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"pedaled" poems
The maiden so fair In all her grace The gold leaf in her hair And snow pedaled face Night and day we sing In elegant song A rhyme to our queen       And look Oberon!!!!!
0
Jul 21, 2018
Jul 21, 2018 at 11:34 PM UTC
Titania
I can hear your whisper, upon the breeze, and see your smile, in the sun. I touch your kisses, by the dew, as the meadow lark, sings his song. I can smell your fragrance, upon pedaled stems, and the color abundance, shows your joy. I feel your tears, when it rains, soft, salty, and warm. I will always listen, to how you speak to me, silent purity, upon my heart.
0
Jan 22, 2015
Jan 22, 2015 at 6:26 PM UTC
Silent Talk
in the middle of a dark night no moon or street light and  I could hardly see the road in front of me but it was free and so we settled and thus we pedaled more then 30 winding miles into this wilderness of isles or so it seemed so very mean, just like a dream he said "continue , for it is in you and we can make it to the place within an hour, at this pace." his plan was brutal I'm not a poodle but I could truly smell the sweat and feeling hot and sopping wet it was no fun. at. all and like the day y'all so very done again not fun and it is true that maybe you would think ahead and plan the weekend get a room and buy a map none of this crap (but I'm a sap and went along with his idea for I had hopes for us last year) and so we learned the hard way burned. Well I could barely, i say just barely make out the single line white striping while he's right behind me griping, "can't you speed up? we're gonna meet up and the collision won't be pleasant" not that pleasant was he were so very DER! it's so ironic, perhaps moronic for there were headlights coming up the hill in front and to be blunt they had to blind me oh please don't mind me for I quickly left the scene right off the road and with scream into the blackness of a pitch which sent me down into a ditch a steep ravine so very mean and then the bike no longer able to remain beneath my seat after that drop the roll to stop landed on top and not so sweet so very beat I said '"oh sheet" I was not laughing, nor was I crying and but more like " could it be dear Lord that I am dying? Oh my God, excuse the curse so freaking odd, though i've seen worse and though my body's somewhat shaken not a bone or tooth was breakin' and I'm fully wide awake and not a pain or any ache~ so very odd it must be God. and there I lie perfectly high my eyes wide open couldn't scope but in the darkness I could ***** the rock beside my fallen hide and in a moment not an omen he said "Gee!" "Is this your knee?" I said: " Hey Mr. Moulder, you've got my shoulder." "I should have driven in the Bently" and as he pulled the bike off gently asking how these things do happen "nevermind, just lets get snappin" and we made it to the youth hostel that night.
0
Sep 14, 2013
Sep 14, 2013 at 10:41 PM UTC
night cliff biking
in the middle of a dark night no moon or street light and  I could hardly see the road in front of me but it was free and so we settled and thus we pedaled more then 30 winding miles into this wilderness of isles or so it seemed so very mean, just like a dream he said "continue , for it is in you and we can make it to the place within an hour, at this pace." his plan was brutal I'm not a poodle but I could truly smell the sweat and feeling hot and sopping wet it was no fun. at. all and like the day y'all so very done again not fun and it is true that maybe you would think ahead and plan the weekend get a room and buy a map none of this crap (but I'm a sap and went along with his idea for I had hopes for us last year) and so we learned the hard way burned. Well I could barely, i say just barely make out the single line white striping while he's right behind me griping, "can't you speed up? we're gonna meet up and the collision won't be pleasant" not that pleasant was he were so very DER! it's so ironic, perhaps moronic for there were headlights coming up the hill in front and to be blunt they had to blind me oh please don't mind me for I quickly left the scene right off the road and with scream into the blackness of a pitch which sent me down into a ditch a steep ravine so very mean and then the bike no longer able to remain beneath my seat after that drop the roll to stop landed on top and not so sweet so very beat I said '"oh sheet" I was not laughing, nor was I crying and but more like " could it be dear Lord that I am dying? Oh my God, excuse the curse so freaking odd, though i've seen worse and though my body's somewhat shaken not a bone or tooth was breakin' and I'm fully wide awake and not a pain or any ache~ so very odd it must be God. and there I lie perfectly high my eyes wide open couldn't scope but in the darkness I could ***** the rock beside my fallen hide and in a moment not an omen he said "Gee!" "Is this your knee?" I said: " Hey Mr. Moulder, you've got my shoulder." "I should have driven in the Bently" and as he pulled the bike off gently asking how these things do happen "nevermind, just lets get snappin" and we made it to the youth hostel that night.
