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"scanner" poems
I'm looking deep into her eyes *Looking into her eyes... is like opening a door that leads... to another door* Wait..really?  OK...I open the door. *This door leads to a long, winding path, like the winding path of your love.   The path leads to a third door* O...K. I open the door. *This door leads to a spiral staircase descending down, down, down,  deep into her soul. At the bottom of the staircase is--* A door? A door. I open the door The door is locked.  The key might be under the mat Seriously?  I check under the mat Nope, not there.  Maybe try under the small rock next to the door Oh for the love of...I check the rock There is a key Wonderful...I unlock and open the door *Inside this door is a large atrium the glass ceiling giving way to a beautiful summer night, the stars twinkling in the distance.  At the far end of the Atrium, there is a curtain* Sigh I pull aside the curtain There is a door Come on!  I open the ruddy door. *You find yourself in a long hallway, with fine art hanging along the walls. Crimson carpet lines the floor. At the end of the hall is a door  locked with a combination biometric fingerprint scanner/retinal scanner* What. *You have 10 seconds to unlock the door before the hunter-bots de-atomize you* What!?  Ok! I try my fingerprints and eye! *The door unlocks and the hunter-bots stand down. In the next room are three vials.  Two of them contain terrible neuro-toxins that will lead to an excruciatingly painful death.  The third will allow you to continue on to the next room.  You have 30 seconds to choose before you are terminated* What the hell is this!? This is the path to true love hidden deep in her eyes No, this is insanity! 15 seconds OK!  Geez!  Umm..Vial Number 2! You're totally dead Oh god! Just kidding.  None of them had poison...was just messing with you THAT'S IT!  I'M DONE WITH THIS Really?  There's only one more door.  I swear ...Fine.  What ridiculous thing do I need to do to open it. *It's already open.  You find yourself in a circular room with a pedestal in the center.  On the pedestal is a hand written note.  On that note is the key to everlasting happiness* I pick up the note *You smell sweet hints of your beloved's perfume and notice the care that each word of the note was written.* What does the note say? *My love: Next Tuesday Only --  Buy One-Get One Free at J.J's Pizza.  Cannot be combined with any other offers/coupons.  Must present coupon upon purchase.  Expires 1/14/14* ...An expired coupon for Pizza? Such a wonderful expression of love! How do I get out of here... You see a door .
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Mar 8, 2014
Mar 8, 2014 at 4:00 PM UTC
Deep in her Eyes
I'm looking deep into her eyes *Looking into her eyes... is like opening a door that leads... to another door* Wait..really?  OK...I open the door. *This door leads to a long, winding path, like the winding path of your love.   The path leads to a third door* O...K. I open the door. *This door leads to a spiral staircase descending down, down, down,  deep into her soul. At the bottom of the staircase is--* A door? A door. I open the door The door is locked.  The key might be under the mat Seriously?  I check under the mat Nope, not there.  Maybe try under the small rock next to the door Oh for the love of...I check the rock There is a key Wonderful...I unlock and open the door *Inside this door is a large atrium the glass ceiling giving way to a beautiful summer night, the stars twinkling in the distance.  At the far end of the Atrium, there is a curtain* Sigh I pull aside the curtain There is a door Come on!  I open the ruddy door. *You find yourself in a long hallway, with fine art hanging along the walls. Crimson carpet lines the floor. At the end of the hall is a door  locked with a combination biometric fingerprint scanner/retinal scanner* What. *You have 10 seconds to unlock the door before the hunter-bots de-atomize you* What!?  Ok! I try my fingerprints and eye! *The door unlocks and the hunter-bots stand down. In the next room are three vials.  Two of them contain terrible neuro-toxins that will lead to an excruciatingly painful death.  The third will allow you to continue on to the next room.  You have 30 seconds to choose before you are terminated* What the hell is this!? This is the path to true love hidden deep in her eyes No, this is insanity! 15 seconds OK!  Geez!  Umm..Vial Number 2! You're totally dead Oh god! Just kidding.  None of them had poison...was just messing with you THAT'S IT!  I'M DONE WITH THIS Really?  There's only one more door.  I swear ...Fine.  What ridiculous thing do I need to do to open it. *It's already open.  You find yourself in a circular room with a pedestal in the center.  On the pedestal is a hand written note.  On that note is the key to everlasting happiness* I pick up the note *You smell sweet hints of your beloved's perfume and notice the care that each word of the note was written.* What does the note say? *My love: Next Tuesday Only --  Buy One-Get One Free at J.J's Pizza.  Cannot be combined with any other offers/coupons.  Must present coupon upon purchase.  Expires 1/14/14* ...An expired coupon for Pizza? Such a wonderful expression of love! How do I get out of here... You see a door .
