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"pacemaker" poems
Sunflower, Don't Die From My Soul, Sunlight Still Lurks In My Veins, Imagination Quenches Your Thirst, Though Your Roots Are Exposed, I Kiss Every Petal, To Keep You Alive *Rose, Don't Die, You Are The Passion In My Garden Of Me, Don't Let The Frost Over Take You, Snowflakes Dance Around You, Enjoy The Cold* Sunflower, Oh Sunflower, It's Always Summer In My Garden, Let The Showers Of Enlightenment, Keep Your Petals Smooth And Age Free *Rose, Oh Rose, Rose With Green Eyes, Stay Strong, Don't Let The Weeds Overtake You, You Are Beautiful, You Are The Pacemaker, To Anyone Without A Heart, If You Fail To Survive, So Will I*
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Nov 1, 2012
Nov 1, 2012 at 8:04 PM UTC
Sunflowers And Roses
Yeah guys, just back from the doctor’s Turns out he’s worked at Apple and Samsung and such – he’s really into technology and all that, you know the latest stuff, really “The heart,” he pronounced, “is really a technology” anyway, he’s given me a pacemaker for me heart and the doc, he said also it’s state-of-the-art technology so I can also download apps for my liver, kidneys and my bowels if needs be yeah, I really feel good inside out and all the way down
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Jan 15, 2014
Jan 15, 2014 at 4:21 AM UTC
my pacemaker, state of the art
Framed so poetically, there it stays Never steps out of its flimsy boundary line but it takes in everything with him Inside a a static sea frame, there roam all the wild guesses you took: all blue all trapped, as erratic and diminishing as it was named. Was you were to throw that time when you tried to take to the sea all into it? There is no need to make me open my eyes to see something as obvious as this for a even a blind man can see it so crystal clear in his pitch black vision I'm closing my eyes and hope it stops but    ***I remember waking up    somewhere in midnight term    drowning in salty seas    and making bitter coffee to    recede the former taste.    I found your diary on the sea    shore with all of the demerara    sugar sand    disconnecting wires in my mind    with overflowing water in the    bathtub    and getting electrocuted.    Alarms when off buzzing with    tick tocks    I found myself with    a pacemaker also    your dying digital clock you had    since forever, displaying    blurs of phobia*** Am I wrong to be trying to breath underwater Would it be right to despise the blue sea that should soothes us that turned grey for all our fears we threw in without hesitate I put all of my fears into this sea, as a glitched version of your deceiving eye hue, demerara sugar on the edge of your lips lingering in my coffee chronomentrophobia oh thalassophobia, yet I was to choose between icy cold ocean air and falling into clocks' icicle-like hands. This is much of an error as it is a tsunami washing us with a tide of heartache like over sugared coffee with still bitter taste that melted into my inner cheeks when I had ulcers and you wearing wristwatch while holding my hands.
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Oct 31, 2014
Oct 31, 2014 at 10:03 AM UTC
Chronomentrophobia / Thalassophobia
Framed so poetically, there it stays Never steps out of its flimsy boundary line but it takes in everything with him Inside a a static sea frame, there roam all the wild guesses you took: all blue all trapped, as erratic and diminishing as it was named. Was you were to throw that time when you tried to take to the sea all into it? There is no need to make me open my eyes to see something as obvious as this for a even a blind man can see it so crystal clear in his pitch black vision I'm closing my eyes and hope it stops but    ***I remember waking up    somewhere in midnight term    drowning in salty seas    and making bitter coffee to    recede the former taste.    I found your diary on the sea    shore with all of the demerara    sugar sand    disconnecting wires in my mind    with overflowing water in the    bathtub    and getting electrocuted.    Alarms when off buzzing with    tick tocks    I found myself with    a pacemaker also    your dying digital clock you had    since forever, displaying    blurs of phobia*** Am I wrong to be trying to breath underwater Would it be right to despise the blue sea that should soothes us that turned grey for all our fears we threw in without hesitate I put all of my fears into this sea, as a glitched version of your deceiving eye hue, demerara sugar on the edge of your lips lingering in my coffee chronomentrophobia oh thalassophobia, yet I was to choose between icy cold ocean air and falling into clocks' icicle-like hands. This is much of an error as it is a tsunami washing us with a tide of heartache like over sugared coffee with still bitter taste that melted into my inner cheeks when I had ulcers and you wearing wristwatch while holding my hands.
