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"plugging" poems
**** me I don't trust me maybe I'm rusty shes just ***** ***** hate to look you in the shoes there lovely lackin alternatives the shoes it be rub me filth to the core not unseen unteen times past I felt bad plugging and running not scared of **** its ******* is ****** a life oh what seems to be life so This ain't livin' Marvin Gaye given insight my sight unseen unto the looking glass glean maybe better off taken time to see sorry not me that whole waiting scene I plead to gods on high be free my soul tattered torn on the throne all this time wasted holding on to the goal just to throw oh a life oh what seems to be life so This ain't livin' Marvin Gaye given cowardice a man who never felt fear resin to live in this hell world imprisoned here ******** leaders wish I had time in a pile of ***** alone in the world, fillin in for atlas, who me? nah I'm fine.
0
Jan 24, 2013
Jan 24, 2013 at 11:01 PM UTC
**** me
my pianos a deaf mute doesn't care when I smash the keys I tell it anyways, listen here, you miracle, you conversation piece, I'm going to play you without plugging you in because 1) who makes electronic pianos and 2) I can hear the sounds in my head, just like old times old times old times I map out a Beatles song I hate because I really just want you to hold my hand I never take my foot off the soft pedal because it should always be gentle and I should always be gentle to you and God knows you're the only one listening so listen here and listen close i know im not really alone because we are attached by the red string of fate or friendship or car crash and I know this because you're the only one I can say these things to without getting myself committed if you want me I'll be in the bar buying you drinks you'll never be thirsty enough to let touch your tongue and what is all of this shaking for who first felt this feeling and said **** I'm in love or **** I Might be dying because my chest kind of feels like the monkey bars after rain we all fall off of because we're too ******* stubborn to wait a while what is it about instant gratification that has everyone around me filling up their gas tanks because "it's not gonna get this low again for a long time" and how I wish I could say the same for myself or how I wish I could say the same for you I don't know if this poem is a piano or if this poem is you or if this poem is drunk and wanting to call someone who will pick up or listen or want to But I once said to someone "I think I really need to talk about this" and I shouldn't have been surprised when I was handed a hotline but maybe you have always been answering the phone "tell me where it hurts, and then tell me again"
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Feb 6, 2015
Feb 6, 2015 at 11:50 PM UTC
tell me where it hurts
my pianos a deaf mute doesn't care when I smash the keys I tell it anyways, listen here, you miracle, you conversation piece, I'm going to play you without plugging you in because 1) who makes electronic pianos and 2) I can hear the sounds in my head, just like old times old times old times I map out a Beatles song I hate because I really just want you to hold my hand I never take my foot off the soft pedal because it should always be gentle and I should always be gentle to you and God knows you're the only one listening so listen here and listen close i know im not really alone because we are attached by the red string of fate or friendship or car crash and I know this because you're the only one I can say these things to without getting myself committed if you want me I'll be in the bar buying you drinks you'll never be thirsty enough to let touch your tongue and what is all of this shaking for who first felt this feeling and said **** I'm in love or **** I Might be dying because my chest kind of feels like the monkey bars after rain we all fall off of because we're too ******* stubborn to wait a while what is it about instant gratification that has everyone around me filling up their gas tanks because "it's not gonna get this low again for a long time" and how I wish I could say the same for myself or how I wish I could say the same for you I don't know if this poem is a piano or if this poem is you or if this poem is drunk and wanting to call someone who will pick up or listen or want to But I once said to someone "I think I really need to talk about this" and I shouldn't have been surprised when I was handed a hotline but maybe you have always been answering the phone "tell me where it hurts, and then tell me again"
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13
Shimmy wild Shake down - This is some Railroading Existential Trolling **** I’m plugging in- A glaring glitch In your singular Reality. You’re completely Right If you think I’m Taking advantage of the fact That you Think We’re all just Programmed players In your Sacred Existence. My iridescent snicker Isn’t what’s up for debate Buddy - I know there’s a coyote Lurking about Somewhere And I’m gonna let that Son of a ***** Chuckle & buckle Up Until I lose it In the Trippiest corners Of your mind; Whistling like Whispers Where words Sound like Wonders Bathed in Confusion At its best. I’m gonna make you Wonder If you’ve ever Waken up At all. -- Gear hopping Daily From your Native system To “What the hell’s Even Going on anymore?” Don’t worry Though Darling. I only switched The blues And the greens. You’re only sleeping If you believe You are.
