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"scooted" poems
I wanted to face a fear. So I scooted myself closer to the railing of this 420 foot high bridge & forced myself to look over the edge Telling myself that this fear was irrational, But the longer I sat there the more the anticipation grew in my chest, the more I could feel my body betraying my mind, images flashed of me being thrown over the edge by my sadistic thoughts. Some part of me wanted to free fall into the rushing water & the sharp jagged rocks below A part of me I don't like to hear "This is real." All the years of telling myself I was scared of heights, When really I am only scared of myself.
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Aug 13, 2014
Aug 13, 2014 at 8:19 PM UTC
Acrophobia
I always get up early. Early, early, early and it’s Saturday morning. So I scooted over to “Donut Crazy” and got myself 12 sugar donuts (and a selection of treats for my suitemates - I’m NOT suicidal.) At 8am, I’m in the suite common area, on the couch, binging “Ladybug and Cat Noir” on my iPad and I realize that Leong, one of my suitemates, is sipping her coffee and staring at me like I’m a bad pet. I look around to find myself sitting in a shower of confectioners’ sugar speckles. “In my defense, I was left unsupervised.” I disclaim.
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Oct 30, 2021
Oct 30, 2021 at 11:13 AM UTC
donuts
I used to swim across the channel to rattlesnake island when I lived in Florida . We all knew the sharks loved the funneling action of the channel to the bay . And we were always aware that there were sharks near by . We saw them every day . Yet the allure of the island just a scant one hundred yards away was to much for a 10 year old to pass up . So I would swim across holding a rod and reel high so it would not soak in sea water . I admit there was apprehension evident in my strokes and kicks but I made it across . On the other side there were no rattlesnakes anywhere . Just gorgeous unclaimed white beaches and aqua clear water . Needle fish scooted across the surface and schools of mullet jumping were all I could see . I did little or no fishing , just running and jumping into the surf . What an afternoon it was . But the sun slid down and we knew we had to leave soon as the big sharks move in at dusk to feed into the night . So we stepped into the swirling waters of the channel and then plunged in and swam . Sharks have all black eyes . Cold black eyes and an expressionless grin that is all business sporting a mouth full of jagged dagger teeth . They are cautious up to a point but no one knows where that point is . Once that point is reached . . . well you don't want to see that point while your in the water . So about half way across the channel we see a dark shadow swim by in front of us between us and the beach . We know it's a shark , a big one . Perhaps more than fifteen feet long . We can't stay where we are at , but we fear to move on . So taking a deep breath we swim on slow and steady . Finely the beach is at hand , our feet touch sand and we run up on the beach and collapse . Then with heaving chests of fear we look back only to see the shark swim by . Needless to say that was my last visit to rattlesnake island .
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Apr 8, 2016
Apr 8, 2016 at 11:55 PM UTC
Swimming with the Sharks
I used to swim across the channel to rattlesnake island when I lived in Florida . We all knew the sharks loved the funneling action of the channel to the bay . And we were always aware that there were sharks near by . We saw them every day . Yet the allure of the island just a scant one hundred yards away was to much for a 10 year old to pass up . So I would swim across holding a rod and reel high so it would not soak in sea water . I admit there was apprehension evident in my strokes and kicks but I made it across . On the other side there were no rattlesnakes anywhere . Just gorgeous unclaimed white beaches and aqua clear water . Needle fish scooted across the surface and schools of mullet jumping were all I could see . I did little or no fishing , just running and jumping into the surf . What an afternoon it was . But the sun slid down and we knew we had to leave soon as the big sharks move in at dusk to feed into the night . So we stepped into the swirling waters of the channel and then plunged in and swam . Sharks have all black eyes . Cold black eyes and an expressionless grin that is all business sporting a mouth full of jagged dagger teeth . They are cautious up to a point but no one knows where that point is . Once that point is reached . . . well you don't want to see that point while your in the water . So about half way across the channel we see a dark shadow swim by in front of us between us and the beach . We know it's a shark , a big one . Perhaps more than fifteen feet long . We can't stay where we are at , but we fear to move on . So taking a deep breath we swim on slow and steady . Finely the beach is at hand , our feet touch sand and we run up on the beach and collapse . Then with heaving chests of fear we look back only to see the shark swim by . Needless to say that was my last visit to rattlesnake island .