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89
During my second trimester I felt like getting some fresh air. I went out cycling through town in the warm sunny day. Observing the comings and goings of people all around. The flower cart on the corner, lent a lovely lilac scent to the air. The street preacher was shouting out his testimonials, trying to recruit believers to his cause. Further on as my pedaling took me, I saw a group of boys. They were pantomiming their favorite rockstars. Strumming the air for all they were worth and Jamming to the silent music in their heads. Down the block past the Bakery, smelling of cinnamon buns, was the museum.  My favorite place to stroll on a quiet day. The gregarious doorman always wished me "A fine  day, Madam!", as he ushered me into the foyer. He always wore that silly hat that makes me smile.   And, of course, he kept an eye on my red bicycle by the door. Making my way through the corridors, observing the sculptures, paintings and artifacts. Wondering at the archaeologists dinosaur finds, mounted above and behind the glass. Finally, on to see Pandora and her ill-fated decision to open the box.   Letting forth into the world all manner of toxicity.  And then, again, opening the box she set Hope free so we could cope in this danger-laden world.   Ending my museum tour, I contemplated my coming child and what he would find to make him cry or hope or love in this world, as I slowly pedaled through the spring infused day.
0
Feb 4, 2011
Feb 4, 2011 at 6:27 AM UTC
A Bicycle Journey
I pedaled for the adventure I pedaled for the thrill I pedaled my fat *** Up each and every hill From my house across the state From East Pa., west to New Jersey From mountains to quaint towns In sweat drenched shorts and yellow jersey People asked me why I dId it People asked me how People asked me what's in Jersey I smiled and said, "The WOW" Wow, it's what my family said Wow, is what I felt in my heart Wow, is what I still say today I'm glad I had the guts to start I pedaled for the adventure I pedaled for the thrill I pedaled my fat *** Up each and every hill
0
Nov 28, 2014
Nov 28, 2014 at 1:10 AM UTC
Pedal
This morning gray skies prevailed, an icy wind bit my face, cold tears streamed down as I pedaled along the deserted streets. The few drivers who did pass had no faces. Perhaps they were chilled, crying, felt a bit empty too.
0
Dec 16, 2013
Dec 16, 2013 at 10:29 AM UTC
The Lone Cyclist (Goes to Work)
Scarlet-haired maiden. Blood-soaked kitten. Our history once bled from my veins. May the ink from my pen be the last drop to leak from my stitches. I have cursed, I have blasphemed, and for what? You are as blind as ever as to what I am saying. It is as if those crows finally got around to doing my bidding. Scarlet-haired maiden, I am but a Jester to call you so. Calling you a maiden is a folly no less disastrous as calling a Siren a fish. Blood-soaked kitten, you dare call yourself such a familiar? Call your fat self a, "Little" in search of a father figure? Hark… You're but a beast rolling around in lovers' blood. Licking the sweet nectar off your soft and welcoming fur. Had I  not known better I'd reach down to the pits of hell just to pet you. I'd risk your curious claws getting at my loose thread. Sadly… I am but a Jester…I lead you back to our old tree. Our shrine where Gaia herself guarded our love. Where I gave you my heart in the form of an odd pedaled flower. To this day, I dare not to let a white Jasmine flower offend my nostrils. Its sour scent will begrudgingly throw me back to sweet—fleeting—moments. Moments where I had you play the "Loves-Me-Not" game whilst utterly ignoring the warning sign of the very NAME of said game. Moments where I was unaware of the very games you were playing.