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Nov 9, 2011
Nov 9, 2011 at 12:26 AM UTC
Playtime
i kind of just wish that i could be alive somewhere else in another time zone i dunno why the tears come to my eyes or why i have to fake it day after day to win some sort of fake prize that fails to materialize doesn't even bring me to where i need to be it's my demise i grasp and cannot feel cannot understand what it is that it is real i just want to feel like i used to feel when i was a kid and happiness was real content knowing that i'd go to heaven and i have nothing to worry about now all i have are my dreams and aspirations friends and family keep me healthy active alive but without them i don't think i'd keep plugging in don't think i'd like to keep living i'd want to have some other sort of special feeling i feel like depression is back rearing its head in my face i'm on the couch it's dark but through the window things are looking out looking in showing me that i'm hallucinating and contemplating about killing myself i'll never do it but i just want to live i just to overcome i want to be successful this is the hardest struggle i've ever been in i want peace but every time i get it it goes away i don't want to feel this way cigarette after cigarette looking off in the distance my mind blown smoke so much **** to ease the pain but it just goes away it fukin goes away :( :( and **** everybody else who didn't want to hang out with me my friends left me and i become so sad depression is something i've had my whole life i just now realized this tonight
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Jan 13, 2014
Jan 13, 2014 at 4:26 AM UTC
Tonight's Realization
i kind of just wish that i could be alive somewhere else in another time zone i dunno why the tears come to my eyes or why i have to fake it day after day to win some sort of fake prize that fails to materialize doesn't even bring me to where i need to be it's my demise i grasp and cannot feel cannot understand what it is that it is real i just want to feel like i used to feel when i was a kid and happiness was real content knowing that i'd go to heaven and i have nothing to worry about now all i have are my dreams and aspirations friends and family keep me healthy active alive but without them i don't think i'd keep plugging in don't think i'd like to keep living i'd want to have some other sort of special feeling i feel like depression is back rearing its head in my face i'm on the couch it's dark but through the window things are looking out looking in showing me that i'm hallucinating and contemplating about killing myself i'll never do it but i just want to live i just to overcome i want to be successful this is the hardest struggle i've ever been in i want peace but every time i get it it goes away i don't want to feel this way cigarette after cigarette looking off in the distance my mind blown smoke so much **** to ease the pain but it just goes away it fukin goes away :( :( and **** everybody else who didn't want to hang out with me my friends left me and i become so sad depression is something i've had my whole life i just now realized this tonight
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73
I knew all day that you didn’t want me. The sirens rang, red flag tear ducts, and I was just waiting for the bomb to drop. I felt it, in my gut as they say, like a paperweight, and choked on all the tears before I even knew they were coming. Here’s the thing— you asked me. The rest spoke for itself. The dress, the earrings, the phone call, the couch, your gym shorts, glasses, and answering machine. But we went to dinner, and you called me beautiful. You threw croutons over the table, made me laugh, let me hold your hand while they brought my iced tea. I even found myself picturing you next to me. I spread my palms, open, but I didn’t ask for a thing. Yet, you kept defending yourself, explaining everything, and I just wanted you to pay for the two of us to eat. Your face is all that I see. Then why, why do I find myself time after time again in these situations where I keep plugging myself into equations that obviously aren’t meant to be? You’re so sweet. But if you searched through the crowd, I’m not sure you’d want to find me. I should have left you on the couch. Honestly, I knew all day that you didn’t want me. But I kissed you a million little times, let your tongue explore my silent confessions, willed you to find yourself through the spaces of my mouth. I should have just left you on the couch.
