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"reassigned" poems
There lived, beneath a hanging leaf A Ladybird called Annie Who hated being female And daily, cursed her ***** Her voice was deep and baleful Her shoulders, broad and strong By right, she was a Boybird Just her genitals were wrong Her family rejected her She alive alone, ashamed Until she met a Dragonfly ‘Salvation’ she proclaimed For every bug and critter When feeling below par Would visit Doctor Dragonfly In his empty pickle jar Just maybe he could help her With snip, a tuck and stitch She’d not be Annie any more Tomorrow, she’d be Mitch She lay down on the table And a beetle knocked her out The doctor took his knife in hand And bustled all about With suture made of thistledown And sap of pine for glue He reassigned her gender But the best that he could do Was not a lady, not a man But somewhere in between And, as he used some aphid parts The ***** were small and green Annie never changed her name It didn’t seem quite right Her family still shunned her She slept alone at night The only insect in the field With ***** ***** and ***** Even hungry birds avoided Ladyboybird Annie
0
May 8, 2014
May 8, 2014 at 7:43 AM UTC
Annie's *****
Drifting away from the stars 
I watch my decisions sway 
 Look at all this decay I cannot make my mind Drifting away from the suns 
I am confined and resigned 
 My fate is designed
 When the stars aligned 
I am just so blind Drifting behind 
I want to be reassigned from mankind 
 Maybe one day I’ll find my mind 
 Maybe it will be refined, defined But today I’m drifting 
 Shifting in this world 
 A peal in an underworld Drifting away from the cosmos
 Maybe one day it will be clear 
But right now it’s foggy and dark 
 I just want to disembark 
I may be quitting but right now I’m just drifting
0
May 28, 2014
May 28, 2014 at 7:21 PM UTC
Drifting
Selina grew up in an orphanage she was a ******* her father disappeared after the Great War her mother dead from poverty She was a Catholic of the highest devotion she loved Jesus and Saint Joseph and after she was past schooling age (14) she went off to serve as a maid for a good Catholic family she wanted to be a nurse but circumstance dictated that she never could be not enough school, then, when she was 17 the 2nd Great War came and women were needed to work the steel mills and shipyards of Stockton England she got a job painting bombs she signed little things on them like, take that ****** but the job caused her asthma to flare so she was reassigned as what was then known as a postman clopping around the streets happily delivering mail She met a man named John Hartley and she intended to marry him her friends warned her he's a bachelor, a woman hater, but he was also quite the handsome soldier they married after the war and had five children three of whom became nurses proud tears falling like rain drops a life of hardships which she batted away with Christ as her shield summed up by her giving her children what she never had
0
Apr 24, 2013
Apr 24, 2013 at 1:36 AM UTC
Selina the Orphan
Something simple to begin: Your winter coat hanging in my doorway blue wool buttons and frayed edges with one dun hair clinging to the collar.                        you left me with these things. three kisses goodbye under a streetlight                          The first tasted like every flower blooming in every summer, every blackberry, every honeybee at the screendoor, the skirts of every rainstorm, distilled and drank. The second felt like committing something to memory. The locking of a jewelry box, the pressing of a leaf, twisting of a ring; the way in which a muscle remembers. The third was a hesitation. You had already reassigned me as a bedtime story, counting these things like sheep. We stepped over the threshold between now and once. Your coat hanging in some other doorway hanging from your thin frame, packed away in a box until until, what we are now is arbitrary lengths of time and distance.
0
Apr 14, 2014
Apr 14, 2014 at 3:57 PM UTC
upon leaving the country.