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71
No legacy is as rich as honesty to leave behind No asset is as great as honesty that enriches mind No voice is as powerful as honesty,your heart to guide No word is as meaningful as honesty to swell with pride. One who adheres to principle and facts , is honest One who loves for-what-than-who-you are , is honest One who inspires to be fearless and upfront , is honest One who dares to raise voice against injustice, is honest In actions ,words and dealings -be clear and transparent Corruption,bribery,flattery and nepotism-be always against Greats endure pain to follow righteousness,however difficult On life’s tight walk ,do not crave to strike rich without sweat. Win over lies,deceit ,treachery with love,respect and fair play Honesty is a jewel that shines-shines brighter,rest fades away Honesty is a bitter pill to gulp,gulp you must to lead the way Quality than Quantity of life matters most,at the end of the day. A child should be taught to be honest at a very early age Set an example by emoting honesty at every step and stage Honesty instils compassion ,concern,credibility and courage It is a virtue that differentiates between a devil and a sage. Stakes may be high ,don’t ever compromise on values A Right can never ever be Wrong ,however one views Forever under HIS scanner,keep hands clean and heart true (HIS ...GOD) Give best to the humanity the best will come back to you. (C) Bhargavi Ravindra ...........B’lore Dated : 09/05/2019
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Oct 11, 2019
Oct 11, 2019 at 7:13 AM UTC
Honesty
Here at Kinkos We have a saying, “copies of copies” You are trained to always ask for a source file The digital file of the picture the camera took The negatives of digital cameras You see because when you print a picture from that file it’s the best it will ever be Every detail captured in that moment stored in bits and bytes ready If you make a copy of that picture it will never be as good And if you make a copy of that copy it’ll be even worse And if you were to make a copy of the hundredth copy of the ninety ninth copy you might not even recognize the image Whether it’s a speck of dust on the scanner Or a crease in the print out Sun stains from prolonged exposure to the elements Or simply from time Copies never look as good as the original Even if you try and protect them And even if you were to magically protect that photo from any external forces The next copy still won’t be the same quality A scanner can never pick up every detail from the print on the glass Copies of copies are never the same Sometimes the printer is calibrated different Sometimes it’s a heavy magenta day Sometimes it’s a saturated cyan day Maybe you touched her face when you handed it over And now every copy has a feint of your thumb print above her eyebrow You had him taped to your rearview mirror for a whole year And now every copy you make has a glare where the tape used to be It blocks out his heart shaped hands he was making you from the bus window Folded in your wallet and now all the copies have white spaces where her face was I mean where the creases were I’ve heard that when you remember something you are simply remembering the last time you remembered it Memories of memories So that after you’ve remembered her a thousand times you’ve forgotten all the details you forgot to remember the time before So that the more you remember something, the faster you’ll forget Maybe that’s why we forget exes faster than family Maybe that’s why we forget the great parts of high school before the painful ones I remember that you had red hair, that your eyes were kind, that your hands fit my cheek I remember that you were bad at pool and that it felt like love, and if it wasn’t you’re the only one that knew it And now I’m wondering after all these years what I’m forgetting to remember What I forgot to remember last time What did I forget this time What won’t I remember next time Memories of memories Like copies of copies Fading over time If I never wanted to forget the best moments of my life Should I never remember them Is the fastest way to forget the bad ones To remember them often