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4
My heart is the robin's egg that fell from it's nest. Delicate, cracked, the prettiest shade of blue Not pulled away by the gasp of the wind, Not scooted out by an unforgiving orange feline My heart tried to fly before it's robin had hatched. Even dreams(ers) have their limitations Emerging from the blue shell the creature is wounded very much alive, very much curious, newly cautious. Wings unfolded but yet to soar. Perhaps one day the wind will guide. Perhaps one day the dreams will be suited Perhaps one day I'll fly but first I will heal
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Mar 9, 2015
Mar 9, 2015 at 11:36 PM UTC
Robin's egg blue
In the end, I never really climbed- Them, they gave me panic attacks, Razors loped my flesh and I ran in Circles over a reverse nightmare, Spiral staircase, awful storeys, They all scooted to 1999. I want to climb down my 1999, burn And not be smolder in an ashtray. I hope to fall asleep, away from The city, away from my guava trees. I have my history of walking, Suddenly lost without postage stamps. Will you take me to Ferris wheel? Push me down the spiral staircase, And sleep next to my 1999? Will you? Will you take me to Ferris wheel? Push me down the spiral staircase, And sleep next to my 1999? Will you? “Some other day”
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Apr 23, 2016
Apr 23, 2016 at 10:26 AM UTC
Some other day
She scooted along the checkerboard floor collecting ***** plates & refilling sweet teas. I placed a double-order of fish tacos & sat right next to the buffet of hot sauces just to watch her toss her brown hair about from under her pink pussycat hat & lithe body covered in delicious ink & piercings.
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Sep 9, 2014
Sep 9, 2014 at 11:09 PM UTC
Fish Taco Tuesday
the management at Hello Poetry need to be mindful of grand larceny those who involve themselves with this impropriety would be scooted off other writing sites very promptly theft is theft and stealing is a federal crime they the perpetrators bear a shingle of low down slime taking other's copyrighted pieces always their appalling paradigm yet these persons aren't bought to book they have a free rein in employing the purloining hook plagiarists so bereft of a writing capacity nicking your works and mine with reprehensible audacity
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Jun 26, 2017
Jun 26, 2017 at 9:05 PM UTC
Audacity
1. Diaphanous dragons disgorge a deluge of diamonds into the shadowed crevices of cumulus clouds. Ruby-red sapphires overpopulate the glistening sky like carbon-hardened locust: gorgeous messengers of the gods. The Earth wears a crimson helmet, shielded from the odious absence of ozone above the North and South poles. Near Minneapolis, John Berryman's wizened body shatters on the frozen riverbed below the Washington Avenue Bridge. Angels weep to see him jump, as he waves a vaudevillian goodbye. The sapphires blanch, then turn an angry, violent violet. Black holes ahead. 2. Shakespeare and Mr. Bones **** on mortality's skimpy skeleton of life. Will this broken body be resurrected? Does it deserve such distinction? Better yet, does its daring, drunken destroyer? Four hundred Dream Songs nod yes. Berryman toddled ticklishly toward the last traces of transcendence. Love & Fame broadcast how terribly his faith failed to trade daily delirium tremens for the mysterium tremendum. The God he prayed to demanded a syntax pure, plain.and perfect. With jolts of jest, He jimmied paradoxes into koans. Berryman howls for the sound of one diamond scratching the outline of his body on ice. 3. He left a legacy broader than liquor, lechery and the love-struck ladies. Lust seeded his fallow lacunae and lazily broke his wife's heart. Scholarship scooted him to the squeamish, secluded top of his Shakespearean class: Signal student turns trusted teacher. Poetry cloned the Oklahoma clown in him. No successors, no schools, no savvy peers, save Lowell. his fellow manic-depressive. He dreamed songs of hilarity, humility, history, dehumanization. Poetry proved serious business until it learned to laugh at itself. Sapphires crackle under the weight of the creaking sun. They spin a kaleidoscopic rainbow of colors onto Berryman's obituary. Somehow, he has won: An irreplaceable jewel of the sky.
