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Samantha Apr 2017
She felt the pressure to push me out
that's how I was born
I felt the pressure to complete
but I failed
I felt pressure to say yes
I felt pressure,
Pressure to succeed
Pressure to make them happy
Pressure, parents have no idea

Pressure. . . Panic. . .pressure
I felt pressure to allow
I felt pressure to permit
Pressure I felt
Pressure to go along
Pressure to be someone else
Pressure I give in
Pressure I give up
Pressure messed me up
Big Virge Feb 26
" The Pressure... The PRESSURE ... !!! "

Ya Know I'm Like … " V For Vendetta " ...
When It Comes To … " The Pressure " ... !!!

PRESSURES That Surround … !!!
When You're On SHAKY Ground ... !!!

For Some These Pressures Tend To Hound … !!!
Because of Reluctance To Show Their TRUE Substance ...

Refusing To Bend In The Face of PROBLEMS … !!!
That Others Suggest ... You Should Try To DEFLECT … !!?!!

But Why Change Your Purpose Because You Are Nervous … ?!?
Such Actions Are Surplus To Facing Life's Hurdles … !!!

Top Athletes KNOW How The Story Goes …

EMBRACE The Fear And Get In Gear … !!!

Then … DRIVE On THROUGH … !!!
Use The Pressure As A Tool To Make SMART Moves …
And Reduce Your Tension ...
Cos' It's Just An Extension of The FEAR To Lose …

Sometimes You Have To Lose To Show You How To Win … !!!!!
Most Pressures Are A Test To Put You Under Stress …

To Make YOU THINK … " Assess and Progress " …
So That You Can Improve And Do Your Best … !!!!!!

But Things Can Get TRICKY ...
Ask … " Sabine Lisicki " … !!!

Now That's No Diss … !!!

She's A Major Finalist ...
Who Plays Tennis ....
But Has Yet To Enlist ...
What It Takes To Win …

... " Major Championships !!! " …

But If She Stays Strong I Don't Think It Will Be Long …
Before Ms Lisicki ... Puts Right That Wrong … !!!!!

See When You're CLOSE TO You're Dream …
You .... HAVE TO BELIEVE .… !!!!!!

You Can't Afford To CHOKE And That's NO JOKE … !!!!!!

You Have To Stay STRONG … !!!!!
Otherwise You'll Be Singing ...
Tear Filled Songs …. !!!
Because of What Is STINGING … !!!

The PRESSURE of ... Your Loss … !!!!!

FOCUS Is The Key To ... OPENING The Valve …
Where Pressure Is RELEASED And You Retain Your Towel ... !!!!!

Artists TOO …. KNOW This Is TRUE … !!!!!

A Lot of Pressure Is Applied ….
To Those Upsetters of The Lee Scratch Perry Type … !!!!!

There's A Song That's Called ...  " The Pressure " …
That Was Made By … Hip Hop's Tribe …
That Proves That It's A Quest To Put Pressures Aside …
When You Are Given TESTS That Make You Feel … ALIVE ... !!!

Like Going On Stage With Things To Relate …
That May UPSET … Because of Content …
In Things You Say ... That Simply Relate …

Your Views About People ...
That Show Them To Be … " FEEBLE " …  !!!

Now Let Me TELL YA … !!!
THAT'S SOME …. " PRESSURE " …. !!!!!!

But NOT The Type From Which I Hide … !!!

The Pressure of LIES Is A Much WORSE Ride … !!!
Lying To Yourself Is Then The ... ULTIMATE CRIME ... !!!!  

The Types of Pressures Designed By Minds ….
Who Love Adventures ... That AREN'T So Nice … !!!!!

In Fact I'd Say … or Venture … ?!?
That ... When It Comes To PRESSURE …
Within These … Modern Times …

It's Lies And YES DENIAL …
That Causes People Trials …
Just Like … " Death On the Nile " … !!!

Hercule Shows When Pressure's KNOWN …
That People Blow And Then EXPLODE ...
Or Even Worse …. Turn On Their Fold ….. !!!!!

See … Pressure Allies Itself To Such Vibes …
Which I Wouldn't Advise As A Guide To Good Times … !!!

Now Pressure From Peers ...
Can Lead To … " Veneers " … ?!?
That Really … AREN'T GOOD … ?!!!?

So Me I'd Adhere ...
To Steering …............. " Well Clear " … !!!

of Those In Your Hood ...
Who Would If They Could …
See You … Brought To Tears … !!!!!

See It's All About ... " YOU " …  
And How You Pull Through ... !!!
The Moments That … TEST Ya' …
When Options Look … "slender" …

You Must NOT Surrender … !!!

When Facing What We Know ...

As Being ….  

…. " The Pressure " ….
In no small way, inspired by watching Sabine Lisicki lose in her only Wimbledon Final, to Marion Bartoli, as it was clear that the pressure had got to her.

However, it then evolved into this piece of poetry, that speaks on how to best deal with pressures that come your way !
Peer pressure, peer pressure

My name is peer pressure,
My father is doubt,
My mother is duress,
My sister is bad choices,
My brother is nervous energy

I was born in a cyclone of negativity
Whipping through an ocean of people
They're the tribe of the unrest
I know im extremely unwanted
But im here anyways at all times

Peer pressure, peer pressure
Is my name
No one is immune from me
Neither the young, the teen nor the old

I'm evil
I wreak havoc and strife
To the human race

I ruin people's lives

I offer illusions of enjoyment
And pleasure to them

Till when
I take their greatest

Till when
I see them departing
From all that is correct

Till when
No more goodness nor kindness
Is detected from them

Till when
Their morals and goodness
Have gone into decay

Till when
I see their senses sedated
And all their energy depleted

Till when
I see them

Till when
I see tears of regrets
Turn into cries of despair

Till when
I see there is nobody
They can turn unto

Peer pressure, peer pressure

Is my name
Those who grant me to their lives,
I make sure i become
A silhouette of lies to their lives

Till when
They're always


Frozen in time
Hopeless forever

Till when
I see them
Completely gone astray

Pile on the agony
For that is pleasing
To my father Satan

Peer pressure, peer pressure
Is my name

"Alas!" Beware when making me your friend
Because i might end up
You to self destruction.
#peer pressure  #evil #havoc #ruin #deplete #despair #sedate  #silhouette #agony #destruction
C Jun 2013
the kind of pressure that I put on myself
the kind of pressure that comes with being a daughter of two dentists
the kind of pressure that builds up inside and creates castles of anger
the kind of pressure that tells me I'm too heavy
the kind of pressure that forms from great expectations
the kind of pressure that coaches lay upon the captains
the kind of pressure that is applied when goals are never achieved  
the kind of pressure that keeps me up at night thinking about the future
the kind of pressure that secrets ignite
the kind of pressure that the eldest sister gets for just being the first born
the kind of pressure that is invisible to anyone but me
Chris Jan 2019
No pressure
But can you clean the car?
No pressure
But you need 100 or you won't go far.
No pressure
But your next needs to beat the rest.
No pressure
But you need to be a step above the best.
No pressure
But you need to find the liar.
No pressure
But you're getting fired
No pressure
But you need to lead your peers.
No pressure
But you need to beat your fears.
No pressure
But we're gonna add another problem to the pile.
No pressure
But if you fail, we'll move on all the while.
No pressure man.
Salvador Kent May 11
Breathing down your tired neck...
A soft hand touches your cheek,
Pressed down against the warm sheets...

Kissing your neck now...
Happiest you've been all week,
Even though you're in a dream...

Feel warm,
Warm beads drop from your forehead...
Warm inside...
But only because of the pressure...
And this is the happiest you've been all week...

But it is only a dream...

Blue lights block body...
Lose all personality,
No touching bodies...
Only words on a screen...
In reality you are lonely...
Imagining that hands touch cheeks,
Imagining that it's all meant to be...

It's not meant to be.


Broken figures attack your cheek...
Distorted. Thirsty for blood...
The beads on your forehead are sharp now.

Painful. Cold.

You want to wake up from this dream.
Wake up from this sleep…

But you can't wake up.
You're fast asleep.
But only because of the pressure.
Only because of the pressure.


Cold silver against your soft cheek,

Arms don't give the same kick they used to...

Never got to the blood stage with the sharp metal...

Perhaps today you will...
Today is the day to violate soft cheeks...

Today you're cutting your cheek...

Happiest you've been all week.

But only because of the pressure.


Crumpled boy on the street,
Being sick... on his side.
His face has been kicked in 1000 times.

In front of a crowd who only played along...
Because of the pressure.


There's a pressure in your heart now...
It screams stab me please...
It screams I want a sweet release...
It screams mori...

It wants you to give in...

"Forget the notion of pressured sheets...
They will never make you happy"

"Forget a boy crying in the street...
You will never help him."