0
Dec 17, 2015
Dec 17, 2015 at 11:46 PM UTC
Copies of Copies
Here at Kinkos We have a saying, “copies of copies” You are trained to always ask for a source file The digital file of the picture the camera took The negatives of digital cameras You see because when you print a picture from that file it’s the best it will ever be Every detail captured in that moment stored in bits and bytes ready If you make a copy of that picture it will never be as good And if you make a copy of that copy it’ll be even worse And if you were to make a copy of the hundredth copy of the ninety ninth copy you might not even recognize the image Whether it’s a speck of dust on the scanner Or a crease in the print out Sun stains from prolonged exposure to the elements Or simply from time Copies never look as good as the original Even if you try and protect them And even if you were to magically protect that photo from any external forces The next copy still won’t be the same quality A scanner can never pick up every detail from the print on the glass Copies of copies are never the same Sometimes the printer is calibrated different Sometimes it’s a heavy magenta day Sometimes it’s a saturated cyan day Maybe you touched her face when you handed it over And now every copy has a feint of your thumb print above her eyebrow You had him taped to your rearview mirror for a whole year And now every copy you make has a glare where the tape used to be It blocks out his heart shaped hands he was making you from the bus window Folded in your wallet and now all the copies have white spaces where her face was I mean where the creases were I’ve heard that when you remember something you are simply remembering the last time you remembered it Memories of memories So that after you’ve remembered her a thousand times you’ve forgotten all the details you forgot to remember the time before So that the more you remember something, the faster you’ll forget Maybe that’s why we forget exes faster than family Maybe that’s why we forget the great parts of high school before the painful ones I remember that you had red hair, that your eyes were kind, that your hands fit my cheek I remember that you were bad at pool and that it felt like love, and if it wasn’t you’re the only one that knew it And now I’m wondering after all these years what I’m forgetting to remember What I forgot to remember last time What did I forget this time What won’t I remember next time Memories of memories Like copies of copies Fading over time If I never wanted to forget the best moments of my life Should I never remember them Is the fastest way to forget the bad ones To remember them often
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49
Last night they checked my garbage can. It’s a good thing that I have a shredder. My cell phones records are of interest- I’ve made calls to known “tea baggers”. Warrant-less “burglaries” have been made, then I find my screen door broken. The I.R.S. just called again my case has been “ reopened”. On every airline trip I take I’m “Caressed “by the T.S.A. I’m almost ready for a cigarette after they’ve had their way. Such harassment is “kinder spiel” compared to what comes next. They have a “brain wave” scanner that can translate thoughts to text. So I wear a cap of aluminum foil whenever I’m on American soil. To protect my ideas before they find them I always make sure to copyright them.
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Jan 16, 2012
Jan 16, 2012 at 8:18 AM UTC
The Thought Police will see you now
This is Almost all. Cereal. 12 bites chocolate koala crispies Chris along with some horizon fat-free organic milk but again 12 bytes. Short stack flapjacks Safeway maple syrup drenching it. Patrick's IRA send it One hot fudge sundae from McDonald's one half bite of hot fudge. Six bytes of salsa recipe. Four microwaved Chinese potstickers Some HighC orange lovers I also ate Mark's soup 25 Cheetos Xcessive? I also ate some of my accent. One can Wolfgang Puck used as a base added some roasted breast chopped roughly 2 wings scanner on onion red rock refrigerator did an onion rings tile cut. Think I know I'm sorry sweetie they are kind.