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Sep 14, 2014
Sep 14, 2014 at 1:46 PM UTC
I Can't Believe You Let Me Down
Custard Tarts A mouthful of sweetness yellow; crust; chewed slowly, savoring and the mind goes back along olfactory pathways etched long ago back to turbulent times of teenage years and custard tarts, with cinnamon sprinkles your Dad brought home for Saturday lunch after working, trying to keep a bankrupt business afloat plugging the holes of ineptitude as the ship sank lower week by week. A sliver was handed out with the coffee devoured by all at the table not much else to remember except the coldness, the distant demeanor a start contrast to the warmth of the pies made with love at the bakers custard tarts, now and then sweet! Malcolm Davidson December 18, 2013
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Dec 22, 2013
Dec 22, 2013 at 4:37 PM UTC
Custard Tarts
Pins upon my pillow puncturing my brain Sprinkling out my dreams like sleeping in the rain Flowing out my nightmares Rivers run in my bed Swimming in my dreaming Plugging holes in my head My mattress is floating My soul is sinking slow Down the river drowning and in my dreams, I row…row… row…
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Nov 11, 2021
Nov 11, 2021 at 6:37 AM UTC
Pins upon my pillow
do you really think love is easy? that it takes no effort to keep love to be love. love is arguing over something small then feeling **** about, wishing you had better control over your tongue, and saying sorry. ‘s not about who’s right, who’s wrong ‘s about making up, ‘s about taking the ripped out invisible chord and plugging it back into each other. reconnecting the love chord – not into the brain. that day she said, “get out! i never want to see you again.” he realised he’d’ ****** up big time for the last time. that one more with the boys, meant the last one with her. all she wanted was a window seat, but he gave her the aisle, always the aisle, the wrong aisle. oh well. thing is, you get another chance – at love that is. best not look for it, clutch for it, search for it, otherwise all you’ll find is desperation. can’t love desperation. you won’t even make the plane if you fall for desperation. love is many things, but what it’s not, is easy. whomever thinks it’s easy has never found love. they’ve found easy.
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Mar 20, 2015
Mar 20, 2015 at 3:03 PM UTC
love ain't easy
Finding peace in this life Takes effort and strain Feelings of hopelessness Lead to the place That it is kept In a clearing, beneath the sky Far away from the city The gravestones The gravel’s edge Left behind And the sun warms your skin As the rain clouds gather Dust swirling in anticipation Plugging your nose Despite the lovely smell Your lungs deflate Reconciled That is peace
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Apr 18, 2010
Apr 18, 2010 at 1:57 PM UTC
Plug Nose
Here you are again, sitting on your bed, but it seems this time I see the sea running down your face coming from the holes where the universe lies, and the galaxies sit. Words fly across the room, self destructing. Explosions like super novas, caused by accumulated energy and increasing gravitational pressure. You collapse. With nothing but a light that outshines any star in your wake.  Pause.  Take a deep breath. Breathe in all the stardust that surround you. Stop.  Don't even think that you're lesser than these galaxies, for you create them by merely smiling.  Go.  Crank up that hyperdrive, and blast off to another solar system, learn new things, teach yourself to once again fall in love, like learning to ride a bike, but always remember the constellations that are burned into your eye lids. Reminding you not to pass through astroid fields. Remember this, when you feel like your oxygen is running low don't hesitate in plugging your tubes into my lungs, and I will breathe into you all the reasons why I love you. Know this, that your mistakes are like the stars that glimmer at night, they may seem like they're just floating there constantly , but know this, that just like these star, they are nothing but phantom lights,  They no longer exist. But don't compare me to any of them, for I am like the moon. You may see me clearly at night But I am not a phantom light, I am always here, like the moon in early hours of the morning.  baby,  As much as I like you learning and experiencing new things Don't forget that I am back here on earth,  I wanna let you know that,  I miss you. I miss your long black hair, and how it stretches like the vastness of space. Your face that shines like the morning sun. I will be here,   stirring your favorite cup of hot cosmos, with a few pieces of comets because I know you don't like it too hot.  Waiting to hear your stories of adventure, and wanting to go back to them. It may take lightyears for you to come back, but I will be patient. I will be here,  Waiting for your arrival. Signed,  Houston.