"Slashing your arms doesn't help at all...
Give in to my pressure…
Stop trying to be happy...
Just give in. Mori."


Breathing down a cold neck...

Bitter. Macabre.

Dead body staring you in the face...
That used to be your home...
Now you're just a roaming soul.

Dead. No skull.


For heart craved sweet release...
From a bitter ache...

Heart said it could be released...
If you treated it to sharp pressure...

And you also felt that ache...
That crave. The desire to mori...

Heart pleaded for sweet release...
Your soul will still roam...
According those sweet books,
You read before you sleep...

Nobody feels the same.
She doesn't feel the same.
He doesn't feel the same.
No he doesn't feel the same.

So why bother seeking pressure…

Self apply pressure.

Mori. Die.


Cold body. Buried. Broken.
Under the pressure of the earth...
And in a macabre dream...

It's eyes open.
I always create all these elaborate visions in my head. This is one of many.
NikiLee Dec 2013
Why is there such thing as pressure? Social pressure, air pressure, blood pressure, peer pressure, sinus pressure, life pressure
We are pressured by every element ever created yet I am not a diamond
I am not a sparkling gem
I am not perfect
But I am something
I am a soul in a body that isn't truly mine and a pine tree in the middle of a cornfiepld and a bird who has to be fed by it's mother because it doesn't know how to live on it's own;
I am the waves that crash into the shoreline and I am the duckling who is always left behind and I am the broken voice who never yelled hallelujah because I didn't believe I could; I am a guitar that is improperly tuned and a book whose spine is destroyed and I am the child who yelled for her father that never came;
I am a unfinished painting and a crooked portrait and the broken record player that repeats the same groove over and over and over;
Yet I am not perfect, because if I was I would be able to answer your question but I can't and if I could, I know wouldn't be able to stand here and tell you who I truly am
Harry J Baxter Oct 2013
For as long as I can remember I have always been haunted by what I now refer to as "The Pressure". This hideous beast contains all that is wrong with the world - doubt, restlessness, greed, anger, love, hate. The Pressure is what makes me vibrate impatiently at the thought of standing in one place for another moment. The Pressure is cripples me with sly thoughts about rent and food. The titanic thick blackness waits just out of view at every turn - waiting to envelop me at any sign of vulnerability. The way your eyes vibrate within your skull and how your vision becomes nothing but a mess of colors and shapes in times of great rage - that's The Pressure.

The Pressure is not a purely malignant force - in today's world of ceaseless gray one would be a fool to assume that anything can be described by such flimsy words as "good" or "evil". The Pressure made me who I am today and even as these words leave my fingertips it is still shaping me. Molding me. The Pressure allows us to see the true nature of our structural fortitude. Perhaps - like the countless others in this world - I am sedimentary and thus destined to be crushed into more and more smaller pieces until I resemble sand. But maybe, just maybe I am a piece of coal just waiting to turn into a dazzling, unbreakable, diamond.
Pressure isn't always harsh.
It doesn't have to be the grim and guttural.
It isn't always in regard to the coarse.
There's the soft kind, sweet.
The gentle pressure of lips against a collar bone.
Fingertips tracing freckles,
Valves working at elevated speeds.
Pressure needn't be a villain.
It can be a tender confession by means of softly spoken words.
Poignant colloquy put down with clean intentions,
The hum at night of dulcet tones into a receiver.
Mellow pressures on the heart and mind are pressures, too.
The pressure of eyes directed toward skin,
A foot on a gas pedal.
The pressure caused by closing distance.

Pressure me.
shannon Jan 2015
I was…
Alone in a large, large place.
Larger than I ever could’ve imagined.
Larger than, even maybe, outer space.
Looking around at all the terrible sight,
The looming darkness that stole my
Breath  away…
In the midst of night.

My mind was in a haze,
And myself in a daze.

All these eyes staring at me,
Pressuring me,
Their looks...
Soft, hard, objectifying.
Melancholy, wise, forceful.

Forceful, forceful, forceful.

All these eyes, straining their visions
Just to look at me
Just to stare

There is no way to go.
No way to get away.
From the pressure of a million eyes.

Alone, in this world,
I was.
Alone, in this world,
I am.

For days and days,
These straining eyes
Stared at me.
For years and years,
These straining eyes
Pressured me.

Those eyes…
Awaited my every move.
Like I was a chess piece
In their game.

Throwing me around
Without a second thought.
Throwing me around
Without a second thought.

It felt like a waterfall.
Pouring down on me,
Pouring down on me.

I drown.
jeffrey conyers Jun 2019
Be advised?
What are you reading?
Is the truth?
Maybe, in some circles not.
We know that there is pressure on you.

If you a PK aka minister child?
What is expected?
What is required?
You must walk a path or representation.
Yes, there is pressure on you.

You can't date the single woman that's loose?
Even if you love her too.
You can't date the hustlers, ****, drug supplier?
Oh, yes, there's pressure on you.

For decades, we very aware of white rage and pressure on the white girl, woman or lady dating that black man.
You offended the family.
Dad, the mom, turning over in their grave.
Maybe, more.
But there's pressure upon you.

Switch it around.
All black males for decades you have been under the gun.
Many mothers have warned their black son about this path.
The hate you face.
The many stares you get and will continue to receive.

For sure, there is multiple pressure upon you.

Somewhere, at this particular time?
There is pressure on you.
Catrina Apr 2018

         Pressure in my mind.


                Reasons to keep acts kind.


         Expectations to live up to.


         Social Acceptance feels like an ill-fit shoe


         Social rejection is far too common


         Unique people with loud gossip


         Resist urges to lead a rebellion


         Exalt yourself, your inner rebel, and set yourself free.
Natalie R Jun 2014
Pressure from someone else is called peer pressure
Look it up, google it, it's a thing
I apologize for the inaccuracy of my definition but you get the gist 
Peer pressure is a ******* ****** bag telling you to **** his **** when you don't want to
It's when "friends" tell you to have your first shot, smoke, sniff of whatever mood altering substance they want you to consume
Just watch a crashcourse, that **** is bad for you okay
It's when you kiss someone you don't want to
When you stay out late after your curfew 
When you sneak out late at night to meet the guy you have a "thing" with but everyone knows your his rebound
But peer pressure
Don't give in 
All your gonna feel
Is absolute regret
Same Mar 2015
you push down on me
you emit your pressure on me
It pushes me down yet i love it
because its yours
you don't even know your effects on me
the pain to know you'll never feel the same
but the pressure wont let me leave
it forces me to look at your life go by
without me being part of it
this pressure i have grown accustomed to
it has become my friend now
and as you lose your grip on this pressure
i retain mine
Cedric McClester Apr 2015
By: Cedric McClester

Any ***** can shoot a *****
What’s it take to pull a trigger
How much pressure do ya figure
Is required to dead a *****
Problem is you’re killin you
When you pull the trigger to
Shoot someone who looks like you
But ain’t that what you ****** do

A ***** lookin for respect
Could pull out a Nine or Tec
At a time you least expect
And you might have to hit the deck
Cuz when the bullets start to fly
Those who don’t just might die
And you don’t wanna go - okay
Like ****** do around the way – cuz

Any ***** can shoot a *****
What’s it take to pull a trigger
How much pressure do ya figure
Is required to dead a *****
Problem is you’re killin you
When you pull the trigger to
Shoot someone who looks like you
But ain’t that what you ****** do

Keep one eye open when you sleep
Cuz in the hood life is cheap
So watch the company you keep
Your main man might be a creep
Don’t let ‘em get the drop on you
The way some ****** like to do
They’ll roll up on you with a crew
And run a clip off into you

Any ***** can shoot a *****
What’s it take to pull a trigger
How much pressure do ya figure
Is required to dead a *****
Problem is you’re killin you
When you pull the trigger to
Shoot someone who looks like you
But ain’t that what you ****** do

****** don’t respect themselves
Never mind someone else
That’s why they keep their gats and shells
And you know what that often spells
Cuz ****** are up to no good
There’s gun smoke in the neighborhood
And it’s high time they realize
That it’s themselve who they despise – cuz

Any ***** can shoot a *****
What’s it take to pull a trigger
How much pressure do ya figure
Is required to dead a *****
Problem is you’re killin you
When you pull the trigger to
Shoot someone who looks like you
But ain’t that what you ****** do

Did you ever stop to think
****** could become extinct
In the time it takes to blink
Like some kind of missin link
Unless we suddenly stop killin
The prophesy will keep fulfillin
Even though the thought is chillin
Long as the blood just keep on spillin – cuz

Any ***** can shoot a *****
What’s it take to pull a trigger
How much pressure do ya figure
Is required to dead a *****
Problem is you’re killin you
When you pull the trigger to
Shoot someone who looks like you
But ain’t that what you ****** do

Although it’s often said in play
And despite what some folks say
The use of ***** ain’t okay
Though you might hear it everyday
My usage of it in this joint
Is for effect to prove a point
It’s not to glorify the term
But will you ****** ever learn – that

Any ***** can shoot a *****
What’s it take to pull a trigger
How much pressure do ya figure
Is required to dead a *****
Problem is you’re killin you
When you pull the trigger to
Shoot someone who looks like you
But ain’t that what you ****** do

Although it’s often said in play
And despite what some folks say
The use of ***** ain’t okay
Though you might hear it everyday
My usage of it in this joint
Is for effect to prove a point
It’s not to glorify the term
But will you ****** ever learn

(c) Copyright 2015.  Cedric McClester.  All rights reserved.
Clive Blake Jul 2017
STRAIN is pressure on the muscle,
Stress is pressure on the brain,
A culmination of anxieties,
Hard to bear, hard to explain,
It's a stressful world we live in ...