0
Jul 26, 2017
Jul 26, 2017 at 8:14 AM UTC
Scarlet-haired Maiden
When I don't call for weeks, remind me of the nights I stayed up to tell you what love feels like. Remind me of the way the sun came through the tops of the trees and hit our twinned-skin as we pedaled through the park. Remind me of your terrible jokes (you won't have to). When I don't want to come home for Christmas, remind me of all the times you wanted to sit with me but would never say it. Of all the things you never understood about me that I'd never explain (even when you asked) Like how I cried when we left New York And why I hated Dad for so long. Remind me that we're friends. Remind me that through gritted teeth, clenched fists, and rolling eyes, I love you
0
Aug 15, 2014
Aug 15, 2014 at 1:40 PM UTC
Oh Brother
His bike was a twilight sky, his eyes were new leaves of spring as sunlight poured through If it weren't for us the path would've been vacant Hearty laughter & gentle giggles would be far from the sight The sea foam tide's beauty would be left unappreciated I would sit alone people watching, wondering who I identified as in this world as strangers strolled by He would lay in bed as "12:51" by The Strokes blared aloud But that's not how the cards played out I pedaled just behind you as you screamed your favorite lyrics Released unnecessary angst I suppose Then our two bikes inhabited a pebble painted beach We laid facing one another as summer's warm breeze kissed our faces You'd express with such desire how you saw the world how you saw the past how you longed for your future to be But all that mattered now were the two beach cruisers that somehow linked us together You sat atop your blue mountain I hugged my lilac meadow, with you in mind This euphoria was only transient but felt imperial to me
0
Jul 14, 2015
Jul 14, 2015 at 1:52 AM UTC
Coastal fidelity
Black carbon soot Yellow, blue flames Like a thief, the night took Our fair sunlight away Green etheral gases Red burning star Like a dog, the earth shook Spewing fire and tar Pink pedaled roses White fallen snow Like an axe, striking wood Our minds reel from the blow Lavendar mists Gray cloudy seas Like an angel, forsaken We’ll be brought to our knees.
0
May 27, 2015
May 27, 2015 at 11:59 AM UTC
Armageddon's rainbow
Remember that day we glided along rice fields, me and you lagging at the back, while the 12 of us pedaled bicycles? The clouds drooled down daylight, and I was feeling lonely and crap. You glanced back on the road and waited. "You alright?" your eyes said. And we chatted about our problems, time chopping away on an x-asis, as we passed fields, motorbikes, and watersheds. Those shared moments every day with you, our friends, and our Vietnamese teaching staff, it aligned my universe like a human astrolabe. I'm so glad our group traveled across the world, riding bikes and drinking beer unbounded by maps. It ***** being home now, far away. I miss you and I'm always bored.
0
Jan 11, 2015
Jan 11, 2015 at 12:55 AM UTC
Despondent Couch Memories
Take one step, and dance with me the solid square or circular ***** we flew into, a twisted and twirled beautiful night of romance. I hand you a twisted red velvet pedaled pool of symbolism you take my rose and return to me my criticism. And cynicism. My mission: critical. to every thought you whispered, and secretly hoped I'd hear. To all the fear, and folds of insecurity to which you adhere. To the ripping of the soul, when you get attached again, and pull away like a bandaid to the sadder days on Saturday I feared I'd never endure; and never quite did. to the she who so violently wraps me to her will, whenever she feels the need to want me again, but not really. To the taste of sour beer, I forced myself to drink until her name drifted away. to the goodbye stamped day when she packaged and shipped herself as far as she could get from me. I say farewell. I will not let what my heart wants be the leash by which she binds me. I will not let her tie and untie me, use me and toss me aside. I will learn to be outside myself, and outside my insignificant struggle. I will live amongst the world and dwell in love of mud covered creatures too ***** for you to play with. I will learn to stop saying I, because it is the least imporant word in my vocabulary. I will be presented with the apple of the world, and wont feel guilty for taking a taste; I hold it not a sin, due to my blatant loss of faith. I will stop using future tense, because things only happen in the present. And i will pray, metaphorically, that the last present she gives to me is her absence. Therefore, my mission is to say farewell, to her and all she brings. she attacked me with her smile, and that was the day she ruined me. farewell to my misguided little dream, I'll see you in hell, and oh yeah, happy 19th birthday to me.
