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"ridgid" poems
Rock: Ridgid and tough Wood: Natural, eventual decay Glass: Fragile and transparent/colorful Paper: Lightweight and flexible, yet tears easily Copper: Less expensive, down-to-earth Silver: Shiny, allergic to my skin Gold: Self absorbed, obsessed Platinum: Tending to try for perfections or egotistic, ADHD or OCD Air: Invisible and wayward, nomadic Water: Flowing and graceful Fire: Warmth and passion Earth: Round and supple
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Nov 14, 2013
Nov 14, 2013 at 5:19 PM UTC
ELEMENTAL BEING
Floating in my head as I drift into slumber. Awakening to reach and feel. Feel that warmth. Not coldness and tightness in my chest. Breath the life back into me. Breath it. Breath it please. Fear gets us all. Grabs us tightly and is forceful and ridgid to relase. But we can be free if we just relieve. Relieve and retrieve our own life into ourselfs. Just breath it breath it please. Lonilness attacks hard and we can't believe that anything can be strong and steady. Instead we take a step back and plead. We're hurt and yet we hurt another in our attempt to heal. But its not healing instead were stealing. Draining others. Satisfying thirst. Inquenchable. Take another sip its a sweet hurt. So just sip it sip it until the last drop is disipating against your tounge. Sour as vinegar in your mouth. But your soul is tame and satisfied. Then the wind whisps and air is knocked back into your tight chest. And the clean oxygen is as beautiful as the warming sensations pulsing though your blood stream But your energy is drained. A pained soul drinks up. Your heated blush face turns pallor and your extremities run cold as ice. The vice drinks you up. Keep on sippin until you disipate.
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Nov 16, 2013
Nov 16, 2013 at 11:41 PM UTC
So It Goes
Hey hey it's common as parlance to the pathos of the rain and hey it's often as sympathy to the elation in this state Hey it's disconnection to the people in their place and hey it's not often that permanence relates each bead is a lens magnifies the sincere I'm rainbows for water droplets give hail to storms my dear Oh oh it's gone as defiance to the pathologically ingrained and oh it's not rotten to the habitually irate oh oh It's introspection to the narcissists plate and oh it's boughten with gentic smiles by trait each born is a bed frame ridgid and affixed her bedsheets to boredom in covered models of make Hey hey it's common as parlance to the pathos of the rain and hey it's often as sympathy to the elation in this state Hey it's disconnection to the people in their place and hey it's not often that permanence relates
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Aug 28, 2013
Aug 28, 2013 at 7:32 PM UTC
Untitled
Limp, lingering, low it hangs overhead like a nagging grammatical error It hangs overheard like the sagging breast i never looked for/ we chomped at the bit til our teeth fell out but i never liked food much anyhow well hung, but only on semantics rusty, rotten, ridgid, romantic Its starting again because lord only knows I can hold a grudge so much better than a pose
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Mar 31, 2013
Mar 31, 2013 at 2:27 PM UTC
sour
Blue eyes turn the dullest shade of grey Bright smiles slowly fade away Warm touches turn quickly frigid Carefree mind becomes ridgid Heart fading, lacking luster Beats ending, no longer clustered Chest rising less and less As I take my last breaths Mind calm, no longer manic Muscles relax, no need to panic Light fades into blackness Weather breaks from complete madness Empty rooms no longer echo Strongest wills finally let go Lingering dreams suddenly crash As I slowly turn to Ash Cheerful singing begins to drone Sparkling gems turn to stone The gleaming sun becomes dreary The happiest child grows weary Crimson leaves wilt and crumble The lions roar no longer rumbles Ur deepest love starts to stray As u calmly walk away The loudest laughter no longer bellows The strongest winds become mellow Colorful flora losses lush Frozen glaciers turn to slush Blue skies veiled in somber The greatest minds no longer ponder The redest rose pedals fall and decay As I live my final day
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Jul 6, 2012
Jul 6, 2012 at 1:57 AM UTC
Ash
The real question I am asking here up and over the stillness of cold water, I cry out into this vast world Will your amiability bid you dance with a skeleton? or throw her into the *** of the sea given she trust herself enough to divulge herself in meeting thee and from the waters you hoisted my unembellished identity with your feeble hands I have shown you my true self as hard and ridgid as coarse as sand wont you display, your darkest primordial wishes or does it manifest as all that I see you for now? with insights into mortality will you spare just a tear in sight of your own morality for your wounds it will kindle in me a thirst I've not yet quenched even as the rolling ocean was wrenched from inside me perhaps I'm offered this gift, I may very well present a gift for you You lacked the experience to meet me fully through...