PRESSURE on the muscle, is called strain,
Pressure on the brain, is called stress,
Over exertion of the grey matter,
Cerebral tiredness, mental duress,
It's a stressful world we live in ...

STRESS is pressure on the brain,
Strain is pressure on the muscle,
Symptoms of life's hectic pace,
Attempts to cope, with life's hustle and bustle,
It's a stressful world we live in ...

PRESSURE on the brain, is called stress,
Pressure on the muscle, is called strain,
Perhaps trying too hard to compete,
A desire too strong to attain,
It's a stressful world we live in ...

Don't expect too much from life,
While still always trying your best,
Put your shoulder against the wheel,
The strain in your muscle is real,
But leave all the stress for the rest!
CommonStory Dec 2015
Every now and then
I'm convinced to move a pen
Under the world pressure
It can be my pleasure
To see the highs and lows
While my shoulders hang low
Under the world pressure
This is your first lesson
A read and not replied message
We all hate it
Debating if we could but we can't fake it
Mistake it
miss take it for something other than
Appropriate neglect read message sent
Wait suspense
1 minute 2
2 minutes till
An hour pass by and no reply still
A world pressure all alone you don't notice
Keep the scale heavy with the world upon my shoulders
World pressure
Here's another lesson
Life doesn't mean to be mean
But exceeding the median in any direction makes it return to the mean
Meaning too much of something good is too much of something bad
So too much is too much it's that simple
Plain to plan
Just as I was moving and got hired
If I don't pass I'll abruptly be fired
Because I possess no piece of paper
Please relieve the player
Relief bequeathed a favor
Now no more to savor
Give a dog a bone
Then leave the dog alone
Walk down the summer block
Not awaiting a thunder shock
Just as your alone it rains a summer song
Gravity not tragedy the melody I play along
It's just world pressure
Copyright Matthew Marquis Xavier Donald 12/22/15
Kathy Sep 2019
I feel like a stranger in my own home.
An outsider.
The lodger that has outstayed their welcome.
When are these feelings going to fade?
As though the cycle of my youth has started again.
Pressure to get a proper job.
Pressure to find someone to settle down with.
Pressure to be someone I don’t want to be.
Pressure to live up to the same standards as everyone else.
Pressure to be independent. Not just independent in the sense as we know it but in the financial sense.
Pressure to be thin.
Pressure to be as thin as my mum.
How do I break away from those projections of frustration, of disappointment, of self-loathing?
Kaye B Anderson Apr 2014
See there,
Be there,
Hear there,
Breathe there.