0
Nov 15, 2013
Nov 15, 2013 at 5:24 AM UTC
19
Take one step, and dance with me the solid square or circular ***** we flew into, a twisted and twirled beautiful night of romance. I hand you a twisted red velvet pedaled pool of symbolism you take my rose and return to me my criticism. And cynicism. My mission: critical. to every thought you whispered, and secretly hoped I'd hear. To all the fear, and folds of insecurity to which you adhere. To the ripping of the soul, when you get attached again, and pull away like a bandaid to the sadder days on Saturday I feared I'd never endure; and never quite did. to the she who so violently wraps me to her will, whenever she feels the need to want me again, but not really. To the taste of sour beer, I forced myself to drink until her name drifted away. to the goodbye stamped day when she packaged and shipped herself as far as she could get from me. I say farewell. I will not let what my heart wants be the leash by which she binds me. I will not let her tie and untie me, use me and toss me aside. I will learn to be outside myself, and outside my insignificant struggle. I will live amongst the world and dwell in love of mud covered creatures too ***** for you to play with. I will learn to stop saying I, because it is the least imporant word in my vocabulary. I will be presented with the apple of the world, and wont feel guilty for taking a taste; I hold it not a sin, due to my blatant loss of faith. I will stop using future tense, because things only happen in the present. And i will pray, metaphorically, that the last present she gives to me is her absence. Therefore, my mission is to say farewell, to her and all she brings. she attacked me with her smile, and that was the day she ruined me. farewell to my misguided little dream, I'll see you in hell, and oh yeah, happy 19th birthday to me.
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28
It seems when I truly start to doubt There is a god, something whispers, no shouts At me to look to the miracle of nature to see Him It stared with a morning bike ride on a whim The fluffy white clouds that dotted the crystal blue sky Urged me to go for a Sunday morning bike ride It began in on an ordinary, familiar trail Water, glasses, computer, kit, and pull the bike off the rail As I pedaled along, I felt Him in the breeze I saw Him in each glimmering leaf suspended in a choir of trees The rustle of the foliage harmonized with the birds Creating a hymnal of music that filled my soul with each word It became abundantly clear that I was in God's community Nature spoke His words and delivered His truth to me
0
Jul 21, 2013
Jul 21, 2013 at 4:57 PM UTC
Doubts
I pedaled so hard to get to the place that I thought that I knew was right And when I get to where I have got I sometimes find out that the right that I thought was right..... was not So I picked myself up and I dusted me off although I'm a terrible sight I got on my horse (I hope no one's  watching) and galloped off into the night It isn't so bad to make a mistake just go to the end of the line a lesson you've learned just like everyone else and you start all over again starting over is not such a horrible thing sometimes it's all for the best your perspective is better, your mind is much clearer you've triumphed and won like the rest A good sense of humor and love in your heart are required for a life without woe you'll never be able to live without those and we all have to learn to let go
0
Feb 12, 2015
Feb 12, 2015 at 3:56 PM UTC
Trouble II
“She who has infused every minute of my day, Hastens through titillating my endorphins. Absconded hiding within myself, As blue crystals glaring teeter in the sea, As we sanction the reticence of ardor, While the sea eradicates its perennial effigy, As infinite cascades eradicate beneath us, As the water stride procures to the sandy shore, Where the waves shatter on unsettled rocks, As once again the clear light bursts as sun sets, Enmeshed in a fabric of palpable vibrant colors, Portrayed as that of a burlesque plumeria of infinites, The plumeria burst of aureoles immortal love, Unyielding its pedals as the devouring sea rotates, Will ephemeral demise procure in the deep blue sea? Over its blue pedaled face an astringent frown, We have embarked on a promenade of love my dear, I now stand before you no longer with emptiness, Only perennial affection that you are mine and I yours, In our Aureoles of Plumeria” By AG 03/10/2018 ©
0
Apr 10, 2018
Apr 10, 2018 at 6:52 PM UTC
“AUREOLES of PLUMERIA”