I mouthed beer breathed approbation at the invited wonder of your sister's sweatered ******* the tableau set then, for such delicious beginnings and shaky revisions, once I left the "look but do not touch" misgivings amongst the litter of a thousand such instructions I borrowed that hazel eyed angel for a night rescued from drowning in a clear bottled wasp trap the fattened marital photo was covered, alternating friends corrected and reassigned their alibis and frightened lies while heaven was briefly in our sights and we shook and screamed the clearing of our names from every future Christmas list and yet clearance comes only once inventory becomes stale and folds around your wintered house, offers no plan to buy or stamp a route to someplace else slow submissions rattle my pen this is no season for love and there is no reason to begin other than there, in the shadows, where portraits breed desire and while mirrors shall dream of falling I am not through looking yet for while fun and feuds begin with ******* an ending always screams attention
0
Mar 10, 2015
Mar 10, 2015 at 2:21 PM UTC
wish sister
The world above her shined, And wonder filled her eyes. Nothing could mess with her mind. The clouds were reassigned, New creations rised, The brighter the world shined. She laid there as the clouds combined. She stayed calm and the moon cried, Nothing can mess with a simple mind. Just the peace of mind, That flies. The brighter the world shined. The sun fell from the behind The wonder appeared in her eyes. Nothing can mess with her mind. The night soon ended, Closing the girl's clock that controled her eyes, The world above her shined, Not even sleep can mess with her mind. ~Kaylie
0
May 3, 2014
May 3, 2014 at 9:01 PM UTC
The Sky
so..like what we discussed the other day                                        'to feel so infect-able' i mean, cool concept and all but                                                            you said you get it   and-and that's how i feel                                                           you know ; all of the time ... like my brain is open and unprotected                              floods of **** other guys say  or **** i read online stuff doesn't even make sense they're just chewing on a mouthful of teeth                                                         and it imbeds gets right in the jelly and sticks around   and it has nothing to do with anything                         but  i'll spend the day with my mood crumpled                 about some nasty 'piece of shit' directors               behaviour on a film set ... when ...you know it's not even a film i'm interested in seeing and-and there's so much **** right at our front door      we could help with that                                           but.. it's this irrelevant stuff                                                 that's what i'm occupied with am i just that vulnerable ?   i'm an adult..                                              i should function without this damage ... get back to me as soon as you can ;   i'm freaking man !….. you know what ?                                                                                 this is what's important        and this is why we talk                 friends .. in the real world .. you know  such as it is ...left mucking stale turns before dawning a birth pleasing   as drawing in a vital breath or something... ...i just.. i just want it back re-slee­ve me i miss the world why did it leave me behind ? remind me i looked in on it and there's no **** hotel in here no airport lounge / midnite swimming pool /                                            abandoned zoo / empty theatre no hollow feeds of subway tunnels                           no void on anything where's my basic program ?                                  not even a grid of human planted fir trees                                or a giants causeway    or some cellular honeycomb                       or some mad carpet design i lost the pattern tap            i'm off the leash man            it's all a mess              a disarray               organic chaos                 a foreign something       that doesn't want me to connect i want to live like i’m part of the solution but   each day in struggle                                                      it seems i'm increasingly an aspect of the problem i need to be reigned in         and reassigned a post   policed police me        i croon for policing                           i am untrustworthy an emulsion of self deception                       (what does that even mean ?)          spinning turns in quick fix habits i look at these hands   and     if I could dream these hands                  they’d be magicians of value get back to me man ! i miss yupping with you this is the important stuff                                                                         - message ends
0
Jun 14, 2024
Jun 14, 2024 at 2:12 PM UTC
transcript of a voicemail left by a friend in need
so..like what we discussed the other day                                        'to feel so infect-able' i mean, cool concept and all but                                                            you said you get it   and-and that's how i feel                                                           you know ; all of the time ... like my brain is open and unprotected                              floods of **** other guys say  or **** i read online stuff doesn't even make sense they're just chewing on a mouthful of teeth                                                         and it imbeds gets right in the jelly and sticks around   and it has nothing to do with anything                         but  i'll spend the day with my mood crumpled                 about some nasty 'piece of shit' directors               behaviour on a film set ... when ...you know it's not even a film i'm interested in seeing and-and there's so much **** right at our front door      we could help with that                                           but.. it's this irrelevant stuff                                                 that's what i'm occupied with am i just that vulnerable ?   i'm an adult..                                              i should function without this damage ... get back to me as soon as you can ;   i'm freaking man !….. you know what ?                                                                                 