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"postings" poems
Tilted heads stare into spaces. Tilted heads around dinner tables. Tilted heads walking down city streets. Tilted heads as they walk on the beach. Sitting side by side in street cafes. Searching postings of weekend retreats. Never bothered by voices expressed. Self-absorbed and consumed but never suppressed. Over-share meals, feelings, and pangs, GPS tells us your when and your where. Pictures in mirrors, duck lipped eyes wide. Never a moment too private, declared! Be well, be good, and please keep in touch.
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Dec 31, 2014
Dec 31, 2014 at 11:09 AM UTC
Tilted Heads
This is the machine. Tucked under necklaces, poppies and daffodils calligraphic fingertip Xs hurry across pockets. Thursday morning job postings markers on construction paper windows exhausted by making parts. Keep weddings in thunderstorms to hide the sound of windmills in chests, bittersweet directions to ticking clockwork. Carbonated water can’t convince summer to stay, musical breaths and tulip footsteps remind me of the gears in my knees. Always buy wallets used daylily bank notes folded into stairwells, the heels of my socks. Blue collars in ochre wheelbarrows soaking next to the white ones. We are quiet machines. With cogs in our wrists battery powered bone and sinew. Baby’s breath white in our hair, tiny bunches piled into collar bones or concave stomachs. You have stars in your hair whispering in manufactured voices to pull out your eyelashes. Consumed by the concept of concepts on ravine park benches, marred with newspaper labyrinths smelling of rolled up sleeves. Hand held gummy bears prompt me to check my fluid levels, bubbly orchids in my left palm. Sugar intakes and patterned pants hide homemade pulses. This is the machine.
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Jun 1, 2013
Jun 1, 2013 at 12:14 PM UTC
This is the machine
Really..?  R or Top hat or Woody or James who ever you really are. ......... r commented on my poem ''Poetry'' and said.... ''I don't usually respond to children or little nuts that fall from an oak tree, but since you addressed me specifically, I will. You are apparently clueless about the true character of your daddy woof. If you want to be a little fly buzzing around his piles of Chihuahua crap that he calls poetry, feel free. Leave me out of your juvenile postings.  You don't know me fallen acorn, so I choose not to respond.'' .................... You blocked me, cause I called you out and you knew that I was going to respond to your comment. You called me a child, I'm 16 and I'm way more matture than you... hint hint: fallen acorn..... Really...? Come on r you could have done better than that. Thats was corny and so unoriginal. :) I really wasn't trying to get involved with this. But I was going to defend my friend and let you know what was good. ........I'm leave it right here. But come at me again and we (just me and you) are going to have some really big problems. <--thats not a threat either...its a promise that I intend on keeping.
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Jan 6, 2016
Jan 6, 2016 at 1:38 PM UTC
Really..? #Mood
I logged onto the free WiFi from a bathroom stall, to find information regarding the class I was to attend in half an hour. I found contradictory information between the contents of my backpack and postings on the internet. Now I am unsure of where to go or what to do. Now I don't want to leave this stall at all. I put on my **** it up pants today. Now I cant convince them to button and zip.
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Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 5:09 PM UTC
bathroom
O God ! O God! Why have you forsaken me? Shepherds slaughter the fattest sheep. They join and plot and mark the victim for their feast. They have but one aim, to please the high priest, Get postings to pastures with the wealthiest sheep. We are special claim they and we Are anointed by Jesus and stand for him Beware of our powers which exceed the bomb Our curses cause damnation fore'er Afraid of the trappings, frightened by the robes And stories of punishments to disobedient sheep We cower in fear while they revel and plunge Their knives and forks into our hearts for their feast Organized religion has killed our faith Yet we remember how You were slain By organized religion which was the same then As it is now And repeat your cry O Father,why have you forsaken me? I have tried to live in your presence And be honest in everything I have put my trust in Your priests and Your Church Only to find That they Secretly mock and plan to slaughter us To fatten themselves. Should I pray- curse them to eternal poverty Of Spirit and temporal wealth Let them wander in hunger Till they realize That they live with pigs But Your way Lord Is to forgive And pray- 'Forgive them, for they do not know what they do'. Help me, give me strength to conquer my weak mind and ego And forgive, and pray.
