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"sicken" poems
This level reach of blue is not my sea; Here are sweet waters, pretty in the sun, Whose quiet ripples meet obediently A marked and measured line, one after one. This is no sea of mine. that humbly laves Untroubled sands, spread glittering and warm. I have a need of wilder, crueler waves; They sicken of the calm, who knew the storm. So let a love beat over me again, Loosing its million desperate breakers wide; Sudden and terrible to rise and wane; Roaring the heavens apart; a reckless tide That casts upon the heart, as it recedes, Splinters and spars and dripping, salty weeds.
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19.7k
Fair Weather
It hurts when your made up of naked love your heart tied in fake smiles and lies, beat beat you up Sicken with desire trying to find a doctor, who'll make it all right. he'll tune you up fixed new threads that make you wet Reflections of winners masks the regret, who will guide this ship? My sails feel like they're ripped but to be honest my spring is kind of sprung I am a monster, a surfer girl on salty seas. nervous when the sun ends.
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Nov 2, 2012
Nov 2, 2012 at 10:01 PM UTC
Sail
The final breath is entreated by the breaths of wind, the sky returns again as the stormy clouds depart. Droplets of water, from seas all over Earth Puddles of mud which use to be dirt. Centuries of creation all about, Weep as fast as the swimming trout. The morning birth of the turtle doves, peaceful and sad to see the dark night. The atmosphere of peace in might, As it pecks its way out of shell. Beneath the bone of its mother, She nurtures without a bother. The evening loss of dogs of war. At last the threat returns, ****** turned out of sores. Teacher sick of burns. Fire of skies tormenting, Precipitate of dirt fomenting. The freedom of the snake is not so seditious, It feeds on the nest of the turtle dove. Protect O mother-bird your love, Jettison the hatred deep inside, And **** the snake with severely brutal guile. The final wind is shakened by the quakes of ground. Hurt is one dove but there is three. Enough to go around, Eaten as food by thee. Hurt I'm, Hurt I be, nature you sicken me. Nature you sicken me.
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Nov 2, 2012
Nov 2, 2012 at 10:42 AM UTC
The Morning O' Gentleness Sense
She used the stars as her blanket, the moon was her pillow Her name is carried on every limb of every weeping willow The winds of change she often road A free wild soul, through the cosmos she flowed In the Milky Way she liked dipping in her toes Can't you see the silver ripples as they flow When on Saturn's rings she would go for a twirl That shinny raven night hair always waved out behind her She would wash her soul clean in Jupiter's falls She always loved listening to that planets howling wind's calls But now she sits on the Dark Side of the Moon In her twinkling dark eyes, tears are in bloom They are flowing down her checks, falling out into space She is crying because she finally got a look at this pathetic human race Saddened and sicken by what she saw She jetted of into the cosmos, never to return at all Now we can only tell stories of that raven haired beauty, as we set beside her shore It is a sea of her tears, when the sorrowful ways of man she could take no more
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Jun 15, 2016
Jun 15, 2016 at 10:59 AM UTC
A Wild Free Spirit
Music, when soft voices die, Vibrates in the memory— Odours, when sweet violets sicken, Live within the sense they quicken. Rose leaves, when the rose is dead, Are heaped for the beloved’s bed; And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone, Love itself shall slumber on.
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2.8k
Music, When Soft Voices Die
For ShirleyB Feel your heartbeat quicken For these pasta-salad days: I am bringing chicken. Bulging bellies thicken Laden with crab hollandaise. Feel your heartbeat quicken. Sweet Siobhan seems stricken By the puddings and soufflés. (I am bringing chicken.) Insert thy toothpick in Anastasia’s canapés: Feel your heartbeat quicken. Beatrice (she’s Wiccan) Brought a heap of warm beignets; I am bringing chicken. Jealousy shall sicken Those who brought their best entrées-- Feel your heartbeat quicken: I am bringing chicken!
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Apr 28, 2016
Apr 28, 2016 at 6:50 PM UTC
Villanelle On a Summer Potluck
A girl that would, a girl that just couldn't, mean nothing to me, but the other that wouldn't? Or rather, she shouldn't, she's taken, she wouldn't. A heart made of gold, I love her, she's prudent. The girl that just couldn't, it's not that she wouldn't, one side can hide but the other? That couldn't. I still made her moan, and shuffle, and tense, no less to atone for the mess; not alone. And the girl that would? She's taken, I shouldn't. It's not that I wouldn't, but hell I just couldn't. Because the other that wouldn't, was with me, each time, and I love her. And maybe it's worth it, when later, both lovesick, I heard her admit, that she might love me too. She couldn't decide, when her eye met with mine, to abide moral side or give in, and confide. In a sicken love feeling, disgusting, appalled, to think to give up, to consider a fold, because you might love me too.
