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"restructured" poems
They say you only know what you're made of when you're broken. I found out I am made of Lego blocks - capable of being destroyed rebuilt restructured from one form to the next. I have been a dark fortress with dungeons and dragons and creatures that crawl out from the night But I have been broken down I have been taken down, piece by piece by little piece, lost a couple of parts, and now is slowly being rebuilt into a treehouse full of rainbows, fairies and happy thoughts Ahh Neverland, that's what they call it And I will fly My one and only Wendy to this new home.
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Oct 23, 2013
Oct 23, 2013 at 9:42 AM UTC
Lego Blocks. Letters to Anne 10/23/13
Flow through, trickle down Bubble up ~ keep your head up. Don't think, don't blink Just got to tighten those purse strings and see what that brings as usurious hedging grows into a bigger thing. Are we hitting the Wall while Street fighting Bears? Are we wrestling the Bull while waiting for a Soprano to sing? Ain't no one ringing that bell as far as I can tell. So I am knowing, seeing, raising IOU's and paying it forward into a restructured karmic debt
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Nov 24, 2014
Nov 24, 2014 at 2:22 AM UTC
Debt
Restructured The fiber of my being Reordered The placement of my priorities Reconsidered The core of truths validity Realigned My moral compass and sense of duty Rediscovered The spark of my life and ingenuity Recommited                           Life
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Jun 14, 2014
Jun 14, 2014 at 3:14 AM UTC
Shapeshifter
Drama queen dreams have been restructured by good therapy which has exposed how close I was to practicing popping. Stabilizers expected to shorten the time between hurt and healing. She said a week or 2 is enough time to try again. Scared straight sane by the threat of a prescription and the visual of the structure of my categories. Troubled by realizations of not loving them all as much as some others. I say "I Love You" more to them than some family hear it from me. Loved, they should Be. Revision in progess. It is my work since it takes much longer to sink in. Real love is constant. I've experienced pain then emotionally reneged when a higher love was due and within my giving power. Make a decision, she said. I am reading the lines instead of marking my dreams between them. I flip closing pages while a tilted can revives a life, once, wilted in my hands.
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Nov 24, 2012
Nov 24, 2012 at 3:59 PM UTC
Limbic Reneging
When I breathe, You breathe. As I sit by this angry fire, I am at war and at peace. Your face lingers, Like dust on a bookshelf, Like the stench of old cologne, But I am no longer consumed by it. My overwhelming desire, Is a distant memory. You restructured my being, A living-lifeless paradox. Your laugh melted my walls, And your eyes were magic stones. Your lips were soft as snowflakes, And sometimes just as cold. Every now and again, I'm swarmed by memories of you. They no longer bring me anguish, Or unbearable tear-filled dreams, But proof that we were real. And we always will be.
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Mar 5, 2013
Mar 5, 2013 at 5:07 PM UTC
Paradox
You know that feeling? When you remember a moment Restructured to fit what your emotions desire And then it’s born Out of empty space Nostalgia, a blue flower
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Oct 3, 2021
Oct 3, 2021 at 2:06 PM UTC
Nostalgia IV: Blue Flower
Remembering My first taste of coffee-- just another commodity standing outside Lowell Tech, a local factory, a city corner in Haverhill snows— a worker's town Passing out leaflets for a vapid Revolution Another action/demonstration to “Seize the Day!” No computers; no social media to fill the ranks of rallies at that time So we froze our ***** off trying to explain with sound bites, frosted breath and fogs of rhetoric A truth-- so tyranic, remote, arcane too preposterous to even process let alone explain Standing there behind its barbed wire reality smoking from its stacks the poisons of its process Standing there Stamping blood into my feet Trying to convince my freezing self my breaking heart that all this truth? was truly worth it!? as I threw my education and my life away-- Trying to convince   ...that inside that building IT-- was being made ****** and that Agent of Death and Defoliation of an orange persuasion so our war could have its way with rice paddies and jungles and people of a browner, poorer smaller bent While on the home-front we filled the mill with unwilling bodies that died somewhere else off site... “Outta sight” ...or maybe some years later from toxins dumped in river left to leach to cancers somewhere else into the ground they sink Through tentacled subsidiaries restructured divestments Legal dismissals of responsibility the players run like roaches for the exits One fast move after another they dissolve disperse morph into renamed ****** entities Clean up their storefronts clean out our pockets while “providing jobs” “investing in community” along the way Putting on a Goodwill Tour Then taking it away “What?  We never said....” We'll take you down leaving only the stench behind
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Mar 6, 2019
Mar 6, 2019 at 3:01 PM UTC
Somewhere Else
Remembering My first taste of coffee-- just another commodity standing outside Lowell Tech, a local factory, a city corner in Haverhill snows— a worker's town Passing out leaflets for a vapid Revolution Another action/demonstration to “Seize the Day!” No computers; no social media to fill the ranks of rallies at that time So we froze our ***** off trying to explain with sound bites, frosted breath and fogs of rhetoric A truth-- so tyranic, remote, arcane too preposterous to even process let alone explain Standing there behind its barbed wire reality smoking from its stacks the poisons of its process Standing there Stamping blood into my feet Trying to convince my freezing self my breaking heart that all this truth? was truly worth it!? as I threw my education and my life away-- Trying to convince   ...that inside that building IT-- was being made ****** and that Agent of Death and Defoliation of an orange persuasion so our war could have its way with rice paddies and jungles and people of a browner, poorer smaller bent While on the home-front we filled the mill with unwilling bodies that died somewhere else off site... “Outta sight” ...or maybe some years later from toxins dumped in river left to leach to cancers somewhere else into the ground they sink Through tentacled subsidiaries restructured divestments Legal dismissals of responsibility the players run like roaches for the exits One fast move after another they dissolve disperse morph into renamed ****** entities Clean up their storefronts clean out our pockets while “providing jobs” “investing in community” along the way Putting on a Goodwill Tour Then taking it away “What?  We never said....” We'll take you down leaving only the stench behind
Continue reading...