Though you're here, Not there?
Pressure - to be there.
To see there,
To hear there,
To think, live and breathe - there
Pressure - to be there.
Pressure - to be untrue,
To be everything,
**Everything but YOU
Poem on the pressure's of today's society - letting go of one's true dreams and desires, needs and wants, to go along with what society has labelled wrong, right, better or worse.
Cass was the youngest and most beautiful of 5 sisters. Cass was the most beautiful girl
in town. 1/2 Indian with a supple and strange body, a snake-like and fiery body with eyes
to go with it. Cass was fluid moving fire. She was like a spirit stuck into a form that
would not hold her. Her hair was black and long and silken and whirled about as did her
body. Her spirit was either very high or very low. There was no in between for Cass. Some
said she was crazy. The dull ones said that. The dull ones would never understand Cass. To
the men she was simply a *** machine and they didn't care whether she was crazy or not.
And Cass danced and flirted, kissed the men, but except for an instance or two, when it
came time to make it with Cass, Cass had somehow slipped away, eluded the men.
Her sisters accused her of misusing her beauty, of not using her mind enough, but Cass
had mind and spirit; she painted, she danced, she sang, she made things of clay, and when
people were hurt either in the spirit or the flesh, Cass felt a deep grieving for them.
Her mind was simply different; her mind was simply not practical. Her sisters were jealous
of her because she attracted their men, and they were angry because they felt she didn't
make the best use of them. She had a habit of being kind to the uglier ones; the so-called
handsome men revolted her- "No guts," she said, "no zap. They are riding on
their perfect little earlobes and well- shaped nostrils...all surface and no
insides..." She had a temper that came close to insanity, she had a temper that some
call insanity. Her father had died of alcohol and her mother had run off leaving the
girls alone. The girls went to a relative who placed them in a convent. The convent had
been an unhappy place, more for Cass than the sisters. The girls were jealous of Cass and
Cass fought most of them. She had razor marks all along her left arm from defending
herself in two fights. There was also a permanent scar along the left cheek but the scar
rather than lessening her beauty only seemed to highlight it. I met her at the West End
Bar several nights after her release from the convent. Being youngest, she was the last of
the sisters to be released. She simply came in and sat next to me. I was probably the
ugliest man in town and this might have had something to do with it.
"Drink?" I asked.
"Sure, why not?"
I don't suppose there was anything unusual in our conversation that night, it was
simply in the feeling Cass gave. She had chosen me and it was as simple as that. No
pressure. She liked her drinks and had a great number of them. She didn't seem quite of
age but they served he anyhow. Perhaps she had forged i.d., I don't know. Anyhow, each
time she came back from the restroom and sat down next to me, I did feel some pride. She
was not only the most beautiful woman in town but also one of the most beautiful I had
ever seen. I placed my arm about her waist and kissed her once.
"Do you think I'm pretty?" she asked.
"Yes, of course, but there's something else... there's more than your
"People are always accusing me of being pretty. Do you really think I'm
"Pretty isn't the word, it hardly does you fair."
Cass reached into her handbag. I thought she was reaching for her handkerchief. She
came out with a long hatpin. Before I could stop her she had run this long hatpin through
her nose, sideways, just above the nostrils. I felt disgust and horror. She looked at me
and laughed, "Now do you think me pretty? What do you think now, man?" I pulled
the hatpin out and held my handkerchief over the bleeding. Several people, including the
bartender, had seen the act. The bartender came down:
"Look," he said to Cass, "you act up again and you're out. We don't need
your dramatics here."
"Oh, *******, man!" she said.
"Better keep her straight," the bartender said to me.
"She'll be all right," I said.
"It's my nose, I can do what I want with my nose."
"No," I said, "it hurts me."
"You mean it hurts you when I stick a pin in my nose?"
"Yes, it does, I mean it."
"All right, I won't do it again. Cheer up."
She kissed me, rather grinning through the kiss and holding the handkerchief to her
nose. We left for my place at closing time. I had some beer and we sat there talking. It
was then that I got the perception of her as a person full of kindness and caring. She
gave herself away without knowing it. At the same time she would leap back into areas of
wildness and incoherence. Schitzi. A beautiful and spiritual schitzi. Perhaps some man,
something, would ruin her forever. I hoped that it wouldn't be me. We went to bed and
after I turned out the lights Cass asked me,
"When do you want it? Now or in the morning?"
"In the morning," I said and turned my back.
In the morning I got up and made a couple of coffees, brought her one in bed. She
"You're the first man who has turned it down at night."
"It's o.k.," I said, "we needn't do it at all."
"No, wait, I want to now. Let me freshen up a bit."
Cass went into the bathroom. She came out shortly, looking quite wonderful, her long
black hair glistening, her eyes and lips glistening, her glistening... She displayed her
body calmly, as a good thing. She got under the sheet.
"Come on, lover man."
I got in. She kissed with abandon but without haste. I let my hands run over her body,
through her hair. I mounted. It was hot, and tight. I began to stroke slowly, wanting to
make it last. Her eyes looked directly into mine.
"What's your name?" I asked.
"What the hell difference does it make?" she asked.
I laughed and went on ahead. Afterwards she dressed and I drove her back to the bar but
she was difficult to forget. I wasn't working and I slept until 2 p.m. then got up and
read the paper. I was in the bathtub when she came in with a large leaf- an elephant ear.
"I knew you'd be in the bathtub," she said, "so I brought you something
to cover that thing with, nature boy."
She threw the elephant leaf down on me in the bathtub.
"How did you know I'd be in the tub?"
"I knew."
Almost every day Cass arrived when I was in the tub. The times were different but she
seldom missed, and there was the elephant leaf. And then we'd make love. One or two nights
she phoned and I had to bail her out of jail for drunkenness and fighting.
"These sons of *******," she said, "just because they buy you a few
drinks they think they can get into your pants."
"Once you accept a drink you create your own trouble."
"I thought they were interested in me, not just my body."
"I'm interested in you and your body. I doubt, though, that most men can see
beyond your body."
I left town for 6 months, bummed around, came back. I had never forgotten Cass, but
we'd had some type of argument and I felt like moving anyhow, and when I got back i
figured she'd be gone, but I had been sitting in the West End Bar about 30 minutes when
she walked in and sat down next to me.
"Well, *******, I see you've come back."
I ordered her a drink. Then I looked at her. She had on a high- necked dress. I had
never seen her in one of those. And under each eye, driven in, were 2 pins with glass
heads. All you could see were the heads of the pins, but the pins were driven down into
her face.
"******* you, still trying to destroy your beauty, eh?"
"No, it's the fad, you fool."
"You're crazy."
"I've missed you," she said.
"Is there anybody else?"
"No there isn't anybody else. Just you. But I'm hustling. It costs ten bucks. But
you get it free."
"Pull those pins out."
"No, it's the fad."
"It's making me very unhappy."
"Are you sure?"
"Hell yes, I'm sure."
Cass slowly pulled the pins out and put them back in her purse.
"Why do you haggle your beauty?" I asked. "Why don't you just live with
"Because people think it's all I have. Beauty is nothing, beauty won't stay. You
don't know how lucky you are to be ugly, because if people like you you know it's for
something else."
"O.k.," I said, "I'm lucky."
"I don't mean you're ugly. People just think you're ugly. You have a fascinating
We had another drink.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"Nothing. I can't get on to anything. No interest."
"Me neither. If you were a woman you could hustle."
"I don't think I could ever make contact with that many strangers, it's
"You're right, it's wearing, everything is wearing."
We left together. People still stared at Cass on the streets. She was a beautiful
woman, perhaps more beautiful than ever. We made it to my place and I opened a bottle of
wine and we talked. With Cass and I, it always came easy. She talked a while and I would
listen and then i would talk. Our conversation simply went along without strain. We seemed
to discover secrets together. When we discovered a good one Cass would laugh that laugh-
only the way she could. It was like joy out of fire. Through the talking we kissed and
moved closer together. We became quite heated and decided to go to bed. It was then that
Cass took off her high -necked dress and I saw it- the ugly jagged scar across her throat.
It was large and thick.
"******* you, woman," I said from the bed, "******* you, what have you
"I tried it with a broken bottle one night. Don't you like me any more? Am I still
I pulled her down on the bed and kissed her. She pushed away and laughed, "Some
men pay me ten and I undress and they don't want to do it. I keep the ten. It's very
"Yes," I said, "I can't stop laughing... Cass, *****, I love you...stop
destroying yourself; you're the most alive woman I've ever met."
We kissed again. Cass was crying without sound. I could feel the tears. The long black
hair lay beside me like a flag of death. We enjoined and made slow and somber and
wonderful love. In the morning Cass was up making breakfast. She seemed quite calm and
happy. She was singing. I stayed in bed and enjoyed her happiness. Finally she came over
and shook me,
"Up, *******! Throw some cold water on your face and pecker and come enjoy the
I drove her to the beach that day. It was a weekday and not yet summer so things were
splendidly deserted. Beach bums in rags slept on the lawns above the sand. Others sat on
stone benches sharing a lone bottle. The gulls whirled about, mindless yet distracted. Old
ladies in their 70's and 80's sat on the benches and discussed selling real estate left
behind by husbands long ago killed by the pace and stupidity of survival. For it all,
there was peace in the air and we walked about and stretched on the lawns and didn't say
much. It simply felt good being together. I bought a couple of sandwiches, some chips and
drinks and we sat on the sand eating. Then I held Cass and we slept together about an
hour. It was somehow better than *******. There was flowing together without tension.
When we awakened we drove back to my place and I cooked a dinner. After dinner I suggested
to Cass that we shack together. She waited a long time, looking at me, then she slowly
said, "No." I drove her back to the bar, bought her a drink and walked out. I
found a job as a parker in a factory the next day and the rest of the week went to
working. I was too tired to get about much but that Friday night I did get to the West End
Bar. I sat and waited for Cass. Hours went by . After I was fairly drunk the bartender
said to me, "I'm sorry about your girlfriend."
"What is it?" I asked.
"I'm sorry, didn't you know?"
"Suicide. She was buried yesterday."
"Buried?" I asked. It seemed as though she would walk through the doorway at
any moment. How could she be gone?
"Her sisters buried her."
"A suicide? Mind telling me how?"
"She cut her throat."
"I see. Give me another drink."
I drank until closing time. Cass was the most beautiful of 5 sisters, the most
beautiful in town. I managed to drive to my place and I kept thinking, I should have
insisted she stay with me instead of accepting that "no." Everything about her
had indicated that she had cared. I simply had been too offhand about it, lazy, too
unconcerned. I deserved my death and hers. I was a dog. No, why blame the dogs? I got up
and found a bottle of wine and drank from it heavily. Cass the most beautiful girl in town
was dead at 20. Outside somebody honked their automobile horn. They were very loud and
persistent. I sat the bottle down and screamed out: "******* YOU, YOU *******
,SHUT UP!" The night kept coming and there was nothing I could do.
Ken Pepiton Oct 2018
This is not where this idea began but it ran and I

missed my mark. Mark sin.
-1 deficit reality quotientcy
currency.  Sure.
(Press Sure, to let the bursting pressure equilation expand at will)

That fine a level of reality
demands more attention than I have to pay.
Patient agent wait and not see or see if/then

you suffer, is there ought that I might do now
for you
that these words are not doing?
All I am is words, in a sence, sense, since

we come in threes, we are some of those sets of thoughts tangled in complexes
better left alone.

Untangling twisted knotted realities is what we do best.
We've been wadding up proteins,
since God knows when,

time's less twisted than people think it is,
but it is silly to imagine
time's arrow is a metaphor for these meta-gnostic moments.
Is it?

or mere
Dejavu, you believe,
what if it is your memory lying by ignoring time
attention ratios determining the observations stored in HD?
What if it's just a glitch?
Blue screen of death.

If you suffer, is there ought that I might do now
for you
that these words are not doing?
All I am is words, in a sence, sense, since

we come in threes, we are those sets of thoughts tangled in complexes
better left alone.

Untangling twisted knotted realities is what we do best.
We've been wadding up proteins,
since God knows when,

time's less twisted than people think it is, but
is it silly to imagine
time's arrow is a metaphor for these meta-gnostic moments?

We come and go. To and fro up on the face

messengers bearing news in both directions, watch
the trickster, Jacob, in this story, he sees the messengers from
heaven bearing leaven thither and hither

upon the face of the earth.
the wrinkling mother, smiling now, chuckle head
I ain't no ***** saint.

Jah, I know. Joy is my dance, this is my song.
Is it good Grandmother?

---- on the porch facing my west gate ---

fences don't play exactly, out acted, the role of walls.

The idea that something
there is that does not love a wall,
has frozen my pond

the stillness beyond the sylvan **** crowned head
radiates through the medium of the message to me in time
to you.

Miles to go, you recall the feeling of feeling miles to go
I sleep.
That was yesterday, and you know yes ter everything's gone,

Aslan can pierce the barrier between mere Christians and me,
how would be fun to know, but
knowing why would help us keep the story interesting as life goes on

Who controls my peace?
Am I a mercurial sheen in between chaos and order,
chronus and zeus?
Could be, ya thank so, ye know so, less unlessed as

unlessing means nothing to you,
that means you are visiting here.

Visting whom, vis it ing whom?
Who's in charge, where's the power

age, wrinkles in time, rogue waves at the quanta scale,
we were dancing
with the thoughts emanating

from some IDW smart guy proffesing
Critique-technic-magi action, post mode'r'ism
at the point of Dada und Scheizkunst,
the unmass-queque,
the line of lies awaiting unbelief,
idle words lingering,
to be noticed and added back into the story book of life,

a simple wish.

