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"palliatives" poems
Okay, okay, Enough scribbling About old flames, Old friends, All the analogies to death, E.R. runs, hospices, Palliatives, Vision Nursing Homes, Black gloves and lilies, Suicides and terrorists. Enough of that Already. Now, What's left to theme about? Just love.
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Mar 10, 2015
Mar 10, 2015 at 3:14 PM UTC
Enough Sad Poems
"May poetry be our salvation, liberation and Nirvana" Bala *so many ifs in our daily lives the ifs that pockmark lives individuation, look-back crossroad regrets, daily harvested, road poorly chosen, the kiss not taken, a brother, for a petty sake, forsaken, a sister, sea-drowned, left undefended, by foolish parental expectations many are the global conjunctions, commencing and ending with an "if only," today's state-of-the-world curse, uttered when reading the front page's mayhem and senseless, never-aging, new and old excuses raging so many palliatives on offer, what matters yet one more, none seem able, none proven capable, of essencing a humanity so simple basic when the moment at hand needs a redirection that a loving rhyme can sway but in my inbox from India comes a hope, a wish, that leads a man to dream, envision societies that could surround-sound itself with wisps of words, in the oddest places, throwing us offsides, in a make us see ourselves in better ways a morning poem before the TV weather, a verse insert tween news reports of who murdered whom this day, subway poems, a Super Bowl commercial recitation that makes us lick our lips, poetic literacy in small things, a minister or president's speech a recitation of a nation's verbal wealth, instead of rejoinders and accusations ah just a foolish notion at 4:22am, there is no money in poetry, thus its possibilities to soften and stem, cure and elevate enhance the perchance of a different way to, salvation, liberation, and nirvana, seems so unlikely but there is that small step one could take, leave a poem on the night table, a first thought, a morn pill of humankind, be a softener of a day just begun*
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Jan 27, 2015
Jan 27, 2015 at 4:48 AM UTC
may poetry be our salvation
"May poetry be our salvation, liberation and Nirvana" Bala *so many ifs in our daily lives the ifs that pockmark lives individuation, look-back crossroad regrets, daily harvested, road poorly chosen, the kiss not taken, a brother, for a petty sake, forsaken, a sister, sea-drowned, left undefended, by foolish parental expectations many are the global conjunctions, commencing and ending with an "if only," today's state-of-the-world curse, uttered when reading the front page's mayhem and senseless, never-aging, new and old excuses raging so many palliatives on offer, what matters yet one more, none seem able, none proven capable, of essencing a humanity so simple basic when the moment at hand needs a redirection that a loving rhyme can sway but in my inbox from India comes a hope, a wish, that leads a man to dream, envision societies that could surround-sound itself with wisps of words, in the oddest places, throwing us offsides, in a make us see ourselves in better ways a morning poem before the TV weather, a verse insert tween news reports of who murdered whom this day, subway poems, a Super Bowl commercial recitation that makes us lick our lips, poetic literacy in small things, a minister or president's speech a recitation of a nation's verbal wealth, instead of rejoinders and accusations ah just a foolish notion at 4:22am, there is no money in poetry, thus its possibilities to soften and stem, cure and elevate enhance the perchance of a different way to, salvation, liberation, and nirvana, seems so unlikely but there is that small step one could take, leave a poem on the night table, a first thought, a morn pill of humankind, be a softener of a day just begun*
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Sidestepping shadow-plays boxed in bonus-sized portions for garden-varietal religions, I've had these scuzzy intimations great big (voids) lie behind most altruistic inclinations and the biggest news is, we're still expanding with-in-exhaustible potentials to be eternally filled greater. Now I'll admit to being hampered in my cognitive capacity for meaningful pattern recognition by my debilitating predisposition toward concentrated forms of myopia, ergo, I can't shape a formless mess into anything but incoherent flimflam. I've tried alleviating this condition with meditative concoctions and palliatives of sensory deprivation, yet I fear I'll need a silicon-chip-enhanced head before I can glimpse the cosmic legerdemain spinning its paradoxes of endless surfaces but no top. If I finally do, I'll smile big as a great-white gull winning his first demonstration hand at the three-card monte of not-to-be reconciled contradictions.
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May 15, 2010
May 15, 2010 at 9:41 AM UTC
Infinite potential of a finite mind
i have lived under a thousand suns each day a different combination of powders and palliatives each day a different way to substitute people and painkillers i have found the meaning of life and it is such— the only way to forget your name is to also forget mine
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Jun 19, 2014
Jun 19, 2014 at 1:35 AM UTC
exhausted
My voice, now filled with skeletons and ghosts, breaths with the asthma of an old sadness. Sadness, cursed and profound, and in even deeper hideout that despite the evident, I just preserve the sensation but not the face, maybe the same last, red, and painful of Hemingway’s. The same feeling is the one that prevents me from turning off the lights of this room and give a new kiss, honest and juvenile, or the boldness of accidentally pouring some sauce over a friendly skin and sip from it, or to look into a pair of new alien eyes, that just seconds ago threw their dice to Destiny. 3 plays in the same game and 58 weeks after, I am older but not happier. I have been living on palliatives of love. There are 10 inches of distance between your heart and mine, but 5000 miles of silence between my face and yours… Thus, they scream at me with the strength of their paroxytones, the EVPs of Love.
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May 26, 2013
May 26, 2013 at 1:11 PM UTC
EVPs of Love
The intentions of the colour speak ill. As the designer weeps in tears The white is a filthy colour of all As the double green symbolises hunger. The great groundnut pyramids stand as statutes. Termites scavenge the remnants. Who can stop the difficulties of the nation? A patriot, coward, cattle rustler or an alien! The blood of the unsung heroes Colour the flag of the nation Bemoaning signs of failed leadership. Who led the actions of 10102020? The Camouflage, Alausa, Aso Rock or the Unseen forces! Men suffer from avarice Crowd symbolises poverty Likening to the extortions of palliatives Under the framework of bureaucracy.
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Jan 27, 2021
Jan 27, 2021 at 12:50 PM UTC
The Flag
Affliction with mental illness beasts sans, depression, panic/ anxiety obsessive compulsive disorder didst for most of my lix splitting life zap psychological state plagued with sweaty palms, irritable bowel syndrome, mind chatter constantly doth yip and yap, whereby extensive stretches of time bore cerebral torture housing invisible mailer daemon nemesis wrap ping entire corporeal to suicidal ideations to escape once and for all asphyxiating, gamesomely hectoring imps, nauseating non-apparent trap regularly pitching emotional welfare to and fro, hither and yon, thence lashing out at self - summarized with the non medical term, yet descriptive word "snap" though a half dozen medications (listed as follows) alleviate sensation akin to feeling besieged, and pugilistic-ally rapped, yet (Quetiapine tab 300mg, Clomipramine cap 50mg, Fluoxetine cap 40mg, Fluoxetine cap 20mg, Busipirone tab 15mg, and Clonozepam tab 0.5mg) prior to prescriptive palliatives, aye experienced debilitating quality of life, thus I accept function-able, manageable unfortunate side effects such, viz thinning hair, necessity to take daily nap abdominal weight gain, where love handles replaced wash board stomach, adipose tissue not quite spilling o'er me lap so in summary burden of proof no longer tethers Sisyphean rolling rocks interestingly enough this figurative lid locks akin to sealing schizoid "Pandora box).
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May 30, 2018
May 30, 2018 at 4:25 PM UTC
Redoubtable Pestiferous Nemesis