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May 9, 2014
May 9, 2014 at 12:50 AM UTC
What Chloe ate for Mayday 2014
I painstakingly cut off my fingertips screaming as I dug out the microprocessors so we could live free from their scanner grids The whir of drones overhead provide an ironically soothing white noise as we spend the night huddled together in a ravine The truth is I'm not afraid of them finding us and launching our firebomb execution so much as I'm afraid you might want at some point to see other people
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Mar 6, 2014
Mar 6, 2014 at 1:46 PM UTC
Hopeless Romanticism In the Age of Dystopia
Or is it? (sonnet #MMMMMMCCXXXIX) Yes, anime as from a distance' frail Note comes to hail me on my own phone hence-- Which brother's taste cavorting gaily thence Like to a happy air I cherish? pale As liking by mere halves what plays for bail Now in the background. Lo, and for intents Sis can make calls, whilst oh! don't ask me whence, But add the p'lice erm, scanner too, to scale. If only oh, the LORD would e'er and fer All time take care of little me. I do Not know how to whatever, though tis poor, Ye say, to fess't? My brother's old phone too, They set it up for me, and how we tour Their favrite stuff thereon. Fun like few knew. 02Apr17b
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Apr 15, 2017
Apr 15, 2017 at 12:49 AM UTC
Someone Teach Tia "It's NOT a Toy"
Sometimes I steal from grocery stores. Nothing serious of course, sprigs of cilantro, basil, snap garlic cloves, sleeve a single strip of green onion, occasionally, palm a jalapeno I think it is the tiny thrills of being a petty villain that provokes me. The warm slick sheen of salty palms, brow sweat, and the shivers of pulse that drums my heart when door greeters pull me aside to verify receipts, and never notice my aroused pockets tight and bulging pickpocket produce. I'm no outlaw nor bandit, I do not pillage or plunder, I know the gray lines that divide good and bad, because I'm at one of their thresholds. The cashier checks my driver license, and address before feeding a worthless check into the scanner where it gets tagged and stamped I feel no thrills, no bad boy euphoria, I am too numb for elation, and too numb for shame. This crime Is justified. I have three more days till payday and hope the check floats Last week was a short paycheck, gas prices are high, rent is past due cigarettes aren't cheap, and then there's that drug habit. I could only write it for twenty five over. It's going to be a hard stretch. I stuff easy cash into my front pocket and try to catch the eye of a pretty cashier an aisle over. She drags barcodes through laser red eyes that decodes sale prices She doesn't notice me, but she might not be into bad boys A small girl waits in a shopping cart with pigtails and new teeth, holding a children cereal that comes with a prize. Her mother does not see her kick off her shoe.
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May 30, 2013
May 30, 2013 at 7:24 PM UTC
Bad Check
Sometimes I steal from grocery stores. Nothing serious of course, sprigs of cilantro, basil, snap garlic cloves, sleeve a single strip of green onion, occasionally, palm a jalapeno I think it is the tiny thrills of being a petty villain that provokes me. The warm slick sheen of salty palms, brow sweat, and the shivers of pulse that drums my heart when door greeters pull me aside to verify receipts, and never notice my aroused pockets tight and bulging pickpocket produce. I'm no outlaw nor bandit, I do not pillage or plunder, I know the gray lines that divide good and bad, because I'm at one of their thresholds. The cashier checks my driver license, and address before feeding a worthless check into the scanner where it gets tagged and stamped I feel no thrills, no bad boy euphoria, I am too numb for elation, and too numb for shame. This crime Is justified. I have three more days till payday and hope the check floats Last week was a short paycheck, gas prices are high, rent is past due cigarettes aren't cheap, and then there's that drug habit. I could only write it for twenty five over. It's going to be a hard stretch. I stuff easy cash into my front pocket and try to catch the eye of a pretty cashier an aisle over. She drags barcodes through laser red eyes that decodes sale prices She doesn't notice me, but she might not be into bad boys A small girl waits in a shopping cart with pigtails and new teeth, holding a children cereal that comes with a prize. Her mother does not see her kick off her shoe.
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67
Expressionless she didn't feel the need to greet me or to look in my direction just let the high pitched beeping of the scanner fill the emptiness and motivate her mechanic movements packing the produce into red plastic bags unflinching impatience was evident and yet she remained expressionless as I foolishly pressed the wrong button under the weight of her gaze on my stiff fingers until she printed the receipt Just then in the clear plastic bag one jalapeño the special - pound for two dollars just then she catches it and under my watchful gaze I hear that beep again but now a quiet chuckle fills the gap as the machine reads 0.01$ So I laugh too fumble for a cent and put it carefully in her palm
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Sep 26, 2016
Sep 26, 2016 at 1:25 AM UTC
An Ode to the Free Market
there are old receipts from the self scanner at the library- i kept them there as a simple memoir of all the books i used to read and it's not that i don't enjoy reading books i just haven't got the time because the adult world likes to chew you up and then spit you out again
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Mar 26, 2014
Mar 26, 2014 at 8:05 PM UTC
books!!!!!!! the library!!!!!!!