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55
*I once had my mental faculties in check And my heart’s pacemaker functioning relatively normally Didn’t know you’d be a pain in the neck Causing my heart to oscillate solemnly From acute insanity to imagined bliss Gravity’s power rendered dysfunctional And I plunged heedlessly into love’s abyss Evidently an amateur radical My ego prostrated My emotions infatuated* Am indeed yet another statistic Of cupid’s uncanny antics.
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Aug 27, 2013
Aug 27, 2013 at 8:48 AM UTC
Free fall
Love Sonnet This afternoon at the local grocer I had bought a bottle of beer and a tin of tuna fish and I meet the daughter of the woman I had been in love with, I had never seen her before and said halloo like she knew me and she was as lovely as her mother was. Her mother came and I said something flattering, they both smiled knowingly, you can't fool a woman about love. I'm sure her mother had told her daughter of my trips to the post office where she worked t the time. And they have been laughing, not of derision, but by my inability to express my love openly. I'm telling this because when I came from hospital in December after collapsing and had been given a pacemaker and the onset of the shingles I was in despair both physically and mentally and I said if I had died I would have no knowledge about this tristesse My wife cried and I promised not to speak thus again and I would not met the daughter of the woman I loved
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Jul 25, 2015
Jul 25, 2015 at 2:54 AM UTC
love sonnet
Girls have beautiful legs and men have beautiful hearts, both I love to squeeze, both I love to open hide my gold locket inside like a ticking bomb: I use the chain to lasso arteries and muscles for me to chew on but the necklace unbolts for a souvenir collected inside. It could be the curly hair of his shin, one wisp from her neck I previously tugged on with my teeth. I performed open-heart surgery on a man and open-leg surgery on a woman both called me back to say a second goodbye and I wonder, I wonder which farewell will be the final. When will the mementos be massacred glued to a comatose form, deceased into an emotionless resin? I could amputate their limbs and turn off the pacemaker.
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Feb 21, 2013
Feb 21, 2013 at 3:44 PM UTC
memento mori
The clown doctor gave lolly-pops to children. The circus sergeant tames white tigers with red steaks. The small professors pacemaker shout little words. The unchanged man sit medicated empty of stock. The heros drown in gun-power river radiation. The operation of the new world, looks so divided.
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Nov 29, 2012
Nov 29, 2012 at 8:09 PM UTC
Morrow,
This city breathes the blues buried just under the skin in the memory of cleaners and slaughter Here the gospel travels from mouth to heart and it offers comfort as by-catch of the bottle The center as a pacemaker in an old and worn out body is waiting for the final lines from a song by Muddy Waters "You ain't gonna trouble poor me, anymore "
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Mar 24, 2014
Mar 24, 2014 at 8:09 AM UTC
Chicago Blues
It takes 3 minutes for you to lose consciousness by lack of oxygen This is suffocating Your brain begins to fire neurons off into the maze of your body telling it secrets that will forever be held on its tongue Brain death occurs after 6 minutes This is the cessation of all brain function This is death by the deprivation of the air you need to go on However In any other circumstance where the heart is not deprived of oxygen it will keep beating for a period of time. this was me when you left I went brain dead My heart continues to beat of its' own accord the pacemaker is set to pump my blood but my lungs crept up and out of my throat this was my suffocation not by hanging, not by smothering It takes 5 minutes for brain cells to start dying at a slow dance of a pace This is asphyxiation Consciousness will be lost within 2 minutes like falling into a deep sleep, peaceful and then all at once Asphyxiation is the build up of a substance such as carbon dioxide in the body that interferes with the oxygenation of your organs This death is timely The car running in the garage or the bag slipped over a head This death takes 20 minutes our love was a metaphor of this, a slow dance into despair the outcome was the same either way but it seemed like you picked the method with the flip of a coin it was lengthy, it was beautiful, but it was also devastating.
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Mar 19, 2015
Mar 19, 2015 at 9:58 PM UTC
Brain Cells in Love
You cannot just give up religion for lent, and expect no consequences. I am in every moment you discard. You run on insistent consistency, analytical calculations, scraps of math equations pieced together to form your functioning But, you cannot rationalize away my emotions. My heart and my affection. You cannot compartmentalize me, shave off my soft curved edges with a butter knife to fit the labeled angular box you have created for yourself. I still count even if you’re making things even. But I understand, sometimes my hugs last 3 seconds too long. -- Luke, There is no picture on a box to tell you what you’re supposed to look like when all this is over. You might have built yourself, but I was born. I am more than a body. I am your past, your perspective your platelets your pacemaker I will never truly leave.