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May 31, 2015
May 31, 2015 at 11:24 PM UTC
Dear Astronaut
Here you are again, sitting on your bed, but it seems this time I see the sea running down your face coming from the holes where the universe lies, and the galaxies sit. Words fly across the room, self destructing. Explosions like super novas, caused by accumulated energy and increasing gravitational pressure. You collapse. With nothing but a light that outshines any star in your wake.  Pause.  Take a deep breath. Breathe in all the stardust that surround you. Stop.  Don't even think that you're lesser than these galaxies, for you create them by merely smiling.  Go.  Crank up that hyperdrive, and blast off to another solar system, learn new things, teach yourself to once again fall in love, like learning to ride a bike, but always remember the constellations that are burned into your eye lids. Reminding you not to pass through astroid fields. Remember this, when you feel like your oxygen is running low don't hesitate in plugging your tubes into my lungs, and I will breathe into you all the reasons why I love you. Know this, that your mistakes are like the stars that glimmer at night, they may seem like they're just floating there constantly , but know this, that just like these star, they are nothing but phantom lights,  They no longer exist. But don't compare me to any of them, for I am like the moon. You may see me clearly at night But I am not a phantom light, I am always here, like the moon in early hours of the morning.  baby,  As much as I like you learning and experiencing new things Don't forget that I am back here on earth,  I wanna let you know that,  I miss you. I miss your long black hair, and how it stretches like the vastness of space. Your face that shines like the morning sun. I will be here,   stirring your favorite cup of hot cosmos, with a few pieces of comets because I know you don't like it too hot.  Waiting to hear your stories of adventure, and wanting to go back to them. It may take lightyears for you to come back, but I will be patient. I will be here,  Waiting for your arrival. Signed,  Houston.
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51
next to prime rib is a miniature fir or bush lumberjacked at the trunk you press like a bobblehead plugging nostrils with green steam and shake and nobody wants to spitspoil red meat and everyone agrees so you collect veggie trees arrange them in a forest and reenact little red riding hood with a cherry tomato you bite - you ******* werewolf vampire where were you when the fetus crowned like a tulip pistil harnesses by an umbilical noose and the nurse paused and said she's dead and cried and she cried too while I waited with her father her mother and mine and three friends and nine months of this for that you ******* ****** not even john hancock can sign a birth certificate and a death certificate in a nightmare let alone in one night
0
Oct 4, 2010
Oct 4, 2010 at 9:13 PM UTC
A Little Dead
Cheers to sharing bottles of wine, fifths of whiskey, and beers by the stein To plugging yourself into that amplifier and playing your song with the volume higher Others join, you're a band pumping great sound we'll have what we're having, 'nother round! Honest fellowship is here Spirits rise with bubbles in the beer Cares are gone as soon as you begin to feel the warmth start from within
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May 21, 2015
May 21, 2015 at 12:30 PM UTC
Cheers
i am underwater plugging multiple leaks in this vessel we built together. but i’m not wet, i’m dry- the driest shipwreck you ever saw, deep down… the moon looks unnatural in a hot sky and rising and sinking seem to reach the same                                                        conclusion.
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Jul 21, 2019
Jul 21, 2019 at 4:08 PM UTC
Evolving Doors
It's like ****** each word said Injected into my ear Your lips are the needle. I get chills, I know it's wrong So wrong. I try to avoid it by plugging my ears The urge is too strong to listen, listen, listen The "Did you hear about"s and The "I can't believe they"s Have me crawling back for more I'm hooked on those juicy lies It's like a cigarette. I breath in the information Luckily, it doesn't blacken my lungs. My soul, however cannot say the same. I release the built up smoke So everyone else can share in my knowledge Some unwilling, Others take a deep breath in, Blackening their soul with Second-hand gossip It's like a joint A community drug You can't keep it all to yourself Let's pass it around the circle, And make sure everyone gets a nice long drag It makes serious matters casual. You regret. It's alcohol I don't know what I'm saying And my mind blurs with fuzzy lines Between right and wrong. I pick up my keys and Drive my self righteous car. I didn't see the stop sign. I didn't see the warnings. Now I've affected more than myself As I stop too late. I hurt a life, Multiple lives. Another victim taken. Another life ruined. Another gossip overdose.