the surgical procedure required to probe into your skull is way too difficult for me. how difficult is it to learn how to examine the thoughts you conjure up, like arithmetic or magic. the stem cutters to pull the dead roots out of you are dull, like the color of dead coral or fishes that don't see sunlight. maybe the fishes just don't swim to the surface too often. if i would have seen your arsenal and armory before i dedicated every inch of my pointless existence of a heart to you, every hour of my life wouldn't hold disdain and regret for you. the only difference between us and a car crash was that the shrapnel and glass was our shattered memories. the hairline fractures that are burned into my wrist's bones have turned into full blown fragments eradicated from the ligaments. i've seen fall, winter, spring, and summer meet all in the same day because of you. you are an impossible calculation, a lobotomy no pet scanner can recognize. - kra
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May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 7:20 PM UTC
hairline fractures
The scanner is my weapon I wield it with authority And power. BAM! $7.95 POW! $20.65 ZAP! Your entire soul! They give me what I demand And leave with The tail end of the bargain.
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May 31, 2010
May 31, 2010 at 6:13 AM UTC
laser retail
My fingers are birds flying over white and black taking steps, whole and half My foot is a pedal press it, change the sound My eyes are a barcode scanner that see repeated change My body is a metronome swaying side to side While notes and chords fill my head's inside
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Feb 21, 2015
Feb 21, 2015 at 11:48 PM UTC
The Pianist's Chant
Books to the library photos to family. Paint cans and lumber from renovations years ago. Most of the furniture including the piano. Fastest way to do this is rent a dumpster. On the internet nothing’s permanent. I like that. Photosynthesis, evaporation as if your spirit disappears when the sun appears. It’s a burden lifted not to have to persevere. Edits for clarity and brevity. One owes the reader a respite from the tonnage of fructifying English. To drown one’s book is devoutly to be wished. Coupla trumpets, big comfy couch, four beds and dressers and the contents of closets. Tools we don’t use, surge protectors and chargers, lawn and patio accoutrements, table settings for ten. Lamplit underground, the stray branch, synchronized chaos, a red fez. One canary, map of Antarctica, three deaf little otoliths, six or seven sybils. Extra salt and pepper shakers, sharpies and crayons, a printer and a scanner, the Bible and Koran. Kaput calculators and computers, subscriptions and prescriptions, a host of vitamins and the ghosts of ancestors. Time itself but not nature. Wealth and most of culture but not my health. That I’ll keep, and sleep—practice for perfect rest.
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Mar 19, 2024
Mar 19, 2024 at 6:54 AM UTC
Gotta Go
drones wrapped up in the expansive botnet of this black facility prone to repeat all of last week's protocol in sequence and without passion (the big guy enforces it all) I'm bored eye-scanner rejects me twice fingerprint authentication prove who I am beat that proof into the day a cup of Joe at lunch half crop-circles under these eyes yet you'll still hear me say I'm bored. the beat goes on, the beat goes on the singsong klak-ing of whatever whatever a beautiful voice comes over the speakers ironic she's the only one talking and it's a pamphlet talk about where we all already work. I'm bored.