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May 12, 2013
May 12, 2013 at 7:36 AM UTC
Bid you dance with a skeleton
4/7/14 Lazily shifting through the internet on a moon milk rain day. I come across a video that relentlessly grips my attention. A man in front of a webcam holding an ice cream dream drum stick and a pocket acetylene torch. Througout the rest of this sequence the man I am watching stares into the camera without blinking, smiling, breathing, or speaking. He ignites the torch in his left hand and uses it to light the tip of the dreamy ice cream. The ice cream remains lit as a cigar. Remaining steadfast in his ridgid posture, he passes the lit cone to his dog. His dog is a female chocolate lab named Gurny of Galil-Bruce-Lee. She holds it in her mouth, but refuses to inhale. Although she does not desire to smoke this treat, she is extremely appreciative of her partner's gesture. After savouring the smokey tastey of the cone for a few minutes. She ashes it out what I think is my knee cap because it is now missing, but to me that matters least. I must see what happens. Doctors can't help me anyway. Gurny reaches into her apparently existant pockets and pulls out the cutest pair of reading glasses for dogs. She slowly approaches a desk to the right of her owner. Quickly sitting down and pulling out paper work and pens. A subtitled bark emits from her mouth that reads "Cray, where is your W-2?" The man doesn't break form. With a long sigh, Gurny shifts through the desk until she finds the paper. After flicking on an old radio, she proceeds to do his taxes, but not using an EZ form. Gurny turns to the camera and mentions that this is how a dog should thank their owner. Gurny does all the math, paper work, and double checks her math before pulling out her check book and paying what he owes to the government. My vision is fading, I'm losing too much blood. I have to hold out. This man must break before me. I will defeat him. I will have Gurny's love. But in all truth, I have nothing. Not even knees for you to make weak. I am what I have and always been. Darkness encroaching in my sight. Give in. He can't see, nor can the rest of world. I tell you what, it really isn't as cold as you think it will be.
0
Apr 7, 2014
Apr 7, 2014 at 1:19 AM UTC
Dream Sequence #1
4/7/14 Lazily shifting through the internet on a moon milk rain day. I come across a video that relentlessly grips my attention. A man in front of a webcam holding an ice cream dream drum stick and a pocket acetylene torch. Througout the rest of this sequence the man I am watching stares into the camera without blinking, smiling, breathing, or speaking. He ignites the torch in his left hand and uses it to light the tip of the dreamy ice cream. The ice cream remains lit as a cigar. Remaining steadfast in his ridgid posture, he passes the lit cone to his dog. His dog is a female chocolate lab named Gurny of Galil-Bruce-Lee. She holds it in her mouth, but refuses to inhale. Although she does not desire to smoke this treat, she is extremely appreciative of her partner's gesture. After savouring the smokey tastey of the cone for a few minutes. She ashes it out what I think is my knee cap because it is now missing, but to me that matters least. I must see what happens. Doctors can't help me anyway. Gurny reaches into her apparently existant pockets and pulls out the cutest pair of reading glasses for dogs. She slowly approaches a desk to the right of her owner. Quickly sitting down and pulling out paper work and pens. A subtitled bark emits from her mouth that reads "Cray, where is your W-2?" The man doesn't break form. With a long sigh, Gurny shifts through the desk until she finds the paper. After flicking on an old radio, she proceeds to do his taxes, but not using an EZ form. Gurny turns to the camera and mentions that this is how a dog should thank their owner. Gurny does all the math, paper work, and double checks her math before pulling out her check book and paying what he owes to the government. My vision is fading, I'm losing too much blood. I have to hold out. This man must break before me. I will defeat him. I will have Gurny's love. But in all truth, I have nothing. Not even knees for you to make weak. I am what I have and always been. Darkness encroaching in my sight. Give in. He can't see, nor can the rest of world. I tell you what, it really isn't as cold as you think it will be.
Continue reading...
2
I carry my heart Even when split As my love monopoly is shattered I cater to the worries of later Tending to the blood shed Wandering a realm of nothingness Seeking the wrenching guilt will not descend Buoyantly moving in Seeking to feel the sinkhole within Before, she loses all hope Before she goes over the cliff with no end Infinitely, dark, cold, and ridgid I travel the sea Awakening the clouds above Mesmerized by unfulfillment Enthralled in a daze, She steps forward The lily turns gold In the valley she has found her home Her eyes close.
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Dec 30, 2018
Dec 30, 2018 at 1:29 PM UTC
I Am Lost In My Head
Take hold the loose and bubbling tongue. Unfetter the ridgid, crumbling flesh Shoved Into the snail's shell. Shake off the jumping fly On the edge Of crust and dribbling sweet. Let the languid breath Float free.
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Apr 1, 2018
Apr 1, 2018 at 10:01 AM UTC
The Tongue
I close my eyes, me ears, my mouth, my hands And become stationary static. A statue of an angry self- Posing as art or decoration. With the ridgid character of rock I turtle myself into an imaginary shell. The world can place itself in the gap between alone and lonely. I need this space To grow; so I won't deform. To sleep without my pet demon growling in his sleep At the foot of the bed to watch me. I need to see the inside of something that I'm outside, And I need you to understand: When I hold you a little too tightly while my mouth travels The curve of your collar bone and shoulder- Each other's names tattooed on our bodies; That when I say that I see you as nothing less than mine, It means not only for now; forever. It means until the last star has burned out and the night sky Is pitch black and dead. It means until everything is nothing. When all that is was. Take it for granted- I breathe you, whether I laugh Or cry.
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Apr 12, 2014
Apr 12, 2014 at 4:16 PM UTC
Or Cry