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Jun 19, 2013
Jun 19, 2013 at 6:51 PM UTC
Gossip Addict
I have sons spread around the world birthed by different girls foundation built in my arms. recognition of the need of men of the Love of a woman, for a woman to guide his heart, to open his eyes to his start. she whispered, the power of the son. he is of she, penetrates the sea and births anew. she the prototype, the official original, the womb. woman, her scent alarms the masses. and we scream now. we scream and we cry we live in angst in our homes, our men are concerned. yet our pheromones sense things, weather and other perturbations. mothers voice in the heart of her children, daughters tend to stay closer to home. women, we hear the call! as we quiet our longing drawl, the pull we feel to somewhere, we know not of a place beyond the beauty of our eyes, we know, we remember, our requirements as a creator. ours, the power of the reflection of the full moon, the trees dance in the monthly celebration, though in the desert, I've seen a few who, when the moon is too full, too reflective of its presence, they fold to hide from the light. knowing whats best for themselves, I trust. I just can't help but to choose to stand with Her. stand in Her light, my mouth opens for the gift. the thirst quenched. head tilted back, think of the men of the world. if I could just hug them. as Ms Badu claims I bet you LOVE can make it better … I bet too. I bet I can heal you. open your heart, peal the bitter, drain the water, raise the alter. praise the lover, embrace as a Mother. pour into the builder, the sender. release his true endeavors. release the tension in his body, helping him to know mind over matter. plugging him into the true creative power of his *** his gift of Love, of his body penetrating another. what his self is communicating, what his seed is sprouting. he needs our healing. his heart is calling, and he's stomping around like a little boy! I have sons, they stomp around… they need mommys love, mommys extra love. she, calls us to her sons. new normals, open our hearts health always to follow.
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Jul 31, 2015
Jul 31, 2015 at 4:12 AM UTC
her sons
I have sons spread around the world birthed by different girls foundation built in my arms. recognition of the need of men of the Love of a woman, for a woman to guide his heart, to open his eyes to his start. she whispered, the power of the son. he is of she, penetrates the sea and births anew. she the prototype, the official original, the womb. woman, her scent alarms the masses. and we scream now. we scream and we cry we live in angst in our homes, our men are concerned. yet our pheromones sense things, weather and other perturbations. mothers voice in the heart of her children, daughters tend to stay closer to home. women, we hear the call! as we quiet our longing drawl, the pull we feel to somewhere, we know not of a place beyond the beauty of our eyes, we know, we remember, our requirements as a creator. ours, the power of the reflection of the full moon, the trees dance in the monthly celebration, though in the desert, I've seen a few who, when the moon is too full, too reflective of its presence, they fold to hide from the light. knowing whats best for themselves, I trust. I just can't help but to choose to stand with Her. stand in Her light, my mouth opens for the gift. the thirst quenched. head tilted back, think of the men of the world. if I could just hug them. as Ms Badu claims I bet you LOVE can make it better … I bet too. I bet I can heal you. open your heart, peal the bitter, drain the water, raise the alter. praise the lover, embrace as a Mother. pour into the builder, the sender. release his true endeavors. release the tension in his body, helping him to know mind over matter. plugging him into the true creative power of his *** his gift of Love, of his body penetrating another. what his self is communicating, what his seed is sprouting. he needs our healing. his heart is calling, and he's stomping around like a little boy! I have sons, they stomp around… they need mommys love, mommys extra love. she, calls us to her sons. new normals, open our hearts health always to follow.
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72
The Chicago Tribune editors in an article ask What rhymes with lithium -ion battery Challenging poets to address this awesome task. Why, it is better than winning a lottery It allows me, says the poet, to roam By plugging into a socket at home. The article described the surge and Electric vehicle production expected in the next 10 to 20 years. In a playful aside they asked how writers of songs find words to rhyme with battery.