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May 14, 2012
May 14, 2012 at 1:10 PM UTC
Facility
Da queste parti .siamo tutti circa il vestito bianco;questo non è un segreto .Ma oggi ?Stiamo celebrando i nostri ragazzi !SMPers .lasciate che vi presento clothier personalizzato .Alton Lane.Dotato di abiti da sposa on line sposi e dei loro ragazzi un processo di adattamento e di divertimento senza stress .sta preparando per il grande giorno è appena diventato infinitamente più facile ! C'è così tanto per amore di Alton Lane;iniziando con laid-back .appuntamenti privati ​​per gli sposi + i loro ragazzi dove ognuno si misura e montato .il tutto sorseggiando un drink .sdraiati su un comodo divano e guardare la partita sul grande schermo piatto .Con showroom a Dallas .New York .DC .Boston .Richmond + più a venire .Alton Lane.riduce la necessità di raccordi con l'uso del loro top di gamma tecnologia 3D body scanner !Un consulente personale farà in modo che la misura è giusta e avrete consigli su opzioni di personalizzazione come il taglio .sfiati .pieghe .monogrammi e colore rivestimentoètutti che è incluso nel prezzo base!Con camicie a abiti da sposa 2014 partire da 89 dollari e abiti abiti da sposa on line a solo $ 595.personalizzate non è mai stato così conveniente . Con una straordinaria selezione di colori dei tessuti e pesi .Alton Lane.ha coperto se stai andando cravatta sulla spiaggia casuale o nero.Head over qui per suggerimenti personalizzati della Guida look e donè èperdere alcuni dei Alton Lane ' matrimoni reali presenti ! Photo Credits : Fotografia Ciao Amore | Brooke Fitts | Melissa Grimes - Guy Fotografia Ciao Fotografia L'amore è un membro del nostro Little Black Book .Scopri come i membri sono scelti visitando la nostra pagina delle FAQ .Ciao Amore Fotografia VIEW http://188.138.88.219/images_ld/td//t35/product_thumb/1/1632635353535_394716.jpeg http://www.belloabito.com/abiti-da-sposa-c-1 http://www.belloabito.com/abiti-da-sposa-2014-c-13
0
Jul 18, 2014
Jul 18, 2014 at 9:54 PM UTC
Abiti personalizzati + smoking di Alton Lan_vestiti da sposa
Da queste parti .siamo tutti circa il vestito bianco;questo non è un segreto .Ma oggi ?Stiamo celebrando i nostri ragazzi !SMPers .lasciate che vi presento clothier personalizzato .Alton Lane.Dotato di abiti da sposa on line sposi e dei loro ragazzi un processo di adattamento e di divertimento senza stress .sta preparando per il grande giorno è appena diventato infinitamente più facile ! C'è così tanto per amore di Alton Lane;iniziando con laid-back .appuntamenti privati ​​per gli sposi + i loro ragazzi dove ognuno si misura e montato .il tutto sorseggiando un drink .sdraiati su un comodo divano e guardare la partita sul grande schermo piatto .Con showroom a Dallas .New York .DC .Boston .Richmond + più a venire .Alton Lane.riduce la necessità di raccordi con l'uso del loro top di gamma tecnologia 3D body scanner !Un consulente personale farà in modo che la misura è giusta e avrete consigli su opzioni di personalizzazione come il taglio .sfiati .pieghe .monogrammi e colore rivestimentoètutti che è incluso nel prezzo base!Con camicie a abiti da sposa 2014 partire da 89 dollari e abiti abiti da sposa on line a solo $ 595.personalizzate non è mai stato così conveniente . Con una straordinaria selezione di colori dei tessuti e pesi .Alton Lane.ha coperto se stai andando cravatta sulla spiaggia casuale o nero.Head over qui per suggerimenti personalizzati della Guida look e donè èperdere alcuni dei Alton Lane ' matrimoni reali presenti ! Photo Credits : Fotografia Ciao Amore | Brooke Fitts | Melissa Grimes - Guy Fotografia Ciao Fotografia L'amore è un membro del nostro Little Black Book .Scopri come i membri sono scelti visitando la nostra pagina delle FAQ .Ciao Amore Fotografia VIEW http://188.138.88.219/images_ld/td//t35/product_thumb/1/1632635353535_394716.jpeg http://www.belloabito.com/abiti-da-sposa-c-1 http://www.belloabito.com/abiti-da-sposa-2014-c-13
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9
All my poems just sit waiting unwritten impulses of some things midway between my brain and my eyes to get one I sit back in my Barcalounger and pretend my head is in an MRI machine with the laser scanner looking I pay the closest attention silently mindful of how much I think and feel about what I see and then a poem says you never saw that feeling you never felt that vision you just keep running from one stimulus to another like a person who cannot write you need a bigger Barcalounger.