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Feb 20, 2013
Feb 20, 2013 at 11:36 AM UTC
dear Luke,
*You have saved my life 'Cos amid countless heartbreaks You're my pacemaker...* © Raphael Uzor
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Jul 20, 2014
Jul 20, 2014 at 6:13 AM UTC
Savior (Haiku)
For Tom Surdam Town's quiet— aside from the timid waltz of a porch-swing wind chime and the backyard cricket kingdoms. I passed the funeral apartments, the static cat, and the bar stool where my uncle wore his soul sore on steel strings in a wooden shot glass. He was a good man, a cigarette saint with a pacemaker scab. A tavern sweetheart with a memory made of drink chips and Marlboro foil. I saw an asphalt toad on the bridge bathing in the ghost glint of the only stop light in town beside another that was smeared like house paint just inches from the storm drain, from home.
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May 5, 2015
May 5, 2015 at 1:23 AM UTC
Flat Soul
When you falter, I f a l t e r. Guess what happens when you stop.
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Jun 7, 2014
Jun 7, 2014 at 6:30 PM UTC
Pacemaker
Lover, You are not the heartbeat. I am the heartbeat. I have to, don't you see? I'd like for you to be just Glorious! Bursting through my blood. But you at best, a pacemaker. You shock me now and then again. This is how I know you to be a lover and sadly not, my love.
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Aug 19, 2013
Aug 19, 2013 at 3:13 PM UTC
Pacemaker
I don't miss you, but I don't sleep with the covers tucked in anymore. I started changing the sheets more often and I'm doing okay, but I'll never flip my pillow the way you did. I don't miss you, but I leave crumpled wet towels on the floor now. I bought a new one specifically for my hair when it has just been dyed, it's plain black. I hope your blue towel is stained pink forever. I don't miss you, but I haven't watched the sunset for the last two weeks. I've started watching the sunrise instead. I'm tired of endings. I'm still doing okay. I don't miss you, but every time I write about you my heart races and everything turns into darkness. My doctor would probably suggest a pacemaker. I suggest another drink. I don't miss you, but I had to block your number to stop myself crawling back. I still remember it better than my own. I don't miss you, but maybe I'm lying to myself. I don't miss you, but I hope you miss me. I don't miss you, but maybe I should.
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Jun 18, 2016
Jun 18, 2016 at 10:53 AM UTC
18/06/16
She came in my life after millions of Prays to god Her unique face is not lesser than a pacemaker for a heart patient She enlights me in my every hard hour Such sisters ❤️♥️💗💚 Are true well wisher provided by God I thank you God very much for this most precious gift I will always be great full towards you ❤️💙❤️❤️💙💕❣️
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Jul 13, 2020
Jul 13, 2020 at 5:17 AM UTC
Pari
You know if you tried to describe life The last few hours You wouldn't possible be able to describe went on Well I went to the driving range Then went for a walk at my old college Then drove home So much happened in that period I hit it well 7 irons, wedges, hybrids, drivers Behind, down and out to the target Making that just short of 3/4 swing now For accuracy One must be accurate in golf Sultans of swing was playing in the background A guy hit on a different part of the range hit a ball And it hit this metal bin And the ball rolled right up to where I was hitting Sweet an extra ball for me to hit now (lol) I saw the older gentleman at the range Who always works there I hope he is well He goes through the motions Watering the plants Puts the ***** into the machine I see him hanging out with some of his friends there sometimes So then I went into the car and turned on the radio I arrived at my old campus just a 2 minute drive directly to the south I had a great time walking around campus I had my back brace   My knee braces Yes, one should brace oneself I turned on Kashmir By Led Zeppelin As I walked through the parking lot And its strange you know I felt like I was walking on air It really is a world of wonderful happenings And its me Its me that has to bring the joy The love to all sentient beings I must bring the love I thought about that I made my way to the library Where I read an article In Scientific American About a pacemaker that contains a gear That is used in a wristwatch That is powered by the heartbeat I saw a pretty woman And thought it must be nice to have a friend to talk to Bleh She would just be bothered if I went up to her I walked around campus This one girl was shocked to see a raccoon I saw three of them once All feeding from a trash bag I took pictures Then I walked to my car And drove off listening to U2 From one time To the next The emptiness remains Dream world Row row row your boat Gently down the stream Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, Life is but a dream
0
Jan 26, 2015
Jan 26, 2015 at 1:02 PM UTC
5 to 9 p.m.