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Jul 23, 2019
Jul 23, 2019 at 4:01 PM UTC
A Poet's Fall Into Grace
1. Diaphanous dragons disgorge a deluge of diamonds into the shadowed crevices of cumulus clouds. Ruby-red sapphires overpopulate the glistening sky like carbon-hardened locust: gorgeous messengers of the gods. The Earth wears a crimson helmet, shielded from the odious absence of ozone above the North and South poles. Near Minneapolis, John Berryman's wizened body shatters on the frozen riverbed below the Washington Avenue Bridge. Angels weep to see him jump, as he waves a vaudevillian goodbye. The sapphires blanch, then turn an angry, violent violet. Black holes ahead. 2. Shakespeare and Mr. Bones **** on mortality's skimpy skeleton of life. Will this broken body be resurrected? Does it deserve such distinction? Better yet, does its daring, drunken destroyer? Four hundred Dream Songs nod yes. Berryman toddled ticklishly toward the last traces of transcendence. Love & Fame broadcast how terribly his faith failed to trade daily delirium tremens for the mysterium tremendum. The God he prayed to demanded a syntax pure, plain.and perfect. With jolts of jest, He jimmied paradoxes into koans. Berryman howls for the sound of one diamond scratching the outline of his body on ice. 3. He left a legacy broader than liquor, lechery and the love-struck ladies. Lust seeded his fallow lacunae and lazily broke his wife's heart. Scholarship scooted him to the squeamish, secluded top of his Shakespearean class: Signal student turns trusted teacher. Poetry cloned the Oklahoma clown in him. No successors, no schools, no savvy peers, save Lowell. his fellow manic-depressive. He dreamed songs of hilarity, humility, history, dehumanization. Poetry proved serious business until it learned to laugh at itself. Sapphires crackle under the weight of the creaking sun. They spin a kaleidoscopic rainbow of colors onto Berryman's obituary. Somehow, he has won: An irreplaceable jewel of the sky.
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33
"what about the beach?", the grandpa asked the grandson the small boy with wide eyes looked up at this man, his eyes clearer than the elder had seen in years the grandson had asked the grandpa to take him to the beach that day, just a few miles from the house, so he could watch the thing he loved most at that courageous, carefree age "not today, im sorry. maybe next time you come and visit. the birds will still be there, then", he said, tirelessly and so the little boy scooted off his lap and the grandpa sat in his chair, long after the little boy had gone to bed he asked himself the question he had just asked and found no reply
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Apr 26, 2015
Apr 26, 2015 at 7:17 PM UTC
Untitled
The Starship To collect their lord of time they came. In brightly lit visual ships. Lights rotating. Blazing round Orion's Belt as they scooted on. Descending almost stooping in a crescendo of multi-coloured flashes. Simultaneous in rhythm. Similar to ancestral craft. Seen many times before. In silent mission. Concealed from humanity whose terror they had often felt. In an illumination of oblivion soon to be. This was their last attempt. Tried to ****** the evil as they struggled with dark polluted air. Rancid was the vile stench. As if Earth was slowly rotting to her putrid core. Night dispensed a shower of hypnotic dust. Irritated all men's eyes. Dust of hypnosis sent the world to sleep, Eyes blighted by nightmares of things seen recently passed. While inhabitants slept peacefully. Their evilness was cleansed. Another chance was given for the world to start again as friends. At that moment their lord of time, he was collected. Smiled a smile with dignity. Forgave mortal man's stupidity. And screeched give peace a chance. By ladylivvi1 © 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
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Sep 2, 2013
Sep 2, 2013 at 6:28 PM UTC
The Starship!