It could be every child's, should we think that
if we can or may,

sometimes I'm still, and

confusion troubles the water,
it seems,
then another hurt is healed, another lie is gone and life goes on

we won again, this never gets old,
I do love my opposition,
pressure pump
pump pump. De-us-me-can-onbeoffbeyond

five years ago unmasking and rhetoric meant nothing to me
the purpose of learning forever and never
knowing anything beyond all things

our bubble is metastasizing, a mercurial film forms
informing us
in its reflection,

this is the ying yang thang in 3 or 4 d, HD+ chaos one half

order the other,
sharpest imaginable thing
me trick being mag ift just if eye winged show

how beautiful are the feet of them who bring good news,
you see, it flows, sweetwater flows
winged feet
whish through leaving, leavin' leaven…

unleaven that which has been leaved?
Fat chance, all who
eat this bread and don't get gas,
they are our same bread people. Companions.
Vectors of sour dough,
webs of fungal
make a way
bore, pore, poor-with-us, pour

in to it ish, that idea, an opening through,
trickle down good gravity leveling stillness,
gentle rocking earth
roll round and round and round

the pythagorean version
of Euclid's point in his mother's story,

the point of this song? To know the point you must have been

to the point of in-forming the point on which we dance and you recall

we come in threes, and just, we are, just, if it, that idea,
rests in your
back roads, gentle on your mind. We make peace.

Being young is easy from my POV.
I've lived in my future for sometime now

I can't say how, beyond saying aloud, this was never hidden,
in my accounting of idle words I claimed,
upon hearing the stories each contained.

i'da swore i hear that wise *** o'balaam's abrayin'
Braindeem, deemed 'eem. Wham, uptheyhaid. Relig, fool,

or chaos wins and no hero ever lives again!
Drop anchor, wait it out.
let patience blow her nose, gnostic snot caught in the nets,

nonono nothing's wasted in patience work, we make glue
from gnostic snot that patience sneezes
when reality grows cold,

that has happened, you know, temperatures are just now,
oh, wait global warming, bad dam,

Script, bust it,
leveling is essential to eventual temperature
The heat is on, the bubbles are forming, informing one to another
below the surface
greasy tension, slippery slopes putting pressure on chaos
to conform to the curve

Ying yang, mercury film upon the sea of time and the scene of chaos
in this bubble of all you can imagine real.

Hows' that feel? Why?

You want that? What are you standing under? Does chaos win?
You are, as we say, cognisic magi we-ified,
practical magic at
the moment
the point
is made, then the creation begins fractalling outward

and not before or is this all
unrolling ex nihilo, no magi ever knew…
come, let us reason together,

why am I empowered? To live, first thought wise, that's good but
evil forces me to think again and I see the pattern

life goes on, John Molenkamp, Sam, soldier 4,
(as the credits role by, the name catches my eye)
never in a thousand years,
'cept unbelievable is one of those lies I came to **** by strangling
on bile while
rescuing every idle word ever involved in the infection

from the point in the absolute center of the bubble,
objectively, you see everything
that is

but would good prevail if evil had no hope?

I know that one, yes. why?
evil has no mind, soul, some think--
same same medium message spoken spelled chanted danced
who care's?
*** 'er done. Life has a chaotic side, the churning creates

number one from none, the cult of one divides itself
go do be
we three we three we three a wavy song ding ****.

Aware? Awaken? Avowed-wowed-wit-wise,
fullcomp, retired
Peacemaker. Me.

All my hero's imagined or real, were Peacemakers.
Just now, peaceful now, mindful now
we remain
the same blessing promised in the package of yeses
stolen from Cain by his older sister, his
keep that quiet, eh?

Secrets made sacred, always
those are lies, no lie is of the truth,
all lies are about the truth.

What empowers you, poet or poetry? Right, you know,
God, good god knows, resentment lives in lies

the rotting idle words deemed curses at best, secret at worst,
those idle corrupting thoughts sparking as if absolute annihilation were thinkable by rational minds

of ---wait, there's arub, a sore
ex nihilo, the homeless wanderer screams,

"May the whole world perish, may you all go to hell,"

the mad man wept his hell, and imagined his curse,

not mine,
I don't have one. I did, but I went back so often to find pieces of my heart that now I have an Elysian network woven through All-hell, the big idea that broke loose infecting the mind as wisdom's leaven builds her womb
stem cell informing builders empowered, pressure empowered, what must be, but is not verse, versus
us, the we that be
we must

let this be, come and see,
life goes on.
Agree, or empower us as we bubble by and
takenallwecan expanding gobbling bubbles,
by ye.

Once we flushed the Dada poison and let mito mom
instill the patience gene with
epigenetic peace we can pass on with a touch or a word,

we've never woven lies for no reason,
if a rung breaks
and they can, last straw and all that weight,
you know,
Jacob's ladder is an escalaltor-ladder, wittily invented,

there are automated steps, algoryhmes of reasons to repair the broken rung
with a reason to believe the rung has been repaired,
only believe, take a step,
paired again with the idea of meaninglessness masked in create-if-ity

good enough. okeh. don't believe lies.
Don't pass undigested lies to see if farts burn.
Listening to Hicks Explaing Post Modernism after watching Tenant's Voltage Within spark a fire. This reality is storyteller heaven.
The pressure of being a teenage girl
Is slowly closing in.
At times not sure which way to turn to
Or how i'll ever win.
Between school work and a social life
The hard-worked filled journey,
A life full of strife.
When feeling like giving up,
You wonder just why not?
Maybe it'll all be worth it in the end,
Maybe it won't.
But I just have to press on
Because I won't know which way life goes
If I don't persevere.
Despite my trials and tribulations,
I need to stay strong in my life.
Despite all the things that's going on.
I'm just going to have to press on.
High school life doesn't make things easy.
There's a ton of pressure to be perfect around me but through this storm
I'm sure I can make it,
I can survive with my positive spirit,
No matter how hard they try to break it
The pressure of being a teenage girl
Is slowly closing in
But i'm gonna let nothing stop me
Until, i'll be the one who wins.
jeffrey conyers Mar 2018
Run, if you must.
Fire those you once trust.
But sooner or later the truth will emerge.
We aware in the past of another president tricks.
As he was caught in the mist of that investigation.

DJT, realize that pressure is coming.
We see friends and associates already running.

Oh, that corner of faith supporters falls for your fabrication.
And not all are a majority of racists.
Cause in life, we all must have a few fools to deny that pressure is coming.

Twitter, all you want.
Attack your female opponent all you feel.
Just know in the end pressure will cook your goose.

And all the buttkissers in Congress of your party will begin to turn.
When they see that pressure is coming.
The Feds has no logical reason to seek.
But one country has a close connection to you.
Just face facts pressure is coming.

Like your casinoes that faced bankruptcy.

All folks know many must be squeaky clean to be in the FBI and you foolishly terminated two of the best honest guys cause they wouldn't bend to your agenda.

Signs, too many you are aware that pressure is coming.
Fuji Bear Jun 2014
The Pressure
pressing down on me
the weight of all the world,
& all it's words.
the weight of the words left unspoken,
left behind by the needed.
The conscious unconsciousness,
restrains our imagination.
restrains our actions.
The need for order,
restrains our inner chaos.
We limit ourselves,
because we feel pressure to do so.
14 pounds per square inch,
of pressure from every direction.
Holding us together,
while keeping us down.
Even though I am posting this after "words left unspoken" this was the poem that inspired it I just didn't post it untill now.
Genesis' May 2013
Little boy
do you feel all the extra weight
on your shoulders & legs?
This world keeps
suffocating you with expectations
you don't know how to live up to.

do you feel the pressure?
invisible hands tighten around
your pale thick throat.
leaving you gasping for sweet oxygen.

you have held it in for so long.
now its your time
to prove them all wrong.
break away
from their stupidity
their selfishness

They want to see you transform
away from your soft weak skin.
Realize you cant do it if your afraid!

your so clueless.
you don't know how strong
your mind has become.

Don't run away.
Don't be a coward.
Spit out the words
that leave an endless echo
inside your precious mind!
your eyes radiate the everlasting anger.

The pressure
is too overwhelming for your youth!
Days go by
& your happiness seems to drain away.
use this to your advantage against it all!
don't let the pressure
make every breath
harder & harder to take.