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Aug 20, 2012
Aug 20, 2012 at 2:47 PM UTC
WHERE MY POEMS ARE
Give the suckers what they want. PT Barnum Vibrating condoms that stay hard when you can't. Pigeons that don't **** Invisibility cloaks. Parents with a mute button. Happy nightmares. Politicians with Pinnochio noses. A blow job app. Self-repairing cars. Seduction lie detector. A time machine. Mind reading headset. Hope. ****** pills. Portable STD scanner. Edible cups. Gourmet cook robot. Sincerity meter. Honesty. Gun gloves. X-ray specs, Teleporter. Laughter. Anti-loneliness inhaler. Broken heart tape. Complete do it yourself dental care kit. Many other brightly colored useless objects. Find an Angel. Do a start-up. Go public. The American Dream: have more money than god.   ~mce
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Mar 8, 2016
Mar 8, 2016 at 10:50 AM UTC
A Few Product Ideas For Getting Rich
(Warning - quite a sad poem) ------------------------------------------- This is the worst thing that has ever happened to me. In a room full of strangers, the most important stranger Squirts cold and smelly jelly on my slightly rounded belly. I smile, everything's comical. You read about these moments, And we've waited in a fever of anticipation. Excited by the chance to send out a photo, We clutch the required three quid, And crane our head around medical students, Three nurses, and the all important doctor, Ultrasound expert - I've just remembered, his name was Jesus. The screen is blurry, dark, morphing into Alien shapes. Shifting, sorting, I smile indulgently At the grainy haze, All to be expected, Sometimes, the photo's don't even look like a baby, but - There's a silence And then something in the room shifts, Nurse and scanner share a glance, The students remain glazed, this is the seventh of the day And they don't know enough, to know a thing, But those who know, know, And suddenly, I know. There is no baby on that screen, Because there is no baby. Questions remain to be asked, Am I sure of my dates? The pregnancy looks younger... But I know Even before they fail to find a heartbeat, And have already retreated Into oblivion, Where I will remain Through the ensuing operation, And for months beyond. I cry, I cry, I cry, endlessly, Wondering why. This happens to many. I have shared their stories, since. But you cannot know, until you know. That's the worst place, so far, I have ever had to go.
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Oct 5, 2013
Oct 5, 2013 at 2:32 PM UTC
November, 2007
(Warning - quite a sad poem) ------------------------------------------- This is the worst thing that has ever happened to me. In a room full of strangers, the most important stranger Squirts cold and smelly jelly on my slightly rounded belly. I smile, everything's comical. You read about these moments, And we've waited in a fever of anticipation. Excited by the chance to send out a photo, We clutch the required three quid, And crane our head around medical students, Three nurses, and the all important doctor, Ultrasound expert - I've just remembered, his name was Jesus. The screen is blurry, dark, morphing into Alien shapes. Shifting, sorting, I smile indulgently At the grainy haze, All to be expected, Sometimes, the photo's don't even look like a baby, but - There's a silence And then something in the room shifts, Nurse and scanner share a glance, The students remain glazed, this is the seventh of the day And they don't know enough, to know a thing, But those who know, know, And suddenly, I know. There is no baby on that screen, Because there is no baby. Questions remain to be asked, Am I sure of my dates? The pregnancy looks younger... But I know Even before they fail to find a heartbeat, And have already retreated Into oblivion, Where I will remain Through the ensuing operation, And for months beyond. I cry, I cry, I cry, endlessly, Wondering why. This happens to many. I have shared their stories, since. But you cannot know, until you know. That's the worst place, so far, I have ever had to go.