this is what's important        and this is why we talk                 friends .. in the real world .. you know  such as it is ...left mucking stale turns before dawning a birth pleasing   as drawing in a vital breath or something... ...i just.. i just want it back re-slee­ve me i miss the world why did it leave me behind ? remind me i looked in on it and there's no **** hotel in here no airport lounge / midnite swimming pool /                                            abandoned zoo / empty theatre no hollow feeds of subway tunnels                           no void on anything where's my basic program ?                                  not even a grid of human planted fir trees                                or a giants causeway    or some cellular honeycomb                       or some mad carpet design i lost the pattern tap            i'm off the leash man            it's all a mess              a disarray               organic chaos                 a foreign something       that doesn't want me to connect i want to live like i’m part of the solution but   each day in struggle                                                      it seems i'm increasingly an aspect of the problem i need to be reigned in         and reassigned a post   policed police me        i croon for policing                           i am untrustworthy an emulsion of self deception                       (what does that even mean ?)          spinning turns in quick fix habits i look at these hands   and     if I could dream these hands                  they’d be magicians of value get back to me man ! i miss yupping with you this is the important stuff                                                                         - message ends
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65
The battering ram of the underclass cruelty had left pocket marks in his dark skin as the quarrelling customers threw down cash just to ****** it back up as though they were bartering against each other for due time and money owed. He did nothing, save sit there and blink. I thought to myself it almost looked as though he was counting each second in the brief flutter of his eyelids. Open and closed they went, up and down, on and on. The two men were still bickering, each insisting the other owed more than he. My orange juice had begun to sweat in my hand, and I was anxious to eat my late night snack. I considered quietly persuading the two boisterous fellows to conclude their business and exit, but I feared what form their anger might take when reassigned to my annoying interjection. Saying nothing, I waited, testing my own patience and hoping fiercely they could move along. Some fifteen minutes later when all insults and insinuations were spilled out into the open air like oil into the ocean, the duo finally exited and I made my purchases, thankful to be rid of their company, and as I left I saw him sitting, stoic, still blinking rhythmically, not a word nor breath escaping his lips.
0
Sep 10, 2015
Sep 10, 2015 at 4:34 PM UTC
Gas Station Observations
I see them there from time to time Slipping through cracks in my mind With faces that look just like mine Only a slightly different kind Somehow we're separate, yet still entwined Yet when people ask, I say I'm fine Perhaps I'm slowly in decline Cause when I'm gone without a sign Someone else is always next in line To make sure our life does not unwind I guess between all of us combined It looks as if everything's aligned But are they really so benign? I'm sick of sitting on sidelines There's too many for me to confine Each wants their chance to outshine To have control of our life's design One little slip, and I'm reassigned It's hard to fight them off sometimes It can be so easy to just resign And let them have their way this time
0
Oct 8, 2012
Oct 8, 2012 at 10:57 AM UTC
Split
You told me once           of the distinctive jingle           that announced my station when I could steal away for a few moments      to speak      to see      to connect Over that long distant airwave You told me I was one           of two           the other your son who you wanted to know was on the other end so you could be certain to take the call I wonder      have I now been           dismissed           replaced           discharged           reassigned      to a lesser status Or would you still get a tingle if you heard my jingle?
0
Sep 1, 2013
Sep 1, 2013 at 11:15 AM UTC
Demoted on a cellular level
Many days we celebrate, from history to elf But did we dedicate a day for ourself? A day to calibrate, summarize our life slate A day to embark, the guided light in dark A day of atonement, to reconcile with opponent A day to cherish, the unnoticed that perish Its obvious and vague at the same time   But prioritize your peace, rest can be reassigned
0
Jan 10, 2021
Jan 10, 2021 at 3:32 AM UTC
Celebrate yourself
Mine is firm. Has been confirmed. And you have made the choice that my love isn't optional. Designed and reassigned directly to you. I'm like that song Ray Charles sung. I'm a fool for you And love to hear you say,my love isn't optional. No choice need to be made. You sealed the deal with just that phase.
0
Jul 10, 2014
Jul 10, 2014 at 10:20 PM UTC
My Love Isn't Optional
when reassigned, the man oblivious to his current privacy calls on his few belongings to become the well trained animals of his previous transience and is carried sleeping by them to a place far, not far with two questions for magic light as an itch in the body of a god whose assassin son owns only what he can store as regret in the animal mind
0
Nov 22, 2013
Nov 22, 2013 at 2:41 PM UTC
procession
Native American, once called Indians were reassigned to a reservation. Slaves, once controlled on a reservation. Many Jews placed within a concentration camp during World War II. In America, was Asian American assigned to some too. But the question remain. Where have they been? To state, they been mistreated by anyone's hands. They have suffer less. But complains more. And for what? Because they don't control things like once before. When have they ever had to enter through the back door. Or refused service at the dining room counter. While they complain about rights being stepped upon. When we aware those facts are simple case of pure fiction. Those that been treated wrongly. Have in most ways been more kinder. Where in other countries? Can you witness Americans soldiers seated with the Nazis? But your own soldiers treated wrongly. They fought them just as bravely. But because of color refused service at the same business. Oh, I must ask? Where have they been? What use to be great in their youth? Seem only great because they won't address the wrong. Some say, that just was the time they were living in. What they must face? Is those golden days of injustice doesn't exist anymore. That they must face society is adjusting to facts. Even if they don't. And as things change. They must ask themselves. Where have they been?