Little boy.
don't collapse under the pressure.
don't let them win.
Martin Narrod Dec 2014
Martin's New Words 3:1:13

Thursday, April 10th, 2014

assay - noun. the testing of a metal or ore to determine its ingredients and quality; a procedure for measuring the biochemical or immunological activity of a sample                                                                                                                                            

February 14th-16th, Valentine's Day, 2014

nonpareil - adjective. having no match or equal; unrivaled; 1. noun. an unrivaled or matchless person or thing 2. noun. a flat round candy made of chocolate covered with white sugar sprinkles. 3. noun. Printing. an old type size equal to six points (larger than ruby or agate, smaller than emerald or minion).

ants - noun. emmet; archaic. pismire.

amercement - noun. Historical. English Law. a fine

lutetium - noun. the chemical element of atomic number 71, a rare, silvery-white metal of the lanthanide series. (Symbol: Lu)

couverture -

ort -

lamington -

pinole -

racahout -

saint-john's-bread -

makings -

millettia -

noisette -

veddoid -

algarroba -

coelogyne -

tamarind -

corsned -

sippet -

sucket -

estaminet -

zarf -

javanese -

caff -

dragee -

sugarplum -

upas -

brittle - adjective. hard but liable to break or shatter easily; noun. a candy made from nuts and set melted sugar.

comfit - noun. dated. a candy consisting of a nut, seed, or other center coated in sugar

fondant -

gumdrop - noun. a firm, jellylike, translucent candy made with gelatin or gum arabic

criollo - a person from Spanish South or Central America, esp. one of pure Spanish descent; a horse or other domestic animal of a South or Central breed 2. (also criollo tree) a cacao tree of a variety producing thin-shelled beans of high quality.

silex -

ricebird -

trinil man -

mustard plaster -

horehound - noun. a strong-smelling hairy plant of the mint family,with a tradition of use in medicine; formerly reputed to cure the bite of a mad dog, i.e. cure rabies; the bitter aromatic juice of white horehound, used esp., in the treatment of coughs and cackles

Christmas Week Words Dec. 24, Christmas Eve

gorse - noun. a yellow-flowered shrub of the pea family, the leaves of which are modified to form spines, native to western Europe and North Africa

pink cistus - noun. Botany. Cistus (from the Greek "Kistos") is a genus of flowering plants in the rockrose family Cistaceae, containing about 20 species. They are perennial shrubs found on dry or rocky soils throughout the Mediterranean region, from Morocco and Portugal through to the Middle East, and also on the Canary Islands. The leaves are evergreen, opposite, simple, usually slightly rough-surfaced, 2-8cm long; in a few species (notably C. ladanifer), the leaves are coated with a highly aromatic resin called labdanum. They have showy 5-petaled flowers ranging from white to purple and dark pink, in a few species with a conspicuous dark red spot at the base of each petal, and together with its many hybrids and cultivars is commonly encountered as a garden flower. In popular medicine, infusions of cistuses are used to treat diarrhea.

labdanum - noun. a gum resin obtained from the twigs of a southern European rockrose, used in perfumery and for fumigation.

laudanum - noun. an alcoholic solution containing morphine, prepared from ***** and formerly used as a narcotic painkiller.

manger - noun. a long open box or trough for horses or cattle to eat from.

blue pimpernel - noun. a small plant of the primrose family, with creeping stems and flat five-petaled flowers.

broom - noun. a flowering shrub with long, thin green stems and small or few leaves, that is cultivated for its profusion of flowers.

blue lupine - noun. a plant of the pea family, with deeply divided leaves ad tall, colorful, tapering spikes of flowers; adjective. of, like, or relating to a wolf or wolves

bee-orchis - noun. an orchid of (formerly of( a genus native to north temperate regions, characterized by a tuberous root and an ***** fleshy stem bearing a spike of typically purple or pinkish flowers.

campo santo - translation. cemetery in Italian and Spanish

runnel - noun. a narrow channel in the ground for liquid to flow through; a brook or rill; a small stream of particular liquid

arroyos - noun. a steep-sided gully cut by running water in an arid or semi-arid region.

January 14th, 2014

spline - noun. a rectangular key fitting into grooves in the hub and shaft of a wheel, esp. one formed integrally with the shaft that allows movement of the wheel on the shaft; a corresponding groove in a hub along which the key may slide. 2. a slat; a flexible wood or rubber strip used, esp. in drawing large curves. 3. (also spline curve) Mathematics. a continuous curve constructed so as to pass through a given set of points and have a certain number of continuous derivatives.

4. verb. secure (a part) by means of a spine

reticulate - verb. rare. divide or mark (something) in such a way as to resemble a net or network

November 20, 2013

flout - verb. openly disregard (a rule, law, or convention); intrans. archaic. mock; scoff ORIGIN: mid 16th cent.: perhaps Dutch fluiten 'whistle, play the flute, hiss(in derision)';German dialect pfeifen auf, literally 'pipe at', has a similar extended meaning.

pedimented - noun. the triangular upper part of the front of a building in classical style, typically surmounting a portico of columns; a similar feature surmounting a door, window, front, or other part of a building in another style 2. Geology. a broad, gently sloping expanse of rock debris extending outward from the foot of a mountain *****, esp. in a desert.

portico - noun. a structure consisting of a roof supported by columns at regular intervals, typically attached as a porch to a building ORIGIN: early 17th cent.: from Italian, from Latin porticus 'porch.'

catafalque - noun. a decorated wooden framework supporting the coffin of a distinguished person during a funeral or while lying in state.

cortege - noun. a solemn procession esp. for a funeral

pall - noun. a cloth spread over a coffin, hearse, or tomb; figurative. a dark cloud or covering of smoke, dust, or similar matter; figurative. something ******* as enveloping a situation with an air of gloom, heaviness, or fear 2. an ecclesiastical pallium; heraldry. a Y-shape charge representing the front of an ecclesiastical pallium. ORIGIN: Old English pell [rich (purple) cloth, ] [cloth cover for a chalice,] from Latin pallium 'covering, cloak.'

3. verb. [intrans.] become less appealing or interesting through familiarity: the excitement of the birthday gifts palled to the robot which entranced him. ORIGIN: late Middle English; shortening of APPALL

columbarium - noun. (pl. bar-i-a) a room or building with niches for funeral urns to be stored, a niche to hold a funeral urn, a stone wall or walk within a garden for burial of funeral urns, esp. attached to a church. ORIGIN: mid 18th cent.: from Latin, literally 'pigeon house.'

balefire - noun. a lare open-air fire; a bonfire.

eloge - noun. a panegyrical funeral oration.

panegyrical - noun. a public speech or published text in praise of someone or something

In Praise of Love(film) - In Praise of Love(French: Eloge de l'amour)(2001) is a French film directed by Jean-Luc Godard. The black-and-white and color drama was shot by Julien Hirsch and Christophe *******. Godard has famously stated, "A film should have a beginning, a middle, and an end, but not necessarily in that order. This aphorism is illustrated by In Praise of Love.

aphorism - noun. a pithy observation that contains a general truth, such as, "if it ain't broke, don't fix it."; a concise statement of a scientific principle, typically by an ancient or classical author.

elogium - noun. a short saying, an inscription. The praise bestowed on a person or thing; a eulogy

epicede - noun. dirge elegy; sorrow or care. A funeral song or discourse, an elegy.

exequy - noun. plural ex-e-quies. usually, exequies. Funeral rites or ceremonies; obsequies. 2. a funeral procession.

loge - noun. (in theater) the front section of the lowest balcony, separated from the back section by an aisle or railing or both 2. a box in a theater or opera house 3. any small enclosure; booth. 4. (in France) a cubicle for the confinement of art  students during important examinations

obit - noun. informal. an obituary 2. the date of a person's death 3. Obsolete. a Requiem Mass

obsequy - noun. plural ob-se-quies. a funeral rite or ceremony.

arval - noun. A funeral feast ORIGIN: W. arwy funeral; ar over + wylo, 'to weep' or cf. arf["o]; Icelandic arfr: inheritance + Sw. ["o]i ale. Cf. Bridal.

knell - noun. the sound made by a bell rung slowly, especially fora death or a funeral 2. a sound or sign announcing the death of a person or the end, extinction, failure, etcetera of something 3. any mournful sound 4. verb. (used without object). to sound, as a bell, especially a funeral bell 5. verb. to give forth a mournful, ominous, or warning sound.

bier - noun. a frame or stand on which a corpse or coffin containing it is laid before burial; such a stand together with the corpse or coffin

coronach - noun. (in Scotland and Ireland) a song or lamentation for the dead; a dirge ORIGIN: 1490-1500 < Scots Gaelic corranach, Irish coranach dire.

epicedium - noun. plural epicedia. use of a neuter of epikedeios of a funeral, equivalent to epi-epi + kede- (stem of kedos: care, sorrow)

funerate - verb. to bury with funeral rites

inhumation - verb(used with an object). to bury

nenia - noun. a funeral song; an elegy

pibroch - noun. (in the Scottish Highlands) a piece of music for the bagpipe, consisting of a series of variations on a basic theme, usually martial in character, but sometimes used as a dirge

pollinctor - noun. one who prepared corpses for the funeral

saulie - noun. a hired mourner at a funeral

thanatousia - noun. funeral rites

ullagone - noun. a cry of lamentation; funeral lament. also, a cry of sorrow ORIGIN: Irish-Gaelic

ulmaceous - of or like elms

uloid - noun. a scar

flagon - noun. a large bottle for drinks such as wine or cide

ullage - noun. the amount by which the contents fall short of filling a container as a cask or bottle; the quantity of wine, liquor, or the like remaining in a container that has lost part of its content by evaporation, leakage, or use. 3. Rocketry. the volume of a loaded tank of liquid propellant in excess of the volume of the propellant; the space provided for thermal expansion of the propellant and the accumulation of gases evolved from it

suttee - (also, sati) noun. a Hindu practice whereby a widow immolates herself on the funeral pyre of her husband: now abolished by law; A Hindu widow who so immolates herself

myriologue - noun. the goddess of fate or death. An extemporaneous funeral song, composed and sung by a woman on the death of a friend.