she was cute, I think it was her smile, she smiled at me, everytime I spoke. yea I´m sure its her smile but when noticing the anatomy of a woman, you can´t forget the eyes she means nothing if you forgot, her eyes, large and brown, this is how I know it was her smile, because her eyes smiled too even when her mouth forgot to Her hair was gentle... like her eyes, her hips they swayed from side to side She scooted her chair closer to me when we stopped dancing to rest tired feet Maybe next time I´ll dance with you I hope you found your keys
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Feb 6, 2011
Feb 6, 2011 at 5:23 PM UTC
her eyes
a vicious ant bit me on the arm he really did me a lot of harm a swollen red patch he left behind the discomfort of it is driving me out of my mind he scooted off without an apology he was more brutal than a wasp or a bee whence next I go to hang the washing out I'll take a survey on any ants that are crawling about should I see any of these little brutes scurrying around the vicinity a smart exit shall be made by me out of their proximity so quick is an ant's biting action truly massive is its impaction
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Sep 3, 2013
Sep 3, 2013 at 9:11 PM UTC
A Vicious Ant
"There's no such thing as a witch," Martha told me smiling trying hard to hold the corners of her lips from turning up and holding her hand over her pentagram silver-necklace. She dropped a chicken foot right next to a circle of six smoldering candles & a burnt tarot card. I knew then it was time for me to leave her premise. I scooted across her yard & locked the gate behind me feeling strange, as if I were lying, placed under a spell.
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May 9, 2015
May 9, 2015 at 2:11 AM UTC
I Swear Martha Is Not A Witch
Depression walked into my bedroom tonight. He shoved me all the problems, Piled them up high, even past the sky. Then He tipped over the weights and it came crashing                                                                                                 Down                                                                                                Down                                                                                                                                                                                               Down. Crushing My every being. Anxiety walked into my bedroom tonight. He stole my breath and suppressed my lungs, Gripped my throat so tight that my soul left my body And scooted away, flying back home with Depression. Loneliness walked into my bedroom tonight. Revealed once again the rejections and isolation, The pressure to fit in and The reminders that I can't do anything properly. The times I was ignored, the times I was shamed, The times the whole world walked out on me (Though they never came in). I thought I would've felt Alone. Isolated. Abandoned. But thank God for Anxiety and Depression, At least they stayed with me.
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Dec 2, 2013
Dec 2, 2013 at 10:04 AM UTC
My Only Friends
Depression walked into my bedroom tonight. He shoved me all the problems, Piled them up high, even past the sky. Then He tipped over the weights and it came crashing                                                                                                 Down                                                                                                Down                                                                                                                                                                                               Down. Crushing My every being. Anxiety walked into my bedroom tonight. He stole my breath and suppressed my lungs, Gripped my throat so tight that my soul left my body And scooted away, flying back home with Depression. Loneliness walked into my bedroom tonight. Revealed once again the rejections and isolation, The pressure to fit in and The reminders that I can't do anything properly. The times I was ignored, the times I was shamed, The times the whole world walked out on me (Though they never came in). I thought I would've felt Alone. Isolated. Abandoned. But thank God for Anxiety and Depression, At least they stayed with me.
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26
I would want nothing more, Than to hear you knocking at my door, You want nothing to do with me I'm sure. I cant get you out of my head, I lie alone, awake in bed, I can don't know what to do instead. There is only one of you, And one of me, I thought we fit together perfectly. My edges were too rough, My heart was too tough, My love wasn't enough. I don't blame you for the pain, I remember that day it rained, When I scooted to my left and you to your right, But now I cry at night.
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Apr 30, 2016
Apr 30, 2016 at 5:53 PM UTC
Heart of Stone
he gave me a look that set a fire in my heart. he turned the lights off, and my heart raced faster. closer and closer he scooted, but did nothing. why didnt he kiss me?
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Apr 11, 2015
Apr 11, 2015 at 1:36 PM UTC
Untitled
his little red car didn't do 100 it didn't even do 55 it just scooted around the carpet getting stuck on sticky substances that were not embarrassing his little red car drove along uneven ground, and occasionally ran into feet, that were mountains that crushed the little red car in anger and under the heel of rage he was lost for words his little red car, not broken still on four wheels still drove on until the day it ran into Mommas hand it backed up and drove forward again and the hand didn't move it didn't ruffle angelic hair and it didn't wave away his little red car with indulgence it didn't move at all he was lost for words he drives slowly along the streets in his black car, red a color of agony while he scoots around the alleys his bare feet cold upon metal there is no carpet, no stickiness to be left as an unknown substance allowed to cloud his vision of how it is to be to drive around carefree at a loss for words
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May 7, 2012
May 7, 2012 at 5:28 AM UTC
at a loss for words
I sat next to a **** fox at the bar It was a stumble really--I didn't see her and barely made it onto the stool But she scooted to the left and brushed my right arm I glanced and said, "Hi." She smiled and asked how I was doing. I responded with, "What are you drinking?" She giggled and said she was sipping on a *** and coke I got the bartender's attention and told him, *** and coke" He brought it back and sat it between the two of us--      I threw him six bucks. She drained her drink and reached for the *** and coke. --I slipped in quicker and grabbed the glass; gulped it The fox looked confused I smirked,      stood up,           and walked out.