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Jul 10, 2017
Jul 10, 2017 at 11:46 AM UTC
Lithium-ion battery
I can't dream if it's from this closet Every thing I want to do just sounds so god **** pompous I talk about what I want to do and everybody thinks I've lost it I'm on the radar, but I'm the darkest blip Walking the plank on purpose, S.S. **** you, I'm off this ship I feel like I've finally got it, and of course then I've lost it I write a masterpiece, "hey where's the follow up?" Like me and my girl jinxin the future with a prenup 'Oh you know we just trying to be safe,' right ***** let's marry up this **** then You can take it all just split them assets Get me bent with no price or rent See I ain't tryna get around just tryna win this Can't seem to get to the top when I'm the only one in the bracket Try to be a team player, but my teams full of ******* I'm Harry Potter ***** imma smash that *** like quidditch I gonna hit that pinata, till the cash flow get me riches I talk ***** but I miss the way you talk British, you a fit birdy, girl I eat my grits, but I ain't really eating till after we're flirty, girl Take you to the back room, pour some wine and then some feelings, watch some mad men and tell you bout my last girl I said I like the way you talk to me but I think I just like how I can talk to you You're an outlet, and I'm plugging, your sticking around, but you should know I'm just thuggin And maybe I just say the ***** things I say to mask my potential under promiscuity cause I got a real problem promising myself I'll solve my problems too (I'd never admit it though) See that's just something me and my crew do I guess it masks all the little ***** blues 'fake cries' During this poem I think I grew three inches for you   In my heart See it's so easy to gravitate to you like your the sun and I'm Mercury, I'm too close and you're burning me alive, but I can't pull myself apart, girl it'll never work We can't stop Miley, that's melancholy for sure (but keep the twerk) You make me feel like Frank Sinatra, and I can't even sing So **** confident, you let me discover myself, I'm deep, I can feel, I'm Mike Tyson, Kung Pao chicken, I bring it all to the ring All these little kids on the streets learning how to *** from me 'like fricken' The thought of you got me sick to the stomach, it's sticking .. Too bad you're just a god **** fling
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May 18, 2014
May 18, 2014 at 11:40 PM UTC
Confidence as big as how big I think I am.
I can't dream if it's from this closet Every thing I want to do just sounds so god **** pompous I talk about what I want to do and everybody thinks I've lost it I'm on the radar, but I'm the darkest blip Walking the plank on purpose, S.S. **** you, I'm off this ship I feel like I've finally got it, and of course then I've lost it I write a masterpiece, "hey where's the follow up?" Like me and my girl jinxin the future with a prenup 'Oh you know we just trying to be safe,' right ***** let's marry up this **** then You can take it all just split them assets Get me bent with no price or rent See I ain't tryna get around just tryna win this Can't seem to get to the top when I'm the only one in the bracket Try to be a team player, but my teams full of ******* I'm Harry Potter ***** imma smash that *** like quidditch I gonna hit that pinata, till the cash flow get me riches I talk ***** but I miss the way you talk British, you a fit birdy, girl I eat my grits, but I ain't really eating till after we're flirty, girl Take you to the back room, pour some wine and then some feelings, watch some mad men and tell you bout my last girl I said I like the way you talk to me but I think I just like how I can talk to you You're an outlet, and I'm plugging, your sticking around, but you should know I'm just thuggin And maybe I just say the ***** things I say to mask my potential under promiscuity cause I got a real problem promising myself I'll solve my problems too (I'd never admit it though) See that's just something me and my crew do I guess it masks all the little ***** blues 'fake cries' During this poem I think I grew three inches for you   In my heart See it's so easy to gravitate to you like your the sun and I'm Mercury, I'm too close and you're burning me alive, but I can't pull myself apart, girl it'll never work We can't stop Miley, that's melancholy for sure (but keep the twerk) You make me feel like Frank Sinatra, and I can't even sing So **** confident, you let me discover myself, I'm deep, I can feel, I'm Mike Tyson, Kung Pao chicken, I bring it all to the ring All these little kids on the streets learning how to *** from me 'like fricken' The thought of you got me sick to the stomach, it's sticking .. Too bad you're just a god **** fling