0
Apr 27, 2014
Apr 27, 2014 at 10:14 AM UTC
Where Have They Been
That Crap Same old **** on the account Divide and conqueror defeated in battle Wait till the account folds Client pulls it out we can't wait! All reps reassigned or leave Something better than this We are not made for this moment We deserve better will be greater Unless you want us to be depressed And cry like puppies the account failed There's more to life than sales B2B outbound cold calls Hey buy our service make us rich At first we believed till we woke up It's the same crap as the rest Just dressed up differently What we do next will be better Cos we ain't doing that crap!
0
Aug 19, 2024
Aug 19, 2024 at 8:37 AM UTC
That Crap
I’m stuck in between the two. Trying figure out what to do. I want to live this life on earth. But I know the results of it’s worth. Things happen I’m human right. Then I should have human rights. Live during the day and sleep at night Yolo as a guidance tool. No one never provided tools The doctor never recited rules. As a baby...I was born. This huge world I was invited to. I couldn’t wait to see what I can do. But now I’m sitting here writing to you. Years passed it has gone by quick. Polaroid photograph just an instant click. Images of my past I’m stuck with it. But I don’t regret the facts. Nor can I get that time back.. It’s okay.... ———————————————————— The other half of me wants live right. Walked out of darkness and found light. I wasn’t a witness but I found Christ In me is so bright because of his sacrifice. His life for mines and now we’re entwine. I have a new goal reassigned. My soul is anew redesigned. I don’t need to look back..no rewind. A different me attached now I’m kind. This is not a joke, a show, or an act. No threads with needles...reattached. Like the shadow of Peter Pan. But this is not a make-believe. I’m just a human made to see. The world that God has made for me. Made for us because “In God We Trust” That’s what the American dollar say. Currency is just money and we disobey. It gives us what we need instantly so we pay. With an impatient thief there’s no delay. No matter how much crime weighs. Do it everyday like it’s okay. No ones perfect and neither is I. I’m not getting anywhere..goodbye.
0
May 25, 2019
May 25, 2019 at 11:16 AM UTC
In Between One Life
I’m stuck in between the two. Trying figure out what to do. I want to live this life on earth. But I know the results of it’s worth. Things happen I’m human right. Then I should have human rights. Live during the day and sleep at night Yolo as a guidance tool. No one never provided tools The doctor never recited rules. As a baby...I was born. This huge world I was invited to. I couldn’t wait to see what I can do. But now I’m sitting here writing to you. Years passed it has gone by quick. Polaroid photograph just an instant click. Images of my past I’m stuck with it. But I don’t regret the facts. Nor can I get that time back.. It’s okay.... ———————————————————— The other half of me wants live right. Walked out of darkness and found light. I wasn’t a witness but I found Christ In me is so bright because of his sacrifice. His life for mines and now we’re entwine. I have a new goal reassigned. My soul is anew redesigned. I don’t need to look back..no rewind. A different me attached now I’m kind. This is not a joke, a show, or an act. No threads with needles...reattached. Like the shadow of Peter Pan. But this is not a make-believe. I’m just a human made to see. The world that God has made for me. Made for us because “In God We Trust” That’s what the American dollar say. Currency is just money and we disobey. It gives us what we need instantly so we pay. With an impatient thief there’s no delay. No matter how much crime weighs. Do it everyday like it’s okay. No ones perfect and neither is I. I’m not getting anywhere..goodbye.
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45
Stop Fate The agents go to work The OM sends them home 90 minutes before EOD The account is in the red I know you all understand Check your messages later Your TL will advise you If there is work this week The reps are quiet It wasn’t meant to be so bad Some have been reassigned To different accounts They count down the days Others want to save the account By getting many more sales You cannot stop fate
0
Aug 19, 2024
Aug 19, 2024 at 8:40 AM UTC
Stop Fate
I was your domino you set me up and watched as I fell as if I were a game you had me falling over and over again you watched as I toppled over myself disordering my mind as you reassigned the order that I should fall in once again you stood tall as I fell at your feet
0
Jan 14, 2019
Jan 14, 2019 at 12:04 PM UTC
Domino