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Sep 5, 2012
Sep 5, 2012 at 11:45 PM UTC
Forsaken
Not too long ago, Facebook and Twitter and other Social Networks All seemed a novelty A truce amongst unimaginative Teens and kids and adults too Whatever happened To romantic paper printed notes The blotched ink that actually meant something Now it is loveless postings And fake marriages And fake relationships This is all thanks To the brain-cell killing 'Media'
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Feb 5, 2015
Feb 5, 2015 at 1:18 PM UTC
Media
Forgiveness ties Regret in woe, especially Today— for shall a Foe toe through a Row, express Itself not may. And whence bewatched the timing spare, Below should postings go— but upside-down the Turtle's lair, as only One would know.
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Jan 28, 2023
Jan 28, 2023 at 4:13 PM UTC
Forgiveness Ties Regret in Woe
Ponds anew with animals Fine young cannibals Forest trees blossom open Spies await behind every curtain Display of affectation Serenaded by dancing starlings Capped vertical postings Downed power outages Falsehoods weep tonight With triangular reasoning: Past, Present, Future. Vertigo. THE QUADROCOPTERS ARE COMING!
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May 10, 2013
May 10, 2013 at 12:24 PM UTC
Spring Quadrocopter
"evening" falls upon the land Here she comes.. The shallow trickster with someone Else's Love Band. She made you believe you were something. You "were at least a chance.." Nope. It was  a fancy picture of her,despair's linger, and laugh's dance. You would have given her the world. If she wasn't so blind to take it. However, I don't have a fancy picture, well worded postings, false teachings, or the will to laugh at some else's tears as I stare and sit. I don't have the will to string someone along and then "pose for the camera, My ''crush." My father fought in the war... When postcards were sent. No Picture or jewelry. Just a sweet and truthful card. How this person would run to them, after the war, and save this unseen beauty from another worldly yard. Those times are gone with a selfie and a caption... "I might like you...If you meet my requirements.. Now don't make me walk away due to the lack of action."
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Jul 29, 2015
Jul 29, 2015 at 4:20 PM UTC
Selfie
How do we remember ...war, victorious! or lost... or oh, the cost... how do we remember ...battles the call!... the charge, or the silence ... the toll! how do we remember...soldiers, and when they are...older scarred but not forgotten, MIA, KIA after war after battles after soldiers honor, bravery, scarred, not scared loved, missed, by wives and mothers and all the others, this one battle "defined a nation" and at a cost of 10,000 men, who would soldier no more, but take postings to peoples memories once lives turned from war, and to war again and war again and to peace makers. Vimy - April 9 - 12, 1917
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Apr 8, 2015
Apr 8, 2015 at 11:18 PM UTC
Vimy - April 9 - 12, 1917
Hello, 4am, it's me again, Hello, grandmother, I'm sorry I never called you again, Hello, mother, father, I wish it was me speaking How many times do I have to say it, Son? It's just your emotions, Father, it feels like my emotions are waves, and I'm at war with the ocean, Momma, I was kinda hoping that you'd listen while I still had the chance to say something I guess this is all for boasting, Maybe if I share it online, my name will get a couple of postings, My twitter feed will grow famous, My pretty and depressed Tumblr blog will attract the ones like them, the ones who use sadness as an accessory, The ones who don't take it seriously, but really just "hate themselves more than anything", I can't ******* take any of you seriously, Seriously, there's a monster in my head and it's burrowing itself out to cover for me I'm not even here anymore, I might as well not even pretend to be, It's hard to be bright when the dark is all that you see, She, is all that I see, He, is all that I see, Them, they, are all that I see, I don't want to ******* see anything, I just want to melt the ice and see the roses in the spring But don't mind me, It's not like I'll make any of this apparent for others to see, It's kind of hard to do something like that when the blue you see is black to me and the grass is grey, not even a little green Trust me, I've tried the drinking, And yes, I've tried the smoking, But none of it is helping, not even a little bit, I still feel it, I still see it, I still feel hollow I don't want to be alone, I just want to feel at home, But I don't I'm tired, I'm tired I called God to ask him if I could still get into Heaven if I killed myself, The operator told me that God called in sick today, Take this as a plea for help, yes, Take this back to your home, yes, Take this into consideration, yes, Take my life, I just want someone to take it before something else does
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Oct 11, 2016
Oct 11, 2016 at 10:52 PM UTC
Can I Still Get Into Heaven
