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"pinings" poems
Acerbic antagonist alliterates agonizing accusations, blasting ******* backbiter butting beautiful bombastic brainy blond bomb. Cumulative cranial casualties cease caveman's cognitive coherence. Doom digger derides Daddy's dangling dire dreary **** Eclectic esoteric eccentric egotistical estranger; Forthcoming fathoms fetch faithless fleeting father. God given goblins gather gossamer ganglions; Hell's hairy harlot harpies hover heeding Hyperion. Ignatius imbibes irrevocably insisting, "Jesus juggles justice's joy jarring jams." Kindness kindles Kilimanjaro; Malicious mountains melt, Mmm, morning marjoram. Nothing negates Neanderthal ninnying. Overt obsessions obfuscate original object of purest passions, paltry past pinings, quickly quieted, quelled, resisted, relinquished, readily, ruefully, roundly saturated, suffocated; surreptitiously silenced, terribly torturing the thrashed tamed tormentor: Ugly, ungrateful, unapologetic, Vanity, woefully wallowing, wailing, "Where's Xanadu's zeitgeist!?"
0
Jan 15, 2012
Jan 15, 2012 at 12:09 AM UTC
I hate it when you alliterate
*you nuzzled your head unto the shoulder of my soul tears streamed into my heart steamy moments of resolution lingering breaths of quivering whispers stolen moments of life's endurance wafting through athanasia's elusion'd moondust dreams of uninvited icy cloudbursts plunging wing'd poetry into posterity remembering future's sacred pinings like fire gasping under waterfall's torrents i wished upon a snowflake before it took flight appease this illusion yet one more night*
0
Dec 28, 2013
Dec 28, 2013 at 12:40 PM UTC
Ice Cream Clouds
it’s windy i think, at least the windows are rattling. the men in hard hats, yellow motes off in the distance and their jackets the colour of poison, they scale the façade of the contralateral building. they’re speaking, yelling, probably catcalling, singing their ugly songs on cherry pickers like some crowned nest of wagtails. it’s early i think, though the lights are always on. they’re fluorescent, staining, unflattering colouration, rinse your skin to poverty, to jaundice. i’m here because of pills i’m here because school is out, i’m here because i’m tired and i’m here because of you. flowers sit at the side, already dry upon purchase. gifted awkwardly; do we give flowers to a man? a boy in sheets, foolish drunkard, balloons with helium to lift my spirits. its lonely i think, though it’s filled with people. wristcutter, lupus, chemo all thrown into one. we’re what’s left post-production, left to sit in an outlet store; buy me for half-price or else half an hour of company. i’m the young one, nurses scan me with motherly eyes, the radiator warmth, their rounded bosoms, ‘you remind me of someone’. at twelve to three, she washes me, asks me to lift my ***** so she can get at the two-day grime of indolence. it’s sad here i think, at least the television is boring. daytime ghosts and broken families make my bedsheets gain weight; even the balloon sags in heavy misery, nothing is mine. sleep comes in fits and starts in blankness. it ends with my questioning of where the dream began and where hope had perished. you haven’t come, i knew that you wouldn't. it’s hard to blame you, what with my post-use pinings long after you’d given up and the way i act familiar after treating you like a stranger. i long to leave here, so much the windows are rattling. i’m here because i am i’m here because of my job, i’m here because i’m tired i’m tired because of you.
0
Oct 18, 2013
Oct 18, 2013 at 11:09 AM UTC
My Cure
it’s windy i think, at least the windows are rattling. the men in hard hats, yellow motes off in the distance and their jackets the colour of poison, they scale the façade of the contralateral building. they’re speaking, yelling, probably catcalling, singing their ugly songs on cherry pickers like some crowned nest of wagtails. it’s early i think, though the lights are always on. they’re fluorescent, staining, unflattering colouration, rinse your skin to poverty, to jaundice. i’m here because of pills i’m here because school is out, i’m here because i’m tired and i’m here because of you. flowers sit at the side, already dry upon purchase. gifted awkwardly; do we give flowers to a man? a boy in sheets, foolish drunkard, balloons with helium to lift my spirits. its lonely i think, though it’s filled with people. wristcutter, lupus, chemo all thrown into one. we’re what’s left post-production, left to sit in an outlet store; buy me for half-price or else half an hour of company. i’m the young one, nurses scan me with motherly eyes, the radiator warmth, their rounded bosoms, ‘you remind me of someone’. at twelve to three, she washes me, asks me to lift my ***** so she can get at the two-day grime of indolence. it’s sad here i think, at least the television is boring. daytime ghosts and broken families make my bedsheets gain weight; even the balloon sags in heavy misery, nothing is mine. sleep comes in fits and starts in blankness. it ends with my questioning of where the dream began and where hope had perished. you haven’t come, i knew that you wouldn't. it’s hard to blame you, what with my post-use pinings long after you’d given up and the way i act familiar after treating you like a stranger. i long to leave here, so much the windows are rattling. i’m here because i am i’m here because of my job, i’m here because i’m tired i’m tired because of you.