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36
I have an imagination plugging into my vision I see wind and amalgamate with it's intentions Moves meant to carry seeds and make you feel the rain Providing space for calm and storm both to be my name
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Nov 15, 2015
Nov 15, 2015 at 8:08 PM UTC
Crazy Third Eye
To be a Mrs Joe or become a lady Havisham? I weep for him I weep for him I weep for him and me. I lose tears salted with his stress or his concealed thoughts plugging up his brilliant mind i weep about him, about me about us there's no shame in being pure we're all pure at once there's no shame. To him there is. in the doubts of his voice and tongue there is shame. i love him. i love him with everything i have everything i see everything i believe or know i willingly give to him but he loves me not. ill slip him some purple petals dipped in yellow stigmas or become a ghost of a girlfriend. a ghoul of a lover. one insignificant link in a long shackled chain of exs forever bound in his vast memory and mind as ***** "cow" **** "ungrateful" "unworthy" Am I Cleoparra? Mrs Joe? Havisham? Estella? I have no twinkling green eyes i have no slender waist or vast, indefeatable wit i have no enigmatic undeniable beauty That would quake the heavens and make angels sing and string Apollo's lyre or beam such light that would Diana's breast i am insignificant .unspecial. he is special. i believe in no such god but he would be my proof my tear of hope a small ray of belief and defiance tearing apart a black unbelieving universe i am a passing pair of peepers he'll see a million as insignificant as i ill only know a love like this once. For him. he should live forever he will if not this world in a wasteland am i Estella? Cleopatra? Mrs Joe? Miss Havisham?
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Dec 22, 2013
Dec 22, 2013 at 2:29 PM UTC
Untitled
The sun blazing fiercely, the moon longed for eagerly, days draws to a close in quiet beauty, plugging in cold water is inviting, the tide of desire running low;            scorching Summer is now here, My love
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May 15, 2014
May 15, 2014 at 5:02 AM UTC
Ablazing summer
In the light of your immaculate form I make the following declaration: I will be your jealous cellist-  (I.) And I will play you like a stringed instrument - then When you make delighted whisperings And finesse the fine music of the feminine, magnificent  Your heathen distemper Distributed,  woman-like, goddess-like Classic cello-shape  Draped in lilting silk Then I will fiddle and pluck Cast broad swathes near and about your single tingling place  Your attuned instrument  And it's spruce wooded frontispiece. (II.) You faux arabesque  (for faux is our shared domain)- Your hands moving gracefully - you pause -  Feigning flight  Feigning fancy Considering My rising fire  Weighty desire Shadows mingle with glimpses of My thickness and length- Veined skin and steel,  White - waiting, wanting - And there's an answer.  (III.) You are girl - such a girl  I am boy, only boy  My persistent mans eye view  Part pleased with the flashes of you -  Now in new  Near **** rhythm  This gilded exuberance,  Radiant Hypnotic Sets sparks flying  Tickling toward sky and stars I would have you  My dexterous digits upon your supple, warm- Fragrant fresh flesh fret board  I would squeeze you where Your mystery resides and Elsewhere besides. (IV.) Roughly - at first - needy Determined - I would play upon Your duet of juice creators Invoke the  Holiness of your  Secret sacred spaces Doublet, Triplet, Quintet  Play on! play on!  I would have you  With my plugging piece  There! There! Your open legs  Secretly seeking my carnival of thrusting  Inside your warm girls pearl Antidote for collective loneliness.  (V. ) I would hold you, your sides -  Firm in my greed Our lustful minuet in 3/4 time Play on, play on - I  Kiss your neck,  nibble your ******* It's you, it's you You arch yourself toward me Warmly Affectionate,  We hold hands, fingers between,  And dance.  (VI.) This some time Summertime Bright flame  We reach - how we reach-  Our mouths, our tongues -  The very words we speak- yearning for -  longing for - Connection Each to the other, and  Our connection to God  "Rightful sin -  Come to us again And again - and again  Satisfy our minds!"