sunrise is lazy this morning as our awakening coincides with shivers running up and down cool spines on crusty concrete floors sheets and sweating water cups, that's what we ride for past waterfronts and freeways, fast as we can with sleep in our eyes paisley prints surround us as i lay and recount our night flashes of flash lights reveal strange structures inside of silos, climb on, climb on, exploring exploitation of the norm, art in ways art hasn't yet dreamed wild animal sounds bounce and billow around in old grain homes, while hands keep beats and hearts are pedaled in shadow onto walls fire breathing pipes belch into the calm, black night and attempts to climb towers are squandered by men holding flashlights and power so we fade into the nothingness and find other metal mountains to explore, garage doors open up to windmills and i find myself with knees as ****** and black as the night before us still, the animals cry out, but this time it's low and between rushed breaths that betray a sense of ecstasy only felt when it sneaks up from behind
0
Aug 21, 2013
Aug 21, 2013 at 11:38 AM UTC
city of night
I am the rain you are the flower. My sun, are the thoughts that gave you your power. You reached for the stars and pedaled much harder. Fixating on your own flower makes you lose sight, our origin same planet. Conditioned to only love your own kind. What ego, refocus on what matters. Cultivate integrity, flourish then gather. Our beliefs are not ours, they're captured in moments, in hours. Discipline and take control of your 24 hours. But who am I to tell you that’s foolish, that’s madder. My empathy sees you have to conform to the fish bowl that’s hard, can’t shatter. Just like the dreams, I dream they don’t break, gray matter. My vision expanded and shut out the chatter. Comprehend the same things that unite, segregate. Meditate, create space and gravitate. Coexistence is all that there is. I have sight I’m not blind to the prescribed consensus. Need I mention all these misconceptions? Illusions placed to distract and deceive. Dogma, a human construct a pattern we feed. These connections run deep, these roots are from Saturn. This gift of space and time gave us, one ocean, one planet. Treat it as such and radiate peace and love before… you all vanish. The greater good. My mission, my passion, my… mind over matter.
0
Aug 11, 2017
Aug 11, 2017 at 8:17 PM UTC
Higher Consciousness
Brown ponytail: as long as she’s been alive, sandy like hot straw as she pedaled that baby blue bike. In that moment, when she looked the other way, she lost the ability to say, "Only one more mile." Because she was just a pile Of cherry red mush.
0
Feb 7, 2013
Feb 7, 2013 at 3:18 PM UTC
Brown Ponytail
Found my slice of paradise on the southern coast today. Although I felt ill prepared at first: cycling in my climbing shoes (the only shoes I found tossed in my car), no helmet, and nothing but a large body of salt water at the end of the trail to quench my thirst for refreshment, perhaps what I was most unprepared for was this small patch of sand I stumbled across at the edge of the lagoon, much unlike the pristine white sandy beaches with ******** clad women that embody San Diego County, this slice of shoreline is squeezed by a motel parking lot to the north and tightly packed condos to the south and seems rugged and uncombed, like an abandoned lot the city had intended to develop before the recession but instead left it to sit, collecting seaweed and mangy seagulls. Slightly windy, home to an unwelcoming rip current, and the view of the freeway not far behind me, this was paradise. My unkempt paradise. Although a few scattered families littered the sand, who somehow felt like intruders to a secret jewel I had just discovered, I still felt that this was my new patch of sanity. I felt a strong urge to keep it a protected secret matched with a sense of pride in finding it and the desire to share this hidden sense of serenity with all my friends on the central coast; bring them here to christen it with the free-spirited energy I had unwillingly left behind. But instead I left that decision for another day, rolled out my yoga mat I had haphazardly strapped to my back, and started my Vinyasa flow with a view of the Pacific Ocean; a sputtering plane engine was my mental Sanskrit, the tide my metronome for breath. Even the stares of my fellow beach-dwellers wouldn’t deter me from this spot. I had left my mark near the lifeguard tower, a skinny path from my tires and a rectangular imprint of my mat that said: I'll be back. Perhaps what sealed the deal was the sign I passed as I pedaled away: Bicycle Friendly Community. Yep, maybe this could be a home away from SLO.