Hello, 4am, it's me again, Hello, grandmother, I'm sorry I never called you again, Hello, mother, father, I wish it was me speaking How many times do I have to say it, Son? It's just your emotions, Father, it feels like my emotions are waves, and I'm at war with the ocean, Momma, I was kinda hoping that you'd listen while I still had the chance to say something I guess this is all for boasting, Maybe if I share it online, my name will get a couple of postings, My twitter feed will grow famous, My pretty and depressed Tumblr blog will attract the ones like them, the ones who use sadness as an accessory, The ones who don't take it seriously, but really just "hate themselves more than anything", I can't ******* take any of you seriously, Seriously, there's a monster in my head and it's burrowing itself out to cover for me I'm not even here anymore, I might as well not even pretend to be, It's hard to be bright when the dark is all that you see, She, is all that I see, He, is all that I see, Them, they, are all that I see, I don't want to ******* see anything, I just want to melt the ice and see the roses in the spring But don't mind me, It's not like I'll make any of this apparent for others to see, It's kind of hard to do something like that when the blue you see is black to me and the grass is grey, not even a little green Trust me, I've tried the drinking, And yes, I've tried the smoking, But none of it is helping, not even a little bit, I still feel it, I still see it, I still feel hollow I don't want to be alone, I just want to feel at home, But I don't I'm tired, I'm tired I called God to ask him if I could still get into Heaven if I killed myself, The operator told me that God called in sick today, Take this as a plea for help, yes, Take this back to your home, yes, Take this into consideration, yes, Take my life, I just want someone to take it before something else does
Continue reading...
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Yes! Given access Yet again. I've wanted or more so Needed This. An outlet. Somewhere to place the emotions Kept, felt, endured and enduring. A place of thought and introspection. For I live. In itself meaning highs and lows Felt and known. Sharing. Poetic postings
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Sep 2, 2021
Sep 2, 2021 at 12:47 PM UTC
Poetic Postings
The ladies with the initials M,T,N and G Keep a good eye on all the postings they see Should they sight anything which is crook They immediately put it into the chief's book Luckily some have escaped the place And now parade in a less controlled space They can express themselves more openly Without the strictures of the chief and his deputies
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Apr 27, 2013
Apr 27, 2013 at 9:21 AM UTC
The Chief and His Deputies
the purest form of sycophantic flattery and kiss my *** ed ness plagiarism is it? now they tell me, oh well, I will grab some while I can. "Fab write - congrats on the daily ** Feels good to me Enough postings in this mode doesn't have to rhyme or be an ode; Why stop Gets me to the top My name in lite prose, Sufficient unto the day, Or something like that. And "Wow well done on the daily my friend - stunning write ** How to describe this gem A sound bite for all of them The gift that keeps on giving (just cut and paste) This way nothing ever goes to waste Now this bit below, A gift for all time In the blue corner and by the one and only……………. The Englishman Weighing in today just for one short piece Will i am Sha ke  es peare ....................... “That strain again It had a dying fall: O, it came over my earlike the sweet sound That breaths upon a bank of violets Stealing and giving odour!  Enough; no more ‘Tis not so sweet as was before” ** Gosh he’s good gives me time to copy some stuff Well that should be enough I’ll rest on other’s laurels only the kisses, not the quarrels Why not? and God wot Post it quickly, who’s to know A Daily Poem I’ll be all aglow
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Apr 17, 2016
Apr 17, 2016 at 1:34 PM UTC
plagiarism it's all write by me if it's all right by you
*internet interests laundry hanging on the web lines sweet as honey ludicrous statements without hindsight's benefit fish out of water selfie-important others, reflective mirror monkey copies you amused by postings; remind me one boring day to write on the sand* ●○ °
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Jan 3, 2016
Jan 3, 2016 at 9:24 AM UTC
reflective devices
Our ego limits us to speaking like normal beings, But our hearts open up to our vague greetings, Our ego too huge to handle social settings, But our hearts softens to Instagram postings. I saw the blue skies and the white sandy beach, Through my fingerprint-infested mobile screen, I saw the description of a struggling friendship, But our egos forced us to ignore it with a grin. But deep inside our hearts, I know, you know, That this petty tussle could and should well end, But you've your sense of self that needs protection, And I have a self-worth that can’t take anymore bend. I so wish it was that simple and easy, Maybe it is; maybe we’re just lazy, Maybe, heck, that posting was not even for me, But maybe you wrote it for me so very vaguely. It is so funny, peculiar and terribly ironic, That we know in our hearts we’d like to be talking, But instead we give in to our misguided strengths, To be so willing to let go off this precious thing. I guess I should be making the first move, But I so ****** wish I didn't have to, Maybe there is war raging in my head, Talk to you – do I do or do I not do. Perhaps time will tell and we shall wait, Hopefully our fire will not dim a bit, But if it does and it burns to its end, Perhaps we were never what we need.