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Sep 30, 2014
Sep 30, 2014 at 6:26 AM UTC
The Jealous Cellist
In the light of your immaculate form I make the following declaration: I will be your jealous cellist-  (I.) And I will play you like a stringed instrument - then When you make delighted whisperings And finesse the fine music of the feminine, magnificent  Your heathen distemper Distributed,  woman-like, goddess-like Classic cello-shape  Draped in lilting silk Then I will fiddle and pluck Cast broad swathes near and about your single tingling place  Your attuned instrument  And it's spruce wooded frontispiece. (II.) You faux arabesque  (for faux is our shared domain)- Your hands moving gracefully - you pause -  Feigning flight  Feigning fancy Considering My rising fire  Weighty desire Shadows mingle with glimpses of My thickness and length- Veined skin and steel,  White - waiting, wanting - And there's an answer.  (III.) You are girl - such a girl  I am boy, only boy  My persistent mans eye view  Part pleased with the flashes of you -  Now in new  Near **** rhythm  This gilded exuberance,  Radiant Hypnotic Sets sparks flying  Tickling toward sky and stars I would have you  My dexterous digits upon your supple, warm- Fragrant fresh flesh fret board  I would squeeze you where Your mystery resides and Elsewhere besides. (IV.) Roughly - at first - needy Determined - I would play upon Your duet of juice creators Invoke the  Holiness of your  Secret sacred spaces Doublet, Triplet, Quintet  Play on! play on!  I would have you  With my plugging piece  There! There! Your open legs  Secretly seeking my carnival of thrusting  Inside your warm girls pearl Antidote for collective loneliness.  (V. ) I would hold you, your sides -  Firm in my greed Our lustful minuet in 3/4 time Play on, play on - I  Kiss your neck,  nibble your ******* It's you, it's you You arch yourself toward me Warmly Affectionate,  We hold hands, fingers between,  And dance.  (VI.) This some time Summertime Bright flame  We reach - how we reach-  Our mouths, our tongues -  The very words we speak- yearning for -  longing for - Connection Each to the other, and  Our connection to God  "Rightful sin -  Come to us again And again - and again  Satisfy our minds!"
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Blood tests are something I could do without But they are alas a necessary evil And though it’s really not a thing to shout about They haven’t so far (in my case) proved lethal. However it was with a deal of trepidation That I presented myself at phlebotomy today. The result did not match up to my anticipation; The perfect vein was quickly pierced I’m glad to say. It did, at least, give some sense of direction To medical support for my ongoing treatment Avoiding, to my great relief, any infection Or disconcerting prospect of impeachment. While the symptoms are improved by the procedure, The condition, sad to say, is not remitted, And the problem, even sadder, gets no easier, While the health practitioners remain committed To additional probing examination, And are calling me for further tests next week, Despite the blood flow’s vast immoderation That required a lot of plugging of the leak. When they put me into my final casket And thus dispose my bones and body once for all I can imagine someone there will ask it: “We wonder why his body seems so awfully pale.”
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Jun 30, 2015
Jun 30, 2015 at 6:45 AM UTC
ON HAVING A BLOOD TEST
a laugh a reckless smile a chuckle how hollow how empty how harrowing eyes clicked shut ears jammed close limbs weighted and air turns liquid corrossive and thick as fumes of consuming embers the hunt turns frenetic goes frantic still the screen remains shuttered the space under the door letting little monsters to trickle in but no light comes with them plugging close whatever's left of illuminated space and they shrieked their attendance announcing their presence with the aplomb of a fairy queen's coronation i asked them one simple question 'what? what made you come here?' their gazes devoid of empathy they looked at each other and their still arriving mates and voiced one answer 'because you are you'. and i feel my lips tugging at the corners and my tears building in the dammed lake behind my retinas and my feet grow roots to seep and spread beneath the barren ground
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Mar 5, 2010
Mar 5, 2010 at 10:49 AM UTC
The Answer.
Tonight when everything goes quiet. When you cut your tv off after One last channel check And the light from your phone flashes one last time before plugging it on the charger. When your laying there lost in thought Before finally fading off into a deep sleep. There is a cliff that resonates between our deepest thoughts. And on that cliff I am standing there waiting on you to fall into a deep sleep. And grant you one of the best dreams you've had in a long time
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Dec 19, 2016
Dec 19, 2016 at 8:29 PM UTC
Sweet Dreams