0
Nov 10, 2011
Nov 10, 2011 at 2:05 AM UTC
Paradise [Found]
Found my slice of paradise on the southern coast today. Although I felt ill prepared at first: cycling in my climbing shoes (the only shoes I found tossed in my car), no helmet, and nothing but a large body of salt water at the end of the trail to quench my thirst for refreshment, perhaps what I was most unprepared for was this small patch of sand I stumbled across at the edge of the lagoon, much unlike the pristine white sandy beaches with ******** clad women that embody San Diego County, this slice of shoreline is squeezed by a motel parking lot to the north and tightly packed condos to the south and seems rugged and uncombed, like an abandoned lot the city had intended to develop before the recession but instead left it to sit, collecting seaweed and mangy seagulls. Slightly windy, home to an unwelcoming rip current, and the view of the freeway not far behind me, this was paradise. My unkempt paradise. Although a few scattered families littered the sand, who somehow felt like intruders to a secret jewel I had just discovered, I still felt that this was my new patch of sanity. I felt a strong urge to keep it a protected secret matched with a sense of pride in finding it and the desire to share this hidden sense of serenity with all my friends on the central coast; bring them here to christen it with the free-spirited energy I had unwillingly left behind. But instead I left that decision for another day, rolled out my yoga mat I had haphazardly strapped to my back, and started my Vinyasa flow with a view of the Pacific Ocean; a sputtering plane engine was my mental Sanskrit, the tide my metronome for breath. Even the stares of my fellow beach-dwellers wouldn’t deter me from this spot. I had left my mark near the lifeguard tower, a skinny path from my tires and a rectangular imprint of my mat that said: I'll be back. Perhaps what sealed the deal was the sign I passed as I pedaled away: Bicycle Friendly Community. Yep, maybe this could be a home away from SLO.
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8
Marry me with thoughts that never were complete. Kissing with your music I listen in defeat. Blinded with innuendos but cowering at the sight. Trembling in the whisper of your breath so cool at night. Cradle me in confusion, while you test the water's feel. Resting on the floorboards of your broken-pedaled heal. Caress me in affection while you smile and flip a coin. Paint me in your glances with poignancies conjoined. Bury me in final thought, a tux, or even tears. But bury me nonetheless with a decision--decide, my dear.
0
Jul 2, 2014
Jul 2, 2014 at 2:50 PM UTC
Poignancies Conjoined
I jumped on my bike as fast as I could but not fast enough, it did me no good the bully kid was big and mean and acted very tough laughing all the while he quickly knocked me on my duff Rubbing grass in my mouth, slapping me in the face him laughing at me, me feeling so disgraced he punched me so hard then left me crying on the ground I slowly stood up, was there anyone else around? I gathered up my books and slowly climbed on my bike and pedaled straight home mustering all of my might "What happened to you, son?" Mom was the first to see I cried as I replied "I got beat by a bully!" "I'm so sorry for you son, I'm so sad that you were harmed" just then my dad walked in and immediately looked alarmed Dad quickly asked me "Son, did you give him back the same?" I sheepishly said "no" re-experiencing the shame. My dad just stared awhile then said "I don't like what you're becoming. Next time you better fight, give the bully what he's got coming! First you punch him in the stomach then you hit him in the face He won't hurt you any more, when you put him in his place!" I slowly nodded as he left, then Mom quickly gave my cheek a kiss "I'm so proud of you son for not fighting him with your fist The Lord's servant doesn't need to fight but should be gentle instead" "Yes ma'am" I quickly said as conflicting counsel twirled round my head The next 5 years at school when tensions flared I was a gentle talker as a bully approached my sophomore year I threw him against his locker! Thank you Mom and Dad!