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Jan 9, 2014
Jan 9, 2014 at 8:39 AM UTC
A Sicken Love Feeling
***Most people live for love But some of us live because of it*** Such unforgivable forgetfulness Lost within potential photos Preoccupied and overly abrasive Harmless yet persuasively implicit These eyes are speechless But explicitly dying to speak A picture so perfect for lust A thousand words Just isn't enough Deeply indebted With every glance   Too perplexed by color     How none of it belongs     Another illustrated nightmare    Where sleep is prolonged Where the sick plans To escape with the thought Trapped inside the mind So adolescent Oh picture the heartache Rejoicing over a carcass Still standing And rapturing moments We all long to feel This winter shiver So sicken from cold feet An undying hunger For butterfly soup ***Proof What worthy time to be alive Clearly sold on the vision Never too hasty to cover This lover isn't blind   But envisioned May we all fall victim To the photos We aren't viable to find*
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Jan 31, 2016
Jan 31, 2016 at 10:35 PM UTC
Been Taking Pictures with Willow
You sicken me. That wasn't even a real compliment. She said you did a job well That a monkey could do just as well. You are pathetic. Don't get that disgusting Gleam In your eye Just because of a positive acknowledgement. You are like a puppy Whose master called it a good boy For finding a stick in an empty yard. You are reliant. Desperate. Pathetic. You don't deserve anything.
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Jun 12, 2010
Jun 12, 2010 at 6:17 PM UTC
on receiving compliments in the workplace
When the chickens come to town, do not smile, do not frown, sacrafice Mrs Hicken, sacrafice Mr Dicken, run away from the chickens, jump away from the zickens. When the chickens jump up and down, do not abreviate, do not noun. sacrafice Mrs Houn, sacrafice Mr Boun, run away from the ground, try to not, make a sound. When the chickens fall from the sky, do not winge, do not cry, sacrafice Mrs Dye, sacrafice Mr McKye, duck away from the sky, no billy, you can not fly. When the sky, starts to fall out chickens, not do slow, not do quicken, Mrs Sacrafice you will dicken, Mr Sacrafice you will sicken, sky away, from the stabbin' die away, from the kebabin'.
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Sep 4, 2014
Sep 4, 2014 at 7:55 PM UTC
When The Chickens Come To Town...
Born He, Discovered She within, Express her, teased, laughed at, pain, Hide, act like the other little boys, Smile, battle the pain, just be happy. She moves within the shadows. A shimmer of light, home alone, A chance to grow, express her, Caught, rejected, pain, Hide, act like the other young men, Smile, battle the pain, just be happy. She moves within the shadows. Married, wife, children, life is wonderful, Baseball, Barbies, basketball, XOXO Hide, act like the other husbands/dads, Smile, battle the pain, just be happy. She moves within the shadows. Marriage issues, stress, depression, Open up, wife confused, sad, sicken, Rejected, pain, world collapsing, Hide, act like the other husbands/dads, Smile, battle the pain, just be happy. She moves within the shadows. Divorce on the horizon, feels like death, Pain, hide, be strong in front of kids, Smile, battle the pain, just be happy. She moves within the shadows. Seek help, Jesus, therapy, Trinity UMC, Strong growing support, acceptance, Others with pain, be Her, Smile, battle the pain together, finding happiness. She moves slightly out of the shadows. Divorce still on the horizon, still feels like death, Kids all young adults, happy, healthy, informed, Out to them, accepted, love I've only dreamed of, Smile, battle the pain together, finding happiness. She moves out of the shadows a little more. To Be Continued . . .
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Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 4:28 PM UTC
Shadows
lipstick smudged in rotten cherry hue the feelings when i know you're getting better bruised the sentences in my hand hollowed summer hollowed air why can't you be there.
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Jan 7, 2014
Jan 7, 2014 at 6:42 AM UTC
sicken summer words.
Music, when soft voices die, Vibrates in the memory— Odours, when sweet violets sicken, Live within the sense they quicken. Rose leaves, when the rose is dead, Are heaped for the beloved’s bed; And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone, Love itself shall slumber on.
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2k
To
They sicken everyone, Who comes in contact with them. They spread like wildfire, That can’t be doused. And the only thing that stops them, Is the body, In which hosts them. But the world has a problem, With a virus, That can’t be stopped. It affects everyone, No matter how smart. It kills more people, Then guns and wars. But it is never the answer, To why things happen, Because stupidity is the virus, Which nobody cares to acknowledge.