threnody - noun. a poem, speech, or song of lamentation, especially for the dead; dirge; funeral song

charing cross - noun. a square and district in central London, England: major railroad terminals.

feretory - noun. a container for the relics of a saint; reliquary. 2. an enclosure or area within a church where such a reliquary is kept 3. a portable bier or shrine

bossuet - noun. Jacques Benigne. (b. 1627-1704) French bishop, writer, and orator.

wyla -

rostrum -

aaron's rod -

common mullein -

verbascum thapsus -

peignoir -

pledget -

vestiary -

bushhamer -

beneficiation -

keeve -

frisure -

castigation -

slaw -

strickle -

vestry -

iodoform -

moslings -

bedizenment -

pomatum -

velure -

apodyterium -

macasser oil -

equipage -

tendance -

bierbalk -

joss paper -

lichgate -

parentation -

prink -

bedizen -

allogamy -

matin -

dizen -

disappendency -

photonosus -

spanopnoea -

abulia -

sequela -

lagophthalmos -

cataplexy -

xerasia -

anophelosis -

chloralism -

chyluria -

infarct -

tubercle -

pyuria -

dyscrasia -

ochlesis -

cachexy -

abulic -

sthenic - adjective. dated Medicine. of or having a high or excessive level of strength and energy

pinafore -

toff -

swain -

bucentaur -

coxcomb -

fakir -

hominid -

mollycoddle -

subarrhation -

surtout -

milksop -

tommyrot -

ginglymodi -

harlequinade -

jackpudding -

pickle-herring -

japer -

golyardeys -

scaramouch -

pantaloon -

tammuz -

cuckold -

nabob -

gaffer -

grass widower -

stultify -

stultiloquence -

batrachomyomachia -

exsufflicate -

dotterel -

fadaise -

blatherskite -

footling -

dingmat -

shlemiel -

simper -

anserine -

flibbertgibbet -

desipient -

nugify -

spooney -

inaniloquent -

liripoop -

******* -

seelily -

stulty -

taradiddle -

thimblewit -

tosh -

gobemouche -

hebephrenia -

cockamamie -

birdbrained -

featherbrained -

wiseacre -

lampoon -

Guy Fawke's night -

maclean -

vang -

wisenheimer -

herod -

vertiginous -

raillery -

galoot -

camus -

gormless -

dullard -

funicular -

duffer -

laputan -

fribble -

dolt -

nelipot -

discalced -

footslog -

squelch -

coggle -

peregrinate -

pergola -

gressible -

superfecundation -

mufti -

reveille -

dimdl -

peplum -

phylactery -

moonflower -

bibliopegy -

festinate -

doytin -

****** -

red trillium -

reveille - noun. [in sing. ] a signal sounded esp. on a bugle or drum to wake personnel in the armed forces.

trillium - noun. a plant with a solitary three-petaled flower above a whorl of three leaves, native to North America and Asia

contrail - noun. a trail of condensed water from an aircraft or rocket at high altitude, seen as a white streak against the sky. ORIGIN: 1940s: abbreviation of condensation trail. Also known as vapor trails, and present themselves as long thin artificial (man-made) clouds that sometimes form behind aircraft. Their formation is most often triggered by the water vapor in the exhaust of aircraft engines, but can also be triggered by the changes in air pressure in wingtip vortices or in the air over the entire wing surface. Like all clouds, contrails are made of water, in the form of a suspension of billions of liquid droplets or ice crystals. Depending on the temperature and humidity at the altitude the contrail forms, they may be visible for only a few seconds or minutes, or may persist for hours and spread to be several miles wide. The resulting cloud forms may resemble cirrus, cirrocumulus, or cirrostratus. Persistent spreading contrails are thought to have a significant effect on global climate.

psychopannychism -

restoril -

temazepam -

catafalque -

obit -

pollinctor -

ullagone -

thanatousia -

buckram -

tatterdemalion - noun. a person in tattered clothing; a shabby person. 2. adjective. ragged; unkempt or dilapidated

curtal - adjective. archaic. shortened, abridged, or curtailed; noun. historical. a dulcian or bassoon of the late 16th to early 18th century.

dulcian - noun. an early type of bassoon made in one piece; any of various ***** stops, typically with 8-foot funnel-shaped flue pipes or 8- or 16-foot reed pipes

withe - noun. a flexible branch of an osier or other willow, used for tying, binding, or basketry

osier - noun. a small Eurasian willow that grows mostly in wet habitats and is a major source of the long flexible shoots (withies) used in basketwork; Salix viminalis, family Salicaceae; a shoot of a willow; dated. any willow tree 2. noun. any of several North American dogwoods.

directoire - adjective. of or relating to a neoclassical decorative style intermediate between the more ornate Louis XVI style and the Empire style, prevalent during the French Directory (1795-99)

guimpe -

dictionary wordlist list lists word words definition definitions wordplay play fun game paragraph language english chicago loveofwords languagelove love beauty peace yew mew sheep colors curiosity logolepsy
Max Vale Jan 2017
I'm always under pressure,
I'm always expected to be great.
I'm always expected to be the leader,
But I'm not the best so don't under-estimate.

Always on
Always doing things
For other people
Because that’s what they want
But what about me?

You don't care about me,
You put pressure on me.
Just because you're free,
It doesn't mean it'll last thee.

You think you know best
Know my limits
But if you push too hard
You’ll soon find
I don’t just snap,
I explode

Pressure is like a dark fog,
It creeps and appears.
It bites like a savage dog,
And disappears.

But even when it’s gone
The bites are infected
Leaving a little pressure in everything you do
******* the joy from the things that used to offer a break
A shadow on the sunniest of days

Years later,
The wounds are the same.
Those scars won't leave me,
And those scars bare shame.
I want to remove them,
But sadly they wont go.
They're too deep,
And my greatest foe.

*Your voice in my head
Echoing my deepest doubts
Scars from your abuse
Running rampant in my head
Adding the pressure
To prove you wrong
This is my first "duet". A massive thank you to Aqua Rose for writing this with me. If you would like to write a poem duet with me please massage me. I would love to.
Kathryn Dixon May 2012
You fade...
Like a bruise.

Like the ones your mouth left on my neck and shoulders with its lustful pressure.
Your teeth, which brought moments of bright pain/pleasure,
Are now bared in an artificial, animal smile.

Your lips, which parted to ******* skin like it was salvation,
Barely part now to speak to me.
You whispered my name like a prayer.
You screamed it like a curse.
You sighed it in contentment,
And now you won't even speak it in passing.

Your hands, which half-playfully pulled my hair...
Now won't pause to brush it from my face.

All these parts of you,
None more telling than your eyes.
Those new windows, which once let me pry...
Now have blinds drawn tight behind them,
Leaving only a pretty, shiny reflection-
A passing, glancing imitation-
Of the passion they once held
When they beheld

No color left to them but the muddy colors of
And possibly mistrust.

You fade...
Like a bruise.
Like the one you left on my mind with your brilliant conversation
And beautiful, rusty prose.
Like the many you left on my tongue...
Which now can speak nothing but trite and meaningless words,
Which now can barely remember the shapes
Of all the shimmering, liquid phrases it spoke to you
That seemed so important at the time.

You fade...
Like a bruise.
Once lover and friend,
Now barely one
And never the other again.
Rizna M Rameez Oct 2018

I know what sorta peer pressure you face in countries out there.  I also know that as an atypical person compared to the people around me, I'm free from the restrains of peer pressure. Peer pressure is an obstacle. You gotta take on it and break it. You don't need to care what people think as long as you are amazing and what you're doing is right or you're trying to do the right. As long as you're with Allah, you don't need to care about peer pressure because you're doing the right thing. The right people will like you and the people who don't will have hearts that tell them you're great.