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Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 11:52 AM UTC
Christine, the fox
We slipped down olive drab line under deafening blades, out onto the ridgeline into pitch like lightning. Then the hookers, them stick ******* scooted, leaving us in total silence. Three days & two cracks later, we got extracted, two departed, mission accomplished.
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May 7, 2014
May 7, 2014 at 10:08 PM UTC
Two Departed
I had a 2 wheeled blue scooter; I rode it down the slope from the Square down through one of the gaps at the end and onto Rockingham Street, then turned around and scooted it back up again. Enid stood watching me at the top Can I have a go Benny? she said. Sure you can; I handed her the scooter. She put a foot on and scooted down the slope; she put both feet on the scooter as it picked up speed, passing people who were coming up and going down the slope. She went through the right hand gap and onto Rockingham Street. She looked back up at me and smiled; she turned around and shooter up the slope her left foot pushing the ground. She got to the top that was great, she said can I have a go again? Sure you can; she turned the scooter around and off she went. I watched her go pleased to see her happy and smiling, hoping her old man didn't come along and see her or she'd be for it as he was in his dark moods once more and she be for it for sure.
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Sep 6, 2017
Sep 6, 2017 at 3:32 AM UTC
Scooter Riding 1957.
had a dream you and i were sleeping on the same bed i don't think we were touching but we were facing each other it was dark and scary your eyes were closed and my eyes were opened and i thought about moving closer , putting my head to your chest i remember your skin, it was sweaty it looked sticky and i think i may have actually scooted closer , rested my forehead to your body you weren't awake and i was sad and i just wanted you to look at me in my dream, i woke up the next morning and you were gone i checked the internet and i couldn't remember your name either that or you had blocked me on facebook
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Feb 17, 2014
Feb 17, 2014 at 2:59 PM UTC
a more serious poem about a dream i had involving you, me, and a few unsaid words! (or: words that were said but never justified in the way you touched me) [alternatively: 'RE:']
Last night we sat in my driveway Your chest heaved and I knew Your heart was cracking under the pressure Of "goodnight." Because it was so close to saying goodbye I scooted onto your lap While your tears dripped onto my thigh And I tried to press my heart Into your chest Because I hated to see you cry
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Jan 13, 2016
Jan 13, 2016 at 11:36 PM UTC
The Hardest Goodbye
It wasn’t even delivery it was a **** pick up. All I wanted was a medium one topping. Just a delicious Papa John’s with a little beef. Well, turns out me and my car were about to have some beef. My car and pizza have a history together. Long story short my car is the only nonliving and living thing to hate pizza. I was a pizza delivery driver for a few short months and my car loved driving around except when it came to pizzas and delivering them. Like I said my car is a human or at minimum a living thing of sorts. The tan-ass ************ smelled the pizza as I scooted behind the wheel with my medium one topping. One sniff and three different lights came popping out at me. The ABS brake light, air bag light, and the battery light. My car is maniacal! Once I got back home my car wouldn’t start and now I need a new battery and alternator. My car’s best friend even tried to give her a jump but she wouldn’t accept the love. I love you my lovely car but why do you have to hate pizza so much.
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Feb 9, 2019
Feb 9, 2019 at 2:15 PM UTC
Pick Up (pt. 2)
listen to your dreams get off of me slap face scolding we never hit an her she scooted closer to me then she then she then she looked at me ever so gingerly then she kissed me she batted her eyes lashes an then she slapped me I wanna I wanna I wanna do what she wants me to do so she so she no. sew she me to her from the inside she sees me to her pink p I r s e threw me under the hearse we heard her scream before the hearse ran over me listen to your dreams ? ... .. .
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Mar 3, 2018
Mar 3, 2018 at 10:15 PM UTC
Untitled