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"reacquainting" poems
Solemnly and silent In subtleties she calls to me Falling into my heart caverns And running through my veins Through my body And where I am she’s close to me Exuding watercolor dreams Like a painter reacquainting me With once greyish reality And every morn, I hear her sing In voice that constructs melody As if to say to newest sun To shine ever still All subconsciously And I would follow lyrically Each instruction as they ring Like notes in my mind harboring This subtle, silent calls to me
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Aug 11, 2021
Aug 11, 2021 at 12:53 AM UTC
The Subtle
Headaches Longdays Of thoughtless thinking Turn left at the corner Right at the sidewalk Then end up on the steps of Nowhere Did so much To accomplish less than a days work Stop talking to me Words for hours Actions not seen Your support couldn't hold my dreams Step back Then maybe I could step out Out of crumbling castle you call home Built on credit Not made of material things Please listen to this harsh reality You have to do something To get it done You can't stand in one spot And expect to move on Two devils on my shoulder Full of disbelief Screaming Scratching Prying Interweaving there thoughts with mine But those tides are over now The sun has risen over the horizon And my eyes work just fine Chaos muffled by the beauty of this scene: Braking out of generational defeat To be free Or not be… caged I am(as the hippies would say) High as a kite And I like it Wouldn't even fathom Reacquainting myself With soil beneath my feet Again I say To be free Is the only options I will receive This question I perceive How many field lengths Will I run To overcome the pain and suffering Caused by dysfunctional parenting
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Jan 20, 2013
Jan 20, 2013 at 1:59 AM UTC
Reality Check
It was a good day to be alone, she thought, reacquainting myself with silence and with the sophistication of books from before I was born. It was a good day to be alone, because when I tried to be a grown-up I burned breakfast and just know that any witnesses would never let me forget it. It was a good day to be alone, she admitted, stretching out across the carpet, cats perched beneath me as I attempted a downward dog; I can do yoga when I feel like it.
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Apr 7, 2013
Apr 7, 2013 at 2:06 PM UTC
Sunday
This odd fellow took a long drink at night, rock n' roll long forgot, hard driving, reacquainting unused, years ago seeded, elements of a young man's remembering soul, Hotel California living life, live before his eyes, demonstrated, recalled and well-played on a double slide guitar, so each note of distinction new and familiar, au courant from decades then, now and when-forever the odd fellow listens happy high, drinking the music's rich woven countenance to the thrumming bouquet of a pale white coloration a Sauvignon Blanc newly arrived from New Zealand, just because, this odd fellow liked the name, Supernatural just like the music and the odd fellow is young and old at the same time, tipsy and sober, fresh and forlorn, days wasted past, days made for memories to last, feet move timed to the beat, his heart resonance timed to the beat, the odd fellow is thinking nothing could be more natural to recall the supernatural past and the future natural best to come, with wine, his woman and those rock n' roll songs
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Jul 4, 2014
Jul 4, 2014 at 10:55 AM UTC
This odd fellow
Harvest old love letters Separate timid words like seeds Save those for Spring planting Passion's bulk pull out as meat Provisional muscle is for roasting Adjectives become good gravy Stamps and envelopes licked A dessert of dearest's DNA This savoring of paper junctures Recaptured affection, even agonies Wooers of commodious cursive Pen pushed to olden days I relish reading your languid thriving Though you are long gone Reacquainting these letters habituates Deliveries of your love
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Nov 24, 2015
Nov 24, 2015 at 8:38 AM UTC
Dressings Of Paper Moments
Here it is ... My reconciliation statement begins with these questions: Am I the locus of the problem? Am I xenophobic? A supremacist, perhaps? Certainly neither of those but ... Am I complicit? What did I elicit? Here I am all wrapped up in my trauma bonds hoping someone will help me to see. Maybe I am attracted to wounding. What do I have to do? How am I gonna be? My pain receptor's cry out: Feed me!!! And this is where my attachments are inflicted and this is when my attachments are conflicted But now I've found some nurturing and something new is blooming triggered: guard up un-triggered: guard down I am working through my oppressors and reacquainting myself with allies It was an invisible war and it is no more because my ceremony of innocence is drowned.
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Dec 4, 2023
Dec 4, 2023 at 12:23 AM UTC
ceremony of innocence
In the sea of black Amongst the wash of tears and the hands held tightly The memories Shared by a stranger in a pulpit Prayers joined in for the occasion A curious celebration of life Your best bits Like Match of the Day highlights. Evading the times you cried The times you didn't want anyone around. Yet here they are - how would you feel? Outside, the awkward embraces Of long lost acquaintances Awkwardly reacquainting Amongst the tombstones, cursed forever to Hear the condolences See the sorrow of strangers Feel the emptiness. The hit of grief on the journey home. Hot tears coursing their path onto the steering wheel. The relentless regret Of unspoken truths, lies, compliments and apologies. But the unfailing, niggling persistence rather to have loved and lost. And been a few crossed off calendar days. A passing thought when hearing a song. A flickering vision through whiskey-blurred eyes. A small piece of the jigsaw.
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Feb 15, 2018
Feb 15, 2018 at 4:42 PM UTC
In the sea of black
We are about to meet After what seems like years I can still see your face Still taste my tears. After a sweet embrace and a long deep kiss we talk for a time reacquainting with the prescience I miss The prescience of your sight The smell of your perfume The sight of your body That I want to consume We finally arrive Making our house a home And I can't still my hands from wanting to roam Roam all over your body Over the clothes I abore Then kissing your lips Your neck and more As we make passionate love Enjoying each other And I know there can never be another. No one can replace you It's senseless to try You have mesmerized my mind and already own this guy. You have captured my spirit Yet willing to let it soar Knowing I will always return Always wanting more. M.A. Pijanowski April 10, 2014
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May 11, 2014
May 11, 2014 at 7:56 PM UTC
Always Wanting More
We are about to meet After what seems like years I can still see your face Still taste my tears. After a sweet embrace and a long deep kiss we talk for a time reacquainting with the prescience I miss The prescience of your sight The smell of your perfume The sight of your body That I want to consume We finally arrive Making our house a home And I can't still my hands from wanting to roam Roam all over your body Over the clothes I abore Then kissing your lips Your neck and more As we make passionate love Enjoying each other And I know there can never be another. No one can replace you It's senseless to try You have mesmerized my mind and already own this guy. You have captured my spirit Yet willing to let it soar Knowing I will always return Always wanting more. M.A. Pijanowski April 10, 2014
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May 12, 2014
May 12, 2014 at 10:47 PM UTC
Always Wanting More