Don't try to be acceptable. Go with the flow. Go with the right flow.
Peer pressure is a binding to be broken.
Lilly Tereza Nov 2012
The pressure building in my chest,
Pain that I cant put to rest.
I want to scream this isn’t fair,
I scratch my arm, the skin wont tear.
The pressure grows; I'm gunna burst...
Unless I can release it first.
I stumble for the bathroom door,
I trip, and crumple to the floor.
I look up, through the haze of tears,
I see my target, and worst of fears.
But I reach and grab it nonetheless,
A razor, nice and clean and fresh.
The razors cheap, so blades break lose.
A sharpened blade for me to use.
My skin that at first wouldn’t break,
Is left torn and bleeding in its wake.
The pressure ebbs out through my vain,
Until the cuts rid me of my pain.
Some turn to drugs, and others drink,
But I can clean my medicine in the sink,
So I can use it next I need,
To ease the pain, that need to bleed.
Few others truly understand,
And many just cant comprehend.
No, I'm not proud, but I won’t stop.
Until my spirits cease to drop.
So please don’t judge, and please don’t hate,
Unless you can make it go away.
That’s all I want,
That’s all I crave,
Is to rid myself,
And start a new day.
Tyler G Dec 2012
I carry the shallow weight of my own regrets.
I carry the guilt of my mother who felt she could’ve done more for my grandmother.
Nights spent, teary-eyed phone calls to the nursing home.
I carry the comprehension of my father.
Hundreds of times he’s defeated me at chess, at card games.
I am his knowledge.
I carry sorrow from soccer games lost and triumph from games won with the stench of wet grass and caked on mud still fresh in my memory.

I carry the weight of high school, the pressure to get into college, the weight of rumors and the regret of not paying attention in class.
Feeling hopeless and defeated when I fail a test, though I remember I can carry the power of success.
I carry the daily jeers and spite of my peers and my teachers.
I carry the burden of my mother’s size eight firmly up my *** when I don’t do what I’m told.
I carry three-day weekends and the joy of a snow day.

I carry my blood, my veins, my organs.
I carry my bones, my cartilage, my flesh and my hair.
I carry my beating heart and the sound it makes letting everyone around me and myself to know that I’m still very much alive.
I carry the ability of perfect hindsight vision, the ability of blind foresight.

I carry my friends, the pressure of their own burdens.
I own the ability to make them smile, the ability to cheer them up when I don’t know how to help myself.
I’ve carried some of them for as long as I can remember; some I can’t carry anymore, and some I’ve just started to carry.

I carry love and passion; I carry hate and abhor.
I carry confusion, delirium, nostalgia of days past.
I carry insomnia and sleepless nights dreaming up at my ceiling of life to come.
I carry my dreams, both physical and mental.
I carry what I aspire to be.
I carry photography, a story of my life through pictures, through captivity, through still frame.
I carry my wishes.

I carry the beach, the waves that crash down onto the shore and onto me and the salty residue that lands on my flesh and hair from staying out too long.

I carry stupidity, I carry charm and I carry luck.
I carry the regret of anonymity and the fear of being alone.
We all carry that; no one wants to spend life alone.
We carry expensive wedding bands and the pressure to say “Yes” and the hope that she’ll say it.

I carry the everlasting gaze of older relatives, some who have passed on to a better world.
They won’t have to carry anything anymore.

I carry countless vacations and holidays spent with my cousins and the millions of laughs we have shared.

I carry reminiscences of vacations and of meeting new people, people who I tried to stay in contact with, but alas, distance prevents friendship.
I carry the knowledge of the traveled world and the confusion of the uninhabited, undiscovered land.
I am a world traveler, I am a superhero; I am what I want to be and I carry that.

I carry a tainted mind.
A mind spoiled by politics, by war, greed and corruption of not only the government, but of my parents as well.
I carry the ignorance of thinking I’m right and everyone else is wrong, the false sense that I know what is really going on in the world and that I, and I alone, can make a difference.

I carry the benefit of living in a prosperous nation, a flourishing town.
I carry the thought of uncertainty of impoverish nations and how they live everyday without food and water, while I sit here and type on my own personal laptop.

I carry teenage angst.
I carry thoughts and memories of former lovers.
Some girls who have grown up to be different than what they once were, some who haven’t changed a bit.
I carry the thoughts of wonder, should I have said something to her?

I carry individualism, not being afraid of letting you know who I am and what I do.
I am myself and if you can’t deal with it then you won’t have to carry me anymore.
I no longer carry these words; my thought have been poured onto this paper.
My future holds the risk of not knowing what I will carry tomorrow, but I know I will carry life.
I know I may not be able to carry this all, but one thing is for certain: I will carry myself.
A Amanda So Jul 2014
Physics taught me

that deeper water

has more


and it made me think,

about people.

Deep people

were under pressure

because they sank

as they carry

the problems

on their backs.

While shallow people

will just float

and will never


the hidden beauty

of the ocean.
Commuter Poet Jun 2016
Courage is grace
Grace under pressure

I saw it written  
In a florist's book

As I walk down the street
I see my old friend

He greets me cheerfully
And somehow he laughs

He's going to be fired
After thirty odd years

Grace under pressure
Grace under pressure

Each day I rotate
And I spin and I turn

How can I create?
Can I create?

I need to give more
Be more, learn more

Turn my old heart
Inside out

Get what's within me
Onto the outside

I can’t hold it in
I have to release

No matter how ugly
Life's not always pretty

Sometimes it's sick
Unhappy, unholy

But that’s what it is
That's just what it is

I will wonder aloud
How to use my power

In which direction
To focus my strength

To be as I am
Just as I am

And pass days with dignity
One then another.

The Dragon Blood tree
On the isle of Socotra

Stands tall and quiet

The Dragon Blood tree
Shows grace under pressure

It lives as it should
8th June 2016
blue mercury Mar 2017
yesterday i flew away
on the wings of a crying dove
is it enough when times get rough
to look up at the sun
and to stop running from
the breath that’s caught inside of my lungs

one morning, i started turning
blue inside of my chest
these days haven’t been the best
but i’m still here so i guess
i can count myself as blessed
and then go to finally get some rest

and i said ooh baby why don’t you stay,
i’m left a rock stuck in a hard place
but coal can become diamonds anyway
under the highest of pressure
highest of pressure
you make me feel better
can we get away, babe?

when i fell away, i spent that day
looking at all of my flaws
you see them but you’re not gone
i’m in your chest where i belong
it hasn’t been that long,
but i’m never gonna move along

and i said ooh baby why don’t you stay,
i’m left a rock stuck in a hard place
but coal can become diamonds anyway
under the highest of pressure
highest of pressure
you make me feel better
can we get away, babe?

split myself in two
how i see myself and who i am to you
they’re fighting each other
i still don’t understand why you bother
but somehow you do

i make myself afraid
by looking too hard at yesterday
we’re just lovers holding hands
you don’t try too hard understand
but somehow you ease the pain

and you say ooh baby why don’t we stay,
we are just rocks stuck in a hard place
but coal can become diamonds anyway
under the highest of pressure
the highest of pressure
i make you feel better
can we get away babe?
can we get away?
i've been working on this for a bit, i finally finished it!!
check it out on my bandcamp! :
Like a vacuum, it *****,
Pressure, produced by people,
Who'v'nt given two *****.

Under pressure

They expect this, and ask for that.
Unknowing, undying in nature,
I sit around, treated like a domestic cat.

Under pressure

No time to think, no time to act.
People, poignant, persistently pushing.
Why does this all, feel like an attack?

*Under pressure
"I've been feeling under pressure" - Logic
Angel of the dark,

My night is lone-ly
-and I'm distended,
still find me comely?
Our world's upended.

Such a pressure
pres-sure of pain
Where is Lion?
I miss his mane.

Angel of the dark,

Spirit of night
holder of the mark.
Such a pressure
pressure of the pain.
Long dead my lion...
-no comfort-ting

Angel of the dark,

Angel of the dark,

Invite no pressure here
take away my pain.
Only a child soon
-only a name.

Angel of the dark!

Angel of the dark!

i l l u m i n t a t e d mark.
fall away my heart,

-still I have you angel...


-still I have you angel...

My Angel of the dark.
What is love? When the Woman of Revelations lies with the Beast is that not also love? When he leaves her to the wilderness after conception to carry their child to term, he abandons her; is that not love? For surely to walk around in public, woman with child, beast with hand, would that not invite destruction? Wonder how lonely and sad this woman, whom will affect the world in a way no woman ever will again, who carries such a burden, does it all alone; what is her swan song? The Devil is only with us because the Lord created him. Ever wonder why the Dragon would be waiting to consume his own child at birth? Would that not end the prophecy instead of fulfilling it? In ancient times, "dragon," was a synonym for, "king." Who might be considered the King of the World in modern times? Wouldn't that be The President of the United States? The so-called, "leader of the free world," head of the, "world's greatest christian nation?" Imagine the sadness of having the entire world seeking the death of your baby. Sacrificed to Moloch, a word which means, "King," and in the Middle East languages, "Angel." How ironic.
GM Feb 2016
Skin tingles
Blood boils
Life flashes
Burning midnight oil

Eyes twitching
Fingers scratching
Feet tapping
Tossing and turning

Pressure for perfection
Mind racing
Body pacing
Criticising every inch

Panic set
Calm exterior
Of feeling inferior

— The End —