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49
You need a compression Of the mind You need effemeral To hide your signs Stop their intrusion In your special brain Control your alphawaves In the psychic sparring room A telepathic link Can slow his heart Or with wrath You can blow his head apart *"My art My art keeps me sane... My art..."*
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Apr 1, 2011
Apr 1, 2011 at 1:09 PM UTC
Scanner
Hold on to the mixing bowl Let the spoon change your place Forfeit all control Before you're stuck in place Exist here and there Let your guard down Exist everywhere Go another round When you're with the A's Don't forget the Q's Learn from everyone Let them affect you There's a whole world out there for you you've gotta unfurl before you're blue Following the lines Living the lies Doing what you're told Makes the mold Dip your body in Different swimming pools Keep one social group Is an awful rule Moldy barriers Oppress vividness All these different folks Combat my emptiness I don't really care About how it sounds I love everyone Never lets me down There's a whole world out there for you you've gotta unfurl before you're blue Following the lines Living the lies Doing what you're told Makes the mold I ran up on a trash can Deposited my best clothes Withdrew my new wardrobe Interesting info Generic attire That's my heart's desire Nobody to hide from Indicates my income Walk up to my best friend Laying back in class With these special provisions I can access the masses Appearance is my key card Greeting is the scanner Response gives me feedback Green light for the answer Different people different things That's what I want to do Mindset differences Make my dreams come true I love to be around People who are not like me then I live a different life Vicariously Not through the tv Interactivity I might ask how do you be Now I'm free to see the keys Every one is unique Musically And the unique keys I see Are all music to me Following the lines Living the lies Doing what your told Makes the mold
0
Oct 19, 2016
Oct 19, 2016 at 10:31 PM UTC
Mold
Hold on to the mixing bowl Let the spoon change your place Forfeit all control Before you're stuck in place Exist here and there Let your guard down Exist everywhere Go another round When you're with the A's Don't forget the Q's Learn from everyone Let them affect you There's a whole world out there for you you've gotta unfurl before you're blue Following the lines Living the lies Doing what you're told Makes the mold Dip your body in Different swimming pools Keep one social group Is an awful rule Moldy barriers Oppress vividness All these different folks Combat my emptiness I don't really care About how it sounds I love everyone Never lets me down There's a whole world out there for you you've gotta unfurl before you're blue Following the lines Living the lies Doing what you're told Makes the mold I ran up on a trash can Deposited my best clothes Withdrew my new wardrobe Interesting info Generic attire That's my heart's desire Nobody to hide from Indicates my income Walk up to my best friend Laying back in class With these special provisions I can access the masses Appearance is my key card Greeting is the scanner Response gives me feedback Green light for the answer Different people different things That's what I want to do Mindset differences Make my dreams come true I love to be around People who are not like me then I live a different life Vicariously Not through the tv Interactivity I might ask how do you be Now I'm free to see the keys Every one is unique Musically And the unique keys I see Are all music to me Following the lines Living the lies Doing what your told Makes the mold
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S-togene er proppet af en stivnet mænge På perronen splintres glas som et vandfald af reflektioner Øjnene skjult bag briller, stiger han af toget Han møder én på perronen De spotter hinanden fra lang afstand Kvinden i sort og med solbriller skyggende for øjnene af glas En øredøvende larm får dem i trance hånd i hånd Ventende på S-tog og med briller for øjnene Scanner sig ind og ud og undslipper den frosne forsamling Skrider i gruset Hvorom alting er, er de to brillebærere forelsket I en tid fuld af S-toge og glas Kan man være forelsket i en sådan tid?
0
Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 3:32 PM UTC
S-toge
I know you've always considered me A mechanical man - And I'll admit I do my share of clicking and whirring I do have my own processes - Alien to you - But I have all the same ones Too, and a beating heart within my Clank-clattering flesh. I watch You, like a camera, like a scanner Searching for a price tag. Bar codes Are simple. I like simple, but you must Not think me mechanical for it. When you see me, I adore it, but often you See preconceived pictures and I'm terrible at this, you know, dreadful. I should stop, there's no way to say - No way to show that I am more than - You know, that I am eyes and skin And marrow, but more too, more than Even you - Nevermind, nevermind. There's no way you'd think I'm Human: I can't even speak. I just click quietly to myself and bend Toward you slightly with an injured creak.
0
Nov 19, 2010
Nov 19, 2010 at 3:36 PM UTC
Mister Gears