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Jan 19, 2014
Jan 19, 2014 at 1:10 PM UTC
VIRUSES
in the backs of cabs that reek of stale ***** blue salt specks are dragged against their will to rest in the ridges of the floor mats. fluorescent confused cubicles of light flashing by- your mind fighting to make shapes out of the blur. it’s january, this is everyone’s mood. fingers folded into fists, stuffed into nylon pockets, catching your breath and watching the scenery swirl past like the entire horizon is made of melting wax. you’re replaying day old conversations, analyzing cryptic eye movements and body language of those people that strike you so suddenly. those strangers that have pushed and shoved every defense and nestled themselves into every fiber of your being. you sicken yourself with these sappy adolescent romantic bouts but they’re the only thing keeping you alive. you don’t know these people. you don’t even know yourself. the cab driver mumbles something over the radio and your attention is brought back to the present. he’s on the phone- that’s illegal. you’re a little concerned- your life does lie in the shivering hands of a stranger who boredly grasps and curves a wheel, after all. but you play it cool, you turn to nihilism- it’s easier this way. death is fine. the cab driver is passing your house while you’re swatting at questions. you uncomfortably raise your quiet voice for a few hesitant notes. “Here is fine!” you urge to the driver while a fumbling hand shakes down your pockets for a twenty. there’s your house- standing just as you left it through the white mystery patches on the back window. chock full of memories and problems and decay and warmth. everything seems to rest so calmly in the palms of the bittersweet. tell the stranger to have a goodnight. he returns the favor. everyone needs to hear these things- it’s january, after all.
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Apr 13, 2013
Apr 13, 2013 at 4:48 PM UTC
red ears / rustling coats
in the backs of cabs that reek of stale ***** blue salt specks are dragged against their will to rest in the ridges of the floor mats. fluorescent confused cubicles of light flashing by- your mind fighting to make shapes out of the blur. it’s january, this is everyone’s mood. fingers folded into fists, stuffed into nylon pockets, catching your breath and watching the scenery swirl past like the entire horizon is made of melting wax. you’re replaying day old conversations, analyzing cryptic eye movements and body language of those people that strike you so suddenly. those strangers that have pushed and shoved every defense and nestled themselves into every fiber of your being. you sicken yourself with these sappy adolescent romantic bouts but they’re the only thing keeping you alive. you don’t know these people. you don’t even know yourself. the cab driver mumbles something over the radio and your attention is brought back to the present. he’s on the phone- that’s illegal. you’re a little concerned- your life does lie in the shivering hands of a stranger who boredly grasps and curves a wheel, after all. but you play it cool, you turn to nihilism- it’s easier this way. death is fine. the cab driver is passing your house while you’re swatting at questions. you uncomfortably raise your quiet voice for a few hesitant notes. “Here is fine!” you urge to the driver while a fumbling hand shakes down your pockets for a twenty. there’s your house- standing just as you left it through the white mystery patches on the back window. chock full of memories and problems and decay and warmth. everything seems to rest so calmly in the palms of the bittersweet. tell the stranger to have a goodnight. he returns the favor. everyone needs to hear these things- it’s january, after all.
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I want you, so passionately you look deep into my soulful eyes, I want you ravenously, I want to pull the stars and the moon and give you my light, that illuminating light that comes within, I want to infinitely ravish your thought sense and time, and whisper laughters full of rain, sicken your senses with *** wine and ******** whine and grind and gentle soft kisses ...
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Aug 19, 2015
Aug 19, 2015 at 5:26 AM UTC
I want you
Risest thou thus, dim dawn, again, And howlest, issuing out of night, With blasts that blow the poplar white, And lash with storm the streaming pane? Day, when my crown'd estate begun To pine in that reverse of doom, Which sicken'd every living bloom, And blurr'd the splendour of the sun; Who usherest in the dolorous hour With thy quick tears that make the rose Pull sideways, and the daisy close Her crimson fringes to the shower; Who might'st have heaved a windless flame Up the deep East, or, whispering, play'd A chequer-work of beam and shade Along the hills, yet look'd the same. As wan, as chill, as wild as now; Day, mark'd as with some hideous crime, When the dark hand struck down thro' time, And cancell'd nature's best: but thou, Lift as thou may'st thy burthen'd brows Thro' clouds that drench the morning star, And whirl the ungarner'd sheaf afar, And sow the sky with flying boughs, And up thy vault with roaring sound Climb thy thick noon, disastrous day; Touch thy dull goal of joyless gray, And hide thy shame beneath the ground.
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1.7k
In Memoriam A. H. H. OBIIT MDCCCXXXIII: 72
Some People Disgust me. All Humans Sicken me. I'd rather consider us People Because at least there are some good people.
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Oct 16, 2011
Oct 16, 2011 at 3:05 PM UTC
Disgust and Hurt tied in one.
