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"repurpose" poems
“20 ways to repurpose a light bulb” It tells me I need to start with a good grip around the bulb, give the solder point a twist and free the brass contact from the wires leading to the filament. If I make it that far, I have to break the insulator and pull the filament out from there. Grabbing the fill tube, I need to empty out the bulb and wipe it out to get it ready. I guess I could channel my childhood and turn the bulb into an aquarium—dropping a little bloodfin tetra in with a sprig of sea-grass or even make one of three small hanging vases to put on my wall in the kitchen. If I want to get crafty, I have directions for a glass sculpture, a holiday ornament, and seven different size centerpieces. The real surprises on the list are the light bulb necklace and the concrete molds for light bulb handles. Here I am, 4 A.M. on a Saturday morning planted on the couch peering at the screen through my Jim Bean bottle eyes and all I see are ways to repurpose this broken bulb for something new—something it should have never been— and I wonder why I can’t just grab the oil and a wick and turn it into what it always wanted to be.
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Feb 17, 2016
Feb 17, 2016 at 12:26 PM UTC
Light bulb pt. 1
Repurpose your pain Create a masterpiece - Art
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Jul 20, 2022
Jul 20, 2022 at 3:24 AM UTC
Recycling
Barricades detach my demeanour slowly… Wear my shades to match my deceiver clothing A kiss of *** good to balance pH mantra …I did some good to malice and got defaced, gangsta…!! I’m a whirlwind and terribly vexed to be mentioned in the same pun as Labour Rights I make the world spin, probably next… Repurpose myself and brace plugs for my neighbour’s lights…
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Mar 4, 2015
Mar 4, 2015 at 4:49 AM UTC
Equilibrium of my Rights and Wrongs
induratize me, just leave that scent behind; at the doorway it lingers, whispering faux truths without surprise. the snow laughs in reflection, glitter haunts a mirror & to say we see as nothing, we find there's constant consistency here. but water is transformation, repurpose, great ingenuity; freezing to create sorrow's surface, melting to break deep rests escape my mother's brain found it incredibly sad, trickling chemicals tricking bodies into reform, skirmishing the soul away from the eyes, to think if I could shake her free. and that's what a love hath done to me, so i wait for the melt, to remember my uncertainty © 2015 Kate Volk
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Jan 5, 2014
Jan 5, 2014 at 11:08 AM UTC
Untitled
Got to remember how the **** to swim before it's far too late- before I must surrender to the flow of things in Time Got to break this spell, got to break free from this hell in which I hold myself captive pleading for a more fair Judge and Jury; Holding myself prisoner even though not consciously, this sort-of Shadow puppetry is forcing me to see that I've got to relearn to swim before it's far too late- to rectify and repurpose all these persistent negative Energies and turn all this darkness once more into light.
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Oct 21, 2013
Oct 21, 2013 at 6:59 PM UTC
Reprise
in our very own room all have fever.. privately we feed it soft egg we closet and build create fabric, like insect mouthwork, repurpose outside of the home dictated by company we have shared madness we tread the weather we institutionalize miss out on the world societies pal traitors to our piracy mistrust our own mind blinds drawn, in fierce study apply to the retooling head clay made better the automaton must bare some animation unallied approach wetter still and fit your neutrons fend now and thrive carry the tune outdoors ?
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Sep 13, 2019
Sep 13, 2019 at 9:09 AM UTC
claymation
It's ironic - you're not environmentally conscious—— And don't forget, baby, you're the one who said you want this You wanna date her, but then you claim you've had it, So you return like I'm made of paper or plastic Crumble me up and throw me away Or repurpose my presence, you wouldn't want me to stray and try to salvage what's left of my shattered broken pieces Keep me compacted tight, make me believe I'm beneath this Shred me, burn me, then keep my remains Just to piece me back together how you want me in your brain One day you'll lose me, I'll become biodegradable, and you'll try to reuse me only to realize I'm not disposable I'm not the insulated coffee cup you settle for when you're in a rush In fact, keep this up and I'll be ice cold to the touch Cut down tree after tree then wonder why you can't catch your breath Dug yourself into a landfill trying to avoid your death Consume me, then remove me, keeping pieces each time But you can take it all, the soul you know's no longer mine
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Dec 3, 2016
Dec 3, 2016 at 7:14 PM UTC
Recycled Love
Somewhere smothered -- In between sprinting feet, And a hazy head Heavy spun with dreams, The image of you - dissolving. Slipping slowly like sand, Through cracks in a desperately Clenched fist, seeping Out through pores, Glistening a ghostly sheen, From ghastly truths. Sometime released -- In between blooming bushes, And the infinite inhaling Of passages - hungry, hunting For fragrance to fill the lungs. Expelling old dusty promises, In a windy whirlpool, Your roots were dug up From my garden, and you Dissipated into clean blue sky. Somehow forgotten -- In between toes dangling, Off a precipice of golden possibilities, And the plunge of faith, To the inconceivable depths Of my expanding soul. A cosmic flight to air me out: Empty slate, open arms. I am slipping into light, Reclaim, repurpose, renew. Back cowering atop the cliff Lies my memory of you.
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Sep 1, 2014
Sep 1, 2014 at 7:48 PM UTC
Forgetting You
The Earth is swallowed by fire then chewed up by carnage, The flames lick the world and then Gaia is tarnished, Hugrgy maws of a beast to our mother we encourage, Unsuspecting till the day that our collective nutrition is harnessed. Life swallowed across the scale Recycle rebirth refuse if they fail, Reform and repurpose review a new trail Revive and realise a line in the tale. Energy is magic and vessels always transforms A glacier to a blizzard that becomes a sandstorm And if you listen closely you can hear the earth move Life can just transform and to humans it won't prove.
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Jun 29, 2019
Jun 29, 2019 at 4:12 PM UTC
Gaia and Fire
We sit in these walls With a million doors pressing closed They close until you stand up and pry with your ****** fingers at least one door open Even a crack can let in the light. Im sick of prying with ****** fingers - I want this door flung open now! Ive felt a few feelings in my life None that didn't do me help None that didnt lead me to this exact thought. **** this im ******* done! Ive discovered who and what Its the where and how thats staggering In circles in front of me Running like the headless chicken That i assume is me But its not Im in full spectrum At least i honestly feel like i am Ive been tricked into a destiny that has no piece in my puzzle And i have to be brave enough to be all my own parts That's what they all fear the most Let be those Who judge you Pretending is the hardest game And im not its number one player I know thats ok Its ok Ive done my mending and changing - as i grow towards my light How do i do all this **** Its confusing Its bothering How do you try sow new seeds Or even mend to the old ones when someone took a great fat stinking **** in your garden? I suppose You have to shovle the **** out Repurpose it into a sort of fertilizer Yet i still need to source the mud & some how you got to keep those seeds safe & the few buds you have, some how they need to stay alive And its wrenching my heart & i want to pull it out of my chest & lay it down in some tool box Perhaps for hands that know how to do with it better.
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May 17, 2019
May 17, 2019 at 4:31 AM UTC
a space to fill the bed
¤ i borrow a snippet of a thought from ezra pound and repurpose it... to make a mothers plea... ..is it not time for us, to remember how.... "to be men.... not destroyers" so that we can give a world ..... somewhat intact, to those in the  following generations is it not time....again
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Oct 2, 2014
Oct 2, 2014 at 8:27 PM UTC
please leave us something
Look within me look through all of the soft spots, sharp corners study every space and piece what do you see? Do you see someone who loves -- or someone who hates? Can you see my demons? The pain and the shame? Do you see yourself? I am a woman product of the white devil proud to be reborn to redefine, reflect, and repurpose myself as a lover of God and to see the light in every being
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Feb 9, 2017
Feb 9, 2017 at 8:21 PM UTC
Conditioned
Can you recycle It's the same as repurpose Improve with your change Brian Hill - 2020 # 21
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Jan 21, 2020
Jan 21, 2020 at 10:15 AM UTC
Life Recycled - Haiku