put a strain on me. Because of you and my woven tragedy, I'm gaining an ache directly below my breast bone. It's barely there, not at all visible to the naked eye. But it's starting to cut just a little close, getting much nearer to my throat. It's clogging up with an ache that rivals the one growing just beneath my hard-won shell. You've made your lasting impression on me and my nervous system. Your eyes are forever imprinted on the insides of my eyelids, unable to be rubbed away. Now I'm just left with this chaotic pain, and echoes of words screamed into my face.
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35
Every night at 8:49 I tie the rope a little bit tighter in hope that your last breath squeezes closer so when I say ‘Ladies and gentlemen’ my charm overrides the sound of your palms banging on the glass as you challenge the water from making you its cadaver and choke back the salted tears that seep from your eyes like the malice that seeps from mine reviewers say it’s clear that I enjoy this trick the most but it’s hard not to when I know your lungs are the consequence of a dripping tap until the basin’s full and you reach your final centilitre of conscious breath at 8:56:02. With one last tug you escape by :03 unfortunately but the papers will say it was your ‘most truthful performance yet’ 5 Stars to The Water Torture Bell Jar. See, there’s a reason these seats fill as fast as your tank, Irving and Houdini had it figured first: if you push a body to its limits and watch it yoyo to the edge of death and back again night after night you will always sell out. There’s more to being a Magician’s Assistant than meets the eye. Perhaps tomorrow I’ll try a new knot.
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Mar 29, 2016
Mar 29, 2016 at 4:00 PM UTC
Irving and Houdini Had It Figured First, or I’m Not a Sociopath I’m a Salesman
Once born it's never on thy lips Upon thy brow a mothers kiss Then others all will follow suit Bestowing light and love to you Instinct overrides them all As lips to your brow they are called Yet as you grow it seems to stop Kisses to your cheek do flock Then when love and lust appear Kisses to the lips doth flow Once again a child is born Now you are drawn to their sweet brow Yet years pass and twilight falls You start to shed this mortal coil Once again they come to kiss On your brow, not your lips A cycle now almost complete Ancestors call, it's time to leave A kiss opon a wrinkled brow Third eye closed, time to go
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Mar 16, 2014
Mar 16, 2014 at 12:01 PM UTC
Third eye kiss
As sleep Takes me Into its depth I'll dream of you Hoping everything Will be alright.
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Jan 27, 2013
Jan 27, 2013 at 9:48 PM UTC
Imagination Overrides
A wounded ***** nestles in the arctic space, an aspiring black widow with venom seeping from the sides. Euphoric beats once played with a dopamine race, The bandshell held a mosh pit of butterflies. Beautifully crafted cocoons left from infatuation or lust, the decreased caterpillars shriveled from insufficient trust. Dismembered victims carried wings that once tickled the walls, new echoes from a voice linger from the calls. Warmth restores the moisture and growth, the sporadic eggs represent a brand new oath. The arctic space reflects light like the blazing sun, the beating rhythm overrides what was done.
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Jan 10, 2016
Jan 10, 2016 at 11:03 AM UTC
Spark of Love
A nation with daddy issues We call out- yes master Success took a sudden left And we've forgotten what we're after- Because mommas got a curfew set No matter if you're plastered A nation founded on being a ******* Afraid of our youth We drown it out with our laughter As long as we fake it It really doesn't matter. We pledge allegiance to the mad hatter Swallow down our issues Call it morning after The fact That our hearts are in our stomachs But our brains are intact Securely in a system That needs to be hacked, We gamble our values Betting what we lack. The age of information: Our odds are stacked Up against A doctrine that overrides Common sense, Pushing our past Into present tense, While we pry our fingers Through the picket fence Between our rights and wrongs And the need to make sense Of the corruption that places Appearance overides the common sense Of discrimination and ideals That we can't fight against Without binding ourselves To a static defense Where poverty and status Don't need a pretense
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Sep 17, 2014
Sep 17, 2014 at 2:21 AM UTC
A brief intermission
Sometimes, if its quiet enough, I can feel and hear my heart beat. I guess I can all the time, but I never really pay any attention to it. I take it for granted everyday. I break it, crush it, loose it..How is it that something so simple and yet so complex, but so small, can determine not only whether you live or die but also whether or not you live a happy life? They say people think with their brains. I think that they think with their hearts more. The heart overrides all facts, explanations, and reasons. It is the root of all things irrational and passionate. The heart is in control ~ not the brain. This makes life beautiful. The entire idea of this is irrational and improvable. Follow your heart. It will break, bleed, fall in love, get you in trouble and suprise you in so many ways. But most of all it will teach you. Follow your heart if you want to live. Follow your brain if you want to stay alive.
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Mar 2, 2010
Mar 2, 2010 at 10:14 AM UTC
heartbeats
Pandas have yin and yang Inscribed on their body A reminder of peace And unity Among the united pieces Of bamboo-eaters Elephants are painted the color gray The true color of actions The Gray of Overlooking Overrides black and white And their wrinkles remind us That there are some things You can't iron away A parrot sits Filled with all the colors Never to be called Beautiful But always different Relating choice words Like people Who only want to fit in
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Dec 27, 2013
Dec 27, 2013 at 3:28 PM UTC
Untitled
I cry for you in those moments when I feel your despair (my lost child), in those moments when fear overtakes, overruns, overrides thinking-- when memories burst through dams and walls carefully constructed. (I have had years of practice) Panicked, on fire-- flee the death that waits in the darkened corner of your reptilian smile. (You did this to me—to her) And the pity, the real pity-- You don’t know-- Can’t understand--- That I (and she) will pay forever for your sin. I cry for me. copyright/all rights reserved AudreyHowitt 2012
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Mar 12, 2012
Mar 12, 2012 at 9:10 PM UTC
Cry For the Lost Child