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"ovulating" poems
I wrote several years ago, a scrap of paper with wondering thoughts--lost. Delinquent, ovulating, ***** lovers, *** devil, **** lies, logic, science dalliance, omission, legality lost, sultry does oppression look like sex--yes: It was forced, it ran it's course but it still runs, runs runs silently, but in actuality, loud quietly, but it prowls, hunting for calamity a sad reality-- a tragedy with wicked twists which linger on my wrists, hips and thighs charred with scars and lies, I lied: with my thighs when i let you in, it wasn't a sin but a lesson I learned, as a girl and education I didn't earn --but I sure paid for no cause for concern but I find it discerning, sick and disturbing--you seek dolls so fine, glossed pretty pink lips that shine, lips like mine but there is no crime, put a price on a doll and say she's worth a dime.
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Oct 7, 2014
Oct 7, 2014 at 12:49 PM UTC
Dolls
After years of bleeding Seeing society retreating On oil slick sands On bible belts And boy bands The world is ovulating Waiting for the impregnation Of a dreamer’s nation Intertwine With an age of the mind The birthing pangs Blanking on the dark ages Yet we cycle back Again Rising up from The ocean’s foam Then sinking Deeply into Their dark depths Another age of greatness is due Returning From the spurning of Science and poetry FDR to McCarthy trials Beatniks to Vietnam The Roman Empire To the dark ages The last sages Got trampled on the road to war The great poets Frequently ignored But it’s time For another revolution Evolution End of pollution And the dissolution Of our greed ran System man
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Nov 15, 2014
Nov 15, 2014 at 11:16 PM UTC
Return From The Dark Ages
Ovulations are jubilations that result in celebrations if so intended
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Sep 14, 2013
Sep 14, 2013 at 6:42 AM UTC
ovulating - 10w
After years of bleeding Seeing society retreating On oil slick sands On bible belts And boy bands The world is ovulating Waiting for the impregnation Of a dreamer’s nation Intertwine With an age of the mind The birthing pangs Blanking on the dark ages Yet we cycle back Again Rising up from The ocean’s foam Then sinking Deeply into Their dark depths Another age of greatness is due Returning From the spurning of Science and poetry FDR to McCarthy trials Beatniks to Vietnam The Roman Empire To the dark ages The last sages Got trampled on the road to war The great poets Frequently ignored But it’s time For another revolution Evolution The end of pollution And the dissolution Of our greed ran System man
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Apr 4, 2015
Apr 4, 2015 at 4:19 PM UTC
Return From the Dark ages
Appetiser - A fresh, hot glance in the mirror To start - A lingering feeling of fat-shame served on a bed of between-wash hair with a  dash of blemishes Main - An overture of ovulating positivity, a feeling of unfiltered joy and self-love. Braisen confidence with likeability Amuse bouche - Insufferable indecision Dessert - A sharp (too sharp) sting of sarcasm washed down with a sweet apology chaser.
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Mar 31, 2019
Mar 31, 2019 at 12:59 PM UTC
Table manners
Weary of MANkind equality near, Where objectifying mimics esthetic nature. Womens openness mirrors earths nutrients, While ovulating magic envelopes nature.
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Mar 9, 2018
Mar 9, 2018 at 2:41 AM UTC
Women Day Poem
I am a spoon in a cathedral extravagantly decorated yet, internally empty in the echoes of the hymns I exist, a manifestation of dreams conquered by divine intervention a minuscule cloud in a land-bound hurricane growing in voracity paired with destructiveness my God is a razor blade blood my only hope of absolution the last moments of sanity hope fades faith and violence inseparable eternitys mates annually ovulating giving birth to consciousness awareness a sword decimating free will at the end of the day, it remains we are no more than a rat in an electrified maze
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Oct 9, 2017
Oct 9, 2017 at 12:25 PM UTC
A Spoon Surrounded by Knives
Had my blood results again today, Another inconclusive answer, I may, I may not be ovulating, A pregnancy seems so far away, All I dream, wish & hope for seem to be on hold, maybe until forever or until made in a lab, unless we're really lucky & we can make one on our own. I fear all the medication, Injecting myself each day, as my only hope to conceive a little baby boy or girl, The one thing in life that is meant to be natural, without a second thought, Yet there's me & my loved one wanting, without much hope in site, Cuddles in bed just don't do the job, It may have to be a test tube baby made within the lab, All the doctor's helping, all the tests that come, with a chance of still leaving with none. All the love to give, we have, All the guidance, we can give, All the things a child could wish for we'd do all we could. Yet the day with two blue lines seems to be a wish to far, We'll fight & fight but hope seems to fade, But the love for a baby grows each & every day.
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Oct 13, 2014
Oct 13, 2014 at 5:09 PM UTC
Dream To Far
My face Stole the skin of a diamond To tote as it’s own mask of Sheepskin. Me, being the ever-ovulating orchestrator Needed to pin the tail on this donkey Only to rationalize why it is Only in our nature to scrutinize Our flaws, like a jeweler. Each facet is forced to plead their case While in the back of their mind’s eye They know they will only be allowed on probation Until the abuse from the lapidary starts again. Tell me I’m not a real diamond But then have the courtesy To shatter me Back into young, unglazed sand
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May 4, 2017
May 4, 2017 at 8:01 PM UTC
Gemology
before work i wanted to write a poem about how i stopped ovulating when my bmi dipped below seventeen; about how we ******* around in the bathtub, still wearing our carharts. but i couldn't, i had one long braid to **** with a handful of pebbles and a neon blow gun [with which] i will practice my new trade.
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Dec 17, 2014
Dec 17, 2014 at 8:36 AM UTC
Untitled