You know if you tried to describe life The last few hours You wouldn't possible be able to describe went on Well I went to the driving range Then went for a walk at my old college Then drove home So much happened in that period I hit it well 7 irons, wedges, hybrids, drivers Behind, down and out to the target Making that just short of 3/4 swing now For accuracy One must be accurate in golf Sultans of swing was playing in the background A guy hit on a different part of the range hit a ball And it hit this metal bin And the ball rolled right up to where I was hitting Sweet an extra ball for me to hit now (lol) I saw the older gentleman at the range Who always works there I hope he is well He goes through the motions Watering the plants Puts the ***** into the machine I see him hanging out with some of his friends there sometimes So then I went into the car and turned on the radio I arrived at my old campus just a 2 minute drive directly to the south I had a great time walking around campus I had my back brace   My knee braces Yes, one should brace oneself I turned on Kashmir By Led Zeppelin As I walked through the parking lot And its strange you know I felt like I was walking on air It really is a world of wonderful happenings And its me Its me that has to bring the joy The love to all sentient beings I must bring the love I thought about that I made my way to the library Where I read an article In Scientific American About a pacemaker that contains a gear That is used in a wristwatch That is powered by the heartbeat I saw a pretty woman And thought it must be nice to have a friend to talk to Bleh She would just be bothered if I went up to her I walked around campus This one girl was shocked to see a raccoon I saw three of them once All feeding from a trash bag I took pictures Then I walked to my car And drove off listening to U2 From one time To the next The emptiness remains Dream world Row row row your boat Gently down the stream Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, Life is but a dream
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you washed the salt out of my eyes you stomped your feet, refused goodbyes you burned my books when I tried to write and set up traps to catch me in the night I followed your steps up to the cliff and tried to recall how it felt to live before this cage of you that I elated when this infinity could not be sated So many steps seen from where I stood so much bad diminished so much good and those lies were always easier to tell before that mention of where he fell A push that was but kinetic emotion who cried the tears, formed the ocean? Your own were dried long before this last and your steps have penned me in the past.
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May 4, 2015
May 4, 2015 at 4:44 PM UTC
How to live without a pacemaker.
IF you haven't my read, my poetic voice,for quite some time,its only because, on January 3rd, on a Germaintown street, I blacked out,fell down ,and on the sidewalk hurt,my head,somebody passing by,called 911, when being put, into the ambulance on the way,to Chesthill Hospital,I was awake, long enough, to tell the ambulance driver my medical history, and who to call, each loved one,close to me,I put in room,570A, propped up, in a bed,with bars on either side, that went up or down, and as the Iv, dripped into,my right vein,while lying on,my back,I thank the Lord, that I was still, alive, and here,above, the ground,the cardiogist, thought, that I would need,a pacemaker,but on the treadmill, as I walked for seven full,minutes, even he,was amazed, and I'm grateful ,that I came home,on JANUARY 6th,and now am writing, and sharing this very,poem, because I could,have been down, deep, on the other side,of life, in a newly dug fresh grave.
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Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 5:41 PM UTC
ROOM 570A BY VICTOR TRIPP
Every poet has a beginning Every river begins somewhere, Like every story, or poem, I ever wrote, behind the door of fearfulness I had to let go the uneasiness of entrapment that ******* my wellbeing. The world is so crazy right now, Even with all what mother nature dash out As humans' beings we, still hang on strong,   Every poet or poetess has a beginning Every river begins somewhere, “ I just love when she belts out “You know my Name! That songstress can sing, She was one of the poets whom   Was able to get from behind the door of darkness And sang her heart out to the world. She has a relationship with her music I have a feud with my poems, I see the world in a different light every day **“I know people can be judgmental and difficult. But if you shut yourself away from the world, you'll never see how beautiful it really is.” ― Imania Margrie, The Pacemaker ** Take some time away from your job And stay behind close door Do you notice how you feel? Away from that environment   For me its peace, the freedom And control of oneself Every poet has a beginning Every river begins somewhere,
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Jul 12, 2021
Jul 12, 2021 at 8:12 AM UTC
You Know My Name