0
Oct 19, 2019
Oct 19, 2019 at 3:13 PM UTC
Close Encounters of the Bully Kind
I jumped on my bike as fast as I could but not fast enough, it did me no good the bully kid was big and mean and acted very tough laughing all the while he quickly knocked me on my duff Rubbing grass in my mouth, slapping me in the face him laughing at me, me feeling so disgraced he punched me so hard then left me crying on the ground I slowly stood up, was there anyone else around? I gathered up my books and slowly climbed on my bike and pedaled straight home mustering all of my might "What happened to you, son?" Mom was the first to see I cried as I replied "I got beat by a bully!" "I'm so sorry for you son, I'm so sad that you were harmed" just then my dad walked in and immediately looked alarmed Dad quickly asked me "Son, did you give him back the same?" I sheepishly said "no" re-experiencing the shame. My dad just stared awhile then said "I don't like what you're becoming. Next time you better fight, give the bully what he's got coming! First you punch him in the stomach then you hit him in the face He won't hurt you any more, when you put him in his place!" I slowly nodded as he left, then Mom quickly gave my cheek a kiss "I'm so proud of you son for not fighting him with your fist The Lord's servant doesn't need to fight but should be gentle instead" "Yes ma'am" I quickly said as conflicting counsel twirled round my head The next 5 years at school when tensions flared I was a gentle talker as a bully approached my sophomore year I threw him against his locker! Thank you Mom and Dad!
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27
share with me the highlights of your day and if you choose not to say much I will listen anyway. Well I know that we all need some time alone time to simmer, time to think and time to not pick up the phone and I need time to trust in what I feel am I just thinking there's a distance or is it something that is real? It's hard to tell, just now, which is the case I am not much for deciphering your moods, it's not my place. A vacant beach and somewhere a dog's bark watched a full moon light the ocean and the beach as it grew dark. Pedaled past two lovers on a blanket in the sand it's been so long that I've forgotten the very memory of your hand. Share with me of the doldrums of your day but if you choose not to say much I will listen anyway. or just walk with me in silence, hold my hand and if you're wanting not to touch me I'll begin to understand
0
Feb 26, 2014
Feb 26, 2014 at 5:38 PM UTC
begin to understand
I knew It was coming the moment I opened the door. The sky warned me. A distant, dull voice whispered, "You can't beat It." The sweetest sadness slowly ****** each syllable. I accepted the challenge and began to pedal. For a while, I pedaled without disturbance, except for a distant, dull sky sadly trailing behind. Watching. Waiting. Knowing. Then It came. It took its time. It was not the one who needed to hurry. I pedaled on and felt It kiss the tip of my forehead, then lick the side of my nose, leaving me cold. I began to count the touches; one, two -pedal, pedal, pedal, pedal - three - pedal, pedal, pedal - four - pedal - five - pedal, pedal - six -pedal - seven - pedal - eight, nine, ten... And I’m drenched.
0
Jan 26, 2024
Jan 26, 2024 at 10:58 PM UTC
The Second Confession
I remember lurching my little body to the edge of the twin bed just in time to ***** on the floor. I remember sharing a room with my sister. I remember the feeling of immense pride as I pedaled by Little Mermaid bike across the lawn - finally without training wheels. I remember my new dog getting sprayed by a skunk before my sixth birthday party. I remember my dad putting her in a plastic tub full of tomato juice in hopes of washing away the putrid odor. I remember having tons of friends to invite to birthday parties. I remember not needing validation from people in order to be happy. I remember laying in the backseat of the car as the streetlights flew by. I remember when my sister threw a *** of bubblegum in my hair. I remember washing the gum out with peanut butter. I remember chunky copper highlights in my black hair. I remember the first big fight. I remember needing to rush my sister out into the rain to avoid all of the yelling. I remember understanding that separating was the best thing for everybody. I remember kissing in lemonade stands. I remember dead-end streets and riding my bike down them. I remember the walk to my elementary school. I remember simpler times.
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Jan 28, 2015
Jan 28, 2015 at 1:06 AM UTC
I remember (inspired by Joe Brainard's I REMEMBER)