I wish you would leave me alone. I don't want your company Nor Do I want to hear your voice. You sicken me. It's not like I have a choice To have you stalk me as if I were your prey. No matter how much I push you away. You always seem to stay. Please. Leave me be. Can't you see? You're unwanted. Filthy mutt. Leave me be.
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Nov 7, 2014
Nov 7, 2014 at 3:27 PM UTC
Leave me be.
ignite that glorious chain of the cigarettes you crave they sit between your pretty fingers, jingle-jangling to and from your lips. a smile not quite saccharine, but immensely sweet and sicken- ing still. gravity pulls me now with immense force clench your fist, strike in romance, I won't whimper, I won't defend. I will crawl back for more. kiss tenderly tendered wound, fresh scars worn with pride, a pain that brings with it comfort and yearning your ill nature i implore as your healing touch has me on the floor for more howling praises at the feet of the angelic figure i see sense of self and body sore you are what i suffer for and it shouldn't have been any other way at all you like to hurt as much as I like to hurt. we have fallen into place quite conveniently, haven't we?
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Feb 11, 2015
Feb 11, 2015 at 2:06 AM UTC
hurt
You sicken me. Put me in bad form in a heartbeat— I don't understand how I didn't realise all these feelings would come back. It took so ******* long just to get over you. Why did I think you'd be nice to me? The worst thing being I can't tell a soul. Can't breathe a word about the hold you have on me. You just belittle me. Make me feel tiny. Not just because I'm 19 and you're 23, but you make me feel young and silly. You embarass me.
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May 4, 2015
May 4, 2015 at 1:40 PM UTC
You Make Me So Nervous
I Had A Dream To Become I had a dream of you Jehovah ; Holding my hand ,Talking to me about Life's pains that I was in , I was crying because I was I'll of some kind You Oh Jehovah ; You have taken your hand and whipped Away each tear that had fallen from my eyes My heart was filled with compassion for your Love for humankind , You Jehovah opened my eyes to see , Yes, spiritually bound by Satan and helpless Or the loss in their way of the night , Sicken By the night of not living right ; To even see their tragic dilemma even mine, Oh how my spirit started to pray for them, and For all mankind ; I even prayed for my life ; For Jehovah to take full control , and led the way For me to go , Jehovah and our Lord Jesus ; Deliver me and all mankind from this ******* that We are in ;have mercy for each of the lost souls To make their way back home ; Break these bindings of Satan’s work, Take his sick Hands of his ***** works off of each one of us and Let Us live a life to be Fisher Of Men , I suddenly felt confident that Jehovah God heard me, As he looked at me why I was sleeping ; I heard his voice say to me You are free from your Sickness ;Go teach others what You know to save souls The ******* that I was in has been broken, So go and teach the world of my ''Kingdom'' ,and My ''Love'', For the lost souls ,Clean your ways and walk In the light of Jehovah God and you will gain ''Everlasting Life'', So pick up your things and walk and become ''Fishers Of Man ''. Poetic Judy Emery © 1980 The Queen Of Darken Dreams Poetic Lilly Emery
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Apr 2, 2017
Apr 2, 2017 at 12:29 PM UTC
I Had A Dream To Become
I Had A Dream To Become I had a dream of you Jehovah ; Holding my hand ,Talking to me about Life's pains that I was in , I was crying because I was I'll of some kind You Oh Jehovah ; You have taken your hand and whipped Away each tear that had fallen from my eyes My heart was filled with compassion for your Love for humankind , You Jehovah opened my eyes to see , Yes, spiritually bound by Satan and helpless Or the loss in their way of the night , Sicken By the night of not living right ; To even see their tragic dilemma even mine, Oh how my spirit started to pray for them, and For all mankind ; I even prayed for my life ; For Jehovah to take full control , and led the way For me to go , Jehovah and our Lord Jesus ; Deliver me and all mankind from this ******* that We are in ;have mercy for each of the lost souls To make their way back home ; Break these bindings of Satan’s work, Take his sick Hands of his ***** works off of each one of us and Let Us live a life to be Fisher Of Men , I suddenly felt confident that Jehovah God heard me, As he looked at me why I was sleeping ; I heard his voice say to me You are free from your Sickness ;Go teach others what You know to save souls The ******* that I was in has been broken, So go and teach the world of my ''Kingdom'' ,and My ''Love'', For the lost souls ,Clean your ways and walk In the light of Jehovah God and you will gain ''Everlasting Life'', So pick up your things and walk and become ''Fishers Of Man ''. Poetic Judy Emery © 1980 The Queen Of Darken Dreams Poetic Lilly Emery
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37
Like as a flamelet blanketed in smoke, So through the anaesthetic shows my life; So flashes and so fades my thought, at strife With the strong stupor that I heave and choke And sicken at, it is so foully sweet. Faces look strange from space--and disappear. Far voices, sudden loud, offend my ear