These long winter roads I roam. Back and fourth searching for warmth Sunset, orange, passion fruit, sugar. The sky lights up baby blue and mango As brightness hides. The cold pinches my cheeks and soaks through my skinny jeans. As the frozen air bites my lungs, cigarette smoke has never tasted sweeter. The grass CRUNCHes as I walk, frozen, semi-permafrost tundra. Frozen pumpkins on every porch, Cobwebs and skeletons still hanging from gutters. As I fumble for my keys with frostbitten hands, hard candy has never tasted sweeter. It's black. The frost on the ground reflects my headlights. I'm carried by the flying creatures in my abdomen as I step out of my car. Weightlessly and anxiously I walk on the styrofoam grass. Concrete more solid and gray than any other day, I'm standing on your porch. My tight, constricted, dry winter skin almost splits my knuckles as I knock and I laugh because I hear you coming to answer and I know I should have used the doorbell. I'm greeted with thunderously chilled eyes and a fox smile. My pacemaker gives out and time seems to freeze. Time returns again when I feel your arms around my neck, Pulling my corpse inside, warm air has never tasted sweeter. You sit me down, bring me a hot drink. I sip and burn myself. I laugh again, a booming laugh. I almost fall off the couch, why am I so happy. I'm able to right myself back up, I didn't spill anything fortunately. I look at you and my pacemaker gives out again. I need to get this thing checked. You come over to me, sit on my lap, Whisper a sweet nothing in my ear, and as my hairs begin to stand from the crispness in your voice, you kiss me. In this life, lips have never tasted sweeter. **You Taste Sweeter.**
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Apr 24, 2017
Apr 24, 2017 at 3:12 AM UTC
Frozen Pumpkin Sweets
These long winter roads I roam. Back and fourth searching for warmth Sunset, orange, passion fruit, sugar. The sky lights up baby blue and mango As brightness hides. The cold pinches my cheeks and soaks through my skinny jeans. As the frozen air bites my lungs, cigarette smoke has never tasted sweeter. The grass CRUNCHes as I walk, frozen, semi-permafrost tundra. Frozen pumpkins on every porch, Cobwebs and skeletons still hanging from gutters. As I fumble for my keys with frostbitten hands, hard candy has never tasted sweeter. It's black. The frost on the ground reflects my headlights. I'm carried by the flying creatures in my abdomen as I step out of my car. Weightlessly and anxiously I walk on the styrofoam grass. Concrete more solid and gray than any other day, I'm standing on your porch. My tight, constricted, dry winter skin almost splits my knuckles as I knock and I laugh because I hear you coming to answer and I know I should have used the doorbell. I'm greeted with thunderously chilled eyes and a fox smile. My pacemaker gives out and time seems to freeze. Time returns again when I feel your arms around my neck, Pulling my corpse inside, warm air has never tasted sweeter. You sit me down, bring me a hot drink. I sip and burn myself. I laugh again, a booming laugh. I almost fall off the couch, why am I so happy. I'm able to right myself back up, I didn't spill anything fortunately. I look at you and my pacemaker gives out again. I need to get this thing checked. You come over to me, sit on my lap, Whisper a sweet nothing in my ear, and as my hairs begin to stand from the crispness in your voice, you kiss me. In this life, lips have never tasted sweeter. **You Taste Sweeter.**
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34
My final line The sky is black, the curtains have been closed. I have lost all the love in the world; so empty; so alone. The lights are turned out, the heating is off. It was once so bright and warm here, But now all that was and all my dreams are lost. I am without a hope; nothing to see. Everything gone; broken pieces. The clock has stopped, My world no longer spins; Time is at an end and there will be no more beginning. I pray for reincarnation, but I am without faith. The only emotions I had, like my hair, they are all fading to grey. The roots have cracked, The branches have snapped, The leaves have fallen, The trunk is under attack, From the cells inside; No light shines from my eyes. I can no longer smile, this is my final mile. At the end of a short race, I could never keep up with the pace. My pacemaker heart needs another kick-start. Hook me up with love; Do you have her number? Tell her I am going soon and this is no rumour. But if she wants to be loved for a moment in time, Then she should let me know if she wants to be loved, Before I read my final line… (C)2017 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
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Nov 25, 2020
Nov 25, 2020 at 11:02 AM UTC
My final line
The plump nurse called my name and I followed her to the Xray room. Take off your jacket she said . I took off my jacket and placed it over a plastic chair. Have you a pacemaker or medallion around your neck. I said I had neither. Can you take off your shirt please she said. I removed the shirt. Lay on the couch on your back she said. I eased myself onto the couch and lay on my back. Lie still please she said. I lay still. She walked into a screened off area and did whatever she did and a light came and went. She was behind the screened off area. I was there alone just the Xray and me. Ok you can go sit outside while I check the film. I dressed and sat outside. The waiting room was packed and hot.   After a few minutes she said you can go all is fine. I got up and walked out having been x rayed by a plump nurse On a hot day in late May.
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Jul 16, 2017
Jul 16, 2017 at 2:45 PM UTC
YOU ARE NEXT.