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I don’t want to whisper anymore, nor wish for stolen glances to be my messenger, odd hours and pillow talks on different beds miles away have now become my misery. The faucet of excuses to meet you in person and pet my pinings to sleep has run itself dry. I wish to say it aloud for your heart to hear and the universe to register. I love you. I love you, and I am left with no will, nor patience to not be with you. To be around you is no longer flattering, for in the moon and musk I see distances and measures that pull at the chords of my longing and render me a sweet wailing in its own wake. I want to come home now, make my bed with you keep the phone aside and hold you. I want my emptiness filled with your touch and find my closure   in the heaves of your breathing. Take me in and leave me in no doubt, for I would live a moment with you than a lifetime without.
0
Apr 13, 2021
Apr 13, 2021 at 8:00 AM UTC
I want to come home
Red streaks the latest paper The blood of martyrs splattered on walls For their faith. For the whole world to see. Red blotches a Gentile face He wakes up to see Jesus Coming with healing bright Shingles, white patches hideous bumps, flaky scabs. They vanish at His faintest whisper. He runs into Samaritan darkness Screaming, Your name reverberating. Red is what they ate in Eden, too. Red is being torn from Your side By smooth connivance with Reptilian deceit. Red is how the world looks To lovely young eyes Enamored by it for the first time. Red is their world And You turn pale In their sight. Red is what I feel When I learn Your anointing on my throat lies–almost forgotten Preciously hidden Tucked behind the veneer Of daily pinings for applause From dim, glassy faces Made red by stage lighting. Red is the color of my cheeks When I realize You love me despite. Red is Your sacrifice. Red is Your atonement. Red is my ransom. …You are everywhere.
0
Nov 1, 2016
Nov 1, 2016 at 7:00 AM UTC
"RED"
I find it startling How much I hold onto The poem you wrote for me. A few typed words, now on a tattered sheet of paper (isn’t that just how we are— tattered?). Maybe it’s because all you feed me now is a few cold looks, a half dozen half-smiles. But in this flimsy, poetic dénouement, I have tangible words & evidence of your unexpressed perception. I hold onto your poem (my poem) And won’t (can’t) let you go. I pray that the pencil smudges from your first draft to me still linger on your fingertips. May they cause you to think of me and write me again. Whispered tremors on wavering pages. I pray that I’m not the only one who loves to long for what we could have been; the scent of your skin on mine. May those pinings sing you a lullaby as your window lets in that cold, cold draft. Eyelids heavy and body aching. I pray You write.
0
Apr 22, 2011
Apr 22, 2011 at 3:07 PM UTC
a poem to be sent in the mail.
You do you and I’ll do me; but if you do me I’ll do you one better. I’ll set you free or buy you a sweater or some other **** I think you’d like. Maybe I’ll just keep sitting here on this oversized armchair next to Jer, and continue wondering what you are up to, what you are thinking, how many blinks you are blinking, how often your neurons are linking. I’m thinking, and I’m thinking, but still the numbers don't add up. I'm sinking and shrinking and I’m getting real fed up with feeding the schlupp inside my chest with pinings for you; for the way you look in my favorite dress, for the way you find beauty in every mess, for the way you should be here and not there, or I the reverse, but you’re there and I’m here and it feels like I’m cursed, like I'm Jesus Christ left in the manger to die of thirst and exposure. Im a twenty-year-dead motor struggling to turn over, or maybe just a dude with a storm in his head that’s getting steadily older and rapidly sober, who's missing a shoulder to press against, and lacking defense against A soul that grows perpetually colder.
0
Jun 22, 2014
Jun 22, 2014 at 3:21 PM UTC
--Hunger Pains--
pointless re-pinings exacerbate my sorrow for paradise lost
0
Mar 12, 2012
Mar 12, 2012 at 4:37 PM UTC
grieving [one stroke]
Her sweetness-laden face, beckoned with a grace, A wishful ray of hopes, inconspicuously morose. He read it with an ease, The Pinings cached in crease, Swaying like a tremor, Agog for a breather. Whilst unfurling the crease, He feared his irrational leash, Careened before her eyes, And pulled his hands back inside. He thought he had better, Leave intact the wrapper, For a sudden quietude hurts more, Than a phlegmatic uproar.
0
Apr 8, 2015
Apr 8, 2015 at 10:56 AM UTC
Unrequited pinnings