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Feb 6, 2015
Feb 6, 2015 at 4:45 AM UTC
Till we end
The Lost Generation   now lost online   Paris, a web of postings Its cafes are fed   fresh verses unread    —new Seines left overflowing (Montmartre Paris: March, 2009)
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Jan 21, 2019
Jan 21, 2019 at 4:17 PM UTC
Gertrude.com
*internet interests laundry hanging on the web lines sweet as honey ludicrous statements without hindsight's benefit fish out of water selfie-important others, reflective mirror monkey copies you amused by postings; remind me one boring day to write on the sand* ●○ °
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Oct 19, 2015
Oct 19, 2015 at 8:23 PM UTC
haiku |cluster 015.1a
math I soon learned teacher you can keep it but even I can count minuets the time between postings and the beat of poems is my game
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Jul 24, 2015
Jul 24, 2015 at 5:03 PM UTC
Math
misrepresenting my joy quotient as it seems I am living in a dumpster coated with grime and debris yesterday’s banana peelings moldy coffee grounds act like pepper flakes in my teeth unshorn and raggedy ripped jeans soot covered….. it’s just not the case as my cup runnith over – it is east of easy to ease into elation at least for me so when I find myself brooding I embrace the experience as an artist as a sculptor as a balanced human…. As I have a theory: every atom that creates energy which is anything in the known universe… is made up of both positively and negatively charged particles these particles are in balance or the whole thing falls apart (see nuclear fusion and fission)….. therefore, in order to be a balanced human we must embrace both the positive and negative aspects of life…. this marries itself to the idea perception is reality and what you perceive as negative for another, might be the bee’s knees in their eyes….. which means all balance is based off personal interpretation or good or bad plus or minus positive or negative… but Sam, what does this mean? if it feels wrong to you, don’t do it…. if it feels right, do it….. so long as these actions do not interfere with choices of the other humans you are guaranteed heaven on earth – I have lately been ending many social media postings with this gem: But seriously, what the **** do I know –
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May 18, 2016
May 18, 2016 at 5:54 PM UTC
new philosophy, old philosophy
Social Media has changed our lives In ways both good and bad. Will it stick around or is it Just a temporary fad? Know people's current location. Even see what they had for dinner! Find out election results: Who's the loser? Who's the winner? Keep abreast of births and deaths, Parties, weddings and celebrations. Send your condolences, Comments or congratulations. Read up on current trends; Catch the latest breaking news. Share a joke or witty saying; Find out people's political views. Watch a video clip or listen To a friend's brand-new song. Post your favorite recipe. (Hey, with that you can't go wrong.) Read a poem or view people's Photo albums on their wall. Sift through scores of unchecked "facts." Yes, Facebook has it all. Sometimes there is TMI; Sometimes there is not enough. Sometimes there is powerful info; Sometimes there's a lot of fluff. You don't have to read my postings. No, that would not offend me. However, if you choose to block them, I'd prefer that you unfriend me. - by Bob B
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Oct 2, 2016
Oct 2, 2016 at 10:38 AM UTC
Following Facebook
error 500 has again reared its head where all postings were stopped dead error 500 is the bane of poets who want to write flying its most annoying notification kite error 500 ain't a fine anecdote oft presenting the dreaded note
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Oct 22, 2017
Oct 22, 2017 at 9:04 PM UTC
Error 500
For each of you are truly my Friend. I thank God for you my precious Friend. I appreciate each of you and your gifts. You inspire and encourage others daily. Not just through your gifts, and postings. But through your Life and it's Light. For each of you tell your story beautifully. As well as your strength in never giving up. I appreciate most of all that you are in my life.
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Dec 15, 2015
Dec 15, 2015 at 1:40 PM UTC
I Thankful For Each Of You
I so much out of touch of these humanities affairs Caught listening for every lisp every subtle shift of social media cares I so thirsty for the feed Of my ego-maniacal need For outrage hard and crisp Me scrolling through long lists Of new postings every day All in search of mean things I so joyfully hate to see Speed-reading my frantic way Through an obsolete humanity.
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Aug 22, 2022
Aug 22, 2022 at 9:30 PM UTC
Lost Cause