65
To die without rhythm   and bleed without rhyme Each wish left unspoken   in coupling divine New heartbeats unwritten   that call from within Their cadence restructured   all verse—now a hymn (Villanova Pennsylvania: May, 2016 )
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Jul 21, 2018
Jul 21, 2018 at 4:04 PM UTC
New Heartbeats
Just when everything was pieced back together, it explodes. Gears and pulleys no longer function as they should. No respect, or decency for an abused harborer of blood. Each time stripped and pulled apart. Restructured with stitches of lies and broken promises. Cracked open by the unworthy. Tainted by ***** hands, and chipped blackened finger nails. Cut and infected, poisoned and bruised. Stupid thing. Crying "love me, love me!" over again. **** it learn! No longer make yourself out of soft, breakable, easily torn. Instead surround with metal and iron. Impenetrable. Make it so. I blame you. I will stitch your mouth shut with iron thread. I will make it so that you beat only to live a little longer. I will stop listening, I will no longer allow you to have a say. You will become nothing to me. I am sending you to the basement, I am taking all feelings away. You will no longer roam free. You will become my unspoken shame. You will be the secret that I keep. No one will come to know you. No one will ever see you again. You cease to exist this very day. I will not feed you, I will allow you to die. I will chain you up and watch you wither away. You don't deserve to live for what you have done to me. I trusted you to many times and now you must pay. I lock you up. I bury you deep. The only link you have to me is the blood you pump through my veins. I owe you nothing. From this day forward you are dead to me.
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Jul 15, 2014
Jul 15, 2014 at 5:48 AM UTC
Betrayed
I wish… for bygone days when folks put families first Not jobs Not climbing a corporate ladder Not competing with the Jones for bigger homes, better cars, smarter kids. I wish… for sublime satisfaction thru the experience of God’s creation Not from computers & video games Nor TV & movies smart phones or social media. I wish… that people did not suffer When their jobs become obsolete outsourced, redesigned, or restructured. When they are pressed into conflicts in their cities, states, or countries For the sake of another’s perceived privilege or personal gain. But the Genie is out of the bottle… Set free by wasted wishes Carelessly contrived Without lasting purpose or value
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Feb 3, 2017
Feb 3, 2017 at 10:54 AM UTC
Three Wishes
On my pony and trap with a pipe in my mouth and wearing a cap I am gaining on evolution a solution I see revolutionary in the eye of a storm laden cloud I will be restructured cut down to base and relaced with the strings of a heavenly bow and you will narrowly miss the arrows of kisses I'll fire because evolution's not perfect and things need direction a bit more perfection and two minutes on the slow cook according to the book written by monks with tonsures and placed into the trunk of an elephant elegant really totally unexpected and something else not quite perfected but we try as best as we can. I feel that Lear lingers near me and peeps over my shoulder whispering words in my ear that's Lear and he's getting bolder with tales of mad cats and of men smoking pipes sat in pony and traps he's quite mad you know but friends are hard to find and you've got to take them as they come mad or not Lear is fun. So off I go with my bow in my hand and another in my hair just to complete the ensemble and they all clap me on except Lear 'cause he's gone fishing for raindrops.
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May 31, 2013
May 31, 2013 at 2:07 AM UTC
Unrelated
There was life before you. There was air in my lungs. ...There was even love. Can you even fathom it? I knew love before you? I knew the warmth of firm hands and the racing of a happy heart. I was no neophyte romantic- You just reshaped me- restructured a fraction of my world. You became my weakest foundation, and when I fell... so did your fidelity. My, we fell so hard. But while you fall into empty arms, I fall into hopeful futures. I'm learning to live again. And someday... I'll even re-learn to love. There is life after you. There is air in my lungs. Why, there will even be love.
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Jul 19, 2010
Jul 19, 2010 at 5:10 PM UTC
I Once Hoped...
like trying to put broken glass back together again-- the scattered shards skillfully restructured into a perfect whole; but not so perfect, really. the straggling seams where the shards were restructured are still perfectly in sight.
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Jul 17, 2013
Jul 17, 2013 at 12:55 AM UTC
Broken
She was pushed, into a box, no, that is not right, she was made to accept, inhuman acts, what a sight, how dare he do it? So much hate and vociferous violence directed, at an innocent, she was starving, for the opposite, he shamed himself and blamed her. Bit by bit and piece by piece, she was disassembled, restructured and her psyche crumbled till she trembled, even her her sleep. There is a millstone with his name on it, he is not alone, that admission makes me not sad but mad, he may be alive, forgive and forget not, before God, to atone. Next stop Hell. To her friends; You did not fail, although you might have those ransomed thoughts, if she was but an angel, you did your best and chose, to help one who was spirited away, you did your best and God knows. I have no other words to comfort you, in this tragic loss.
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May 17, 2013
May 17, 2013 at 12:14 AM UTC
God, I hate being called a man sometimes
These two fold expressions arent meant from poverty where masks are worn at a young age Old white men Gentiles We live in odd times Where we need to be protected from extremist radicals and that includes those whose job it is to protect us The state which when alienated from the populace is an enemy And how can I learn to trust my brother when he may be the one that puts me down? Complexities are disavowed, Scorned by nature as being argumentative And still I have something to say This way we're going wont end in laughter or ******* It becomes a monster of reciprocity Spewing disinterest, hatred - Hey man! Whatever sells! The printing presses dont stop The digital era beacon pulses We must understand That when we only consume We will never have the time to contemplate Our societies, and by that mean our economies, must be restructured to include and value periods of boredom, breaks for laughing, and vacations for intimate ****** exchanges like kissing, clittoral licking, doggie style bucking. Our happiness will increase Our weight will drop And we will find that we do have meaning on this rock
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Dec 3, 2015
Dec 3, 2015 at 10:51 AM UTC
W.I.P #9 Hedonist Dreams
I stayed in the dark Waiting Waiting for you to come back Thinking and wondering what I lacked I tried giving you my all But your satisfaction was way beyond it all In fact you weren’t satisfied at all You left, without saying goodbye And denied me the chance to ask why I heard the news but told myself it’s a lie Until I was alone in our room Standing wifeless in our home With tears raining down my eye If not the chance to stop you What of that to say goodbye What of that to wish you well? What of that to say I love you for the last time It’s my dream one day you come by Just so I can say hi So you will know the person I’ve become I thought of it and now know how If only I could turn back the hands of time You would forever be mine In your absence I have restructured myself And I hope he loves you more than I Anything less, you are doomed Farewell my dear........
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Aug 12, 2014
Aug 12, 2014 at 8:16 AM UTC
forget you not
It’s a rising wave of emotion surging under my skin, and wiping away all thoughts except the thoughts of you; Those could never be wiped away. *And your kiss sparks a flame that makes me forget my own name as I breathe your air and run my fingers through the soft, dark strands of your hair And I think I taste ambrosia on your tongue, the food of the gods sweet on your lips.* **Oh, I cannot contain this, this feeling of euphoria and passion, pure and deep; I do not want to contain it, I want you to see what this is that you’re doing to me: You’ve torn down my walls, you’ve restructured my heart, And you’ve woven yourself inside my skin so that you’ll forever be a part of me.**
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Feb 25, 2016
Feb 25, 2016 at 7:28 AM UTC
Restructured
If we restructured the butchers would want a bigger slice of the pie, greed is nothing new either under the sun or the blue steel of a gun. in for a penny, infrastructure if any has failed and eternity sailed in the Titanic. supposing being sick of the same old things always waiting and wondering , what is it that tomorrow brings to a yesterday but the slings and other **** Shakespeare mentions. supposing Medici could teach me to float in Venice, no boat? no chance. There's only so many slices and so they restructure the prices to cut out the wheat from the chaff and who decides wherein greed resides? not the pauper or maybe he's one with the gravy, the train rumbles on the rich ***** about the poor and the poor ponder on inequality I wander through this scenery ******* it in and unsign my autograph on these pages of sin. It was Wednesday in a suitcase in case you were wondering, unpacked and folded away. I tried to remember the year but the year is now and it's here and how has it altered my views? I tread warily past the one who will betray me. always being friendly also has a price.
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Nov 30, 2016
Nov 30, 2016 at 12:24 AM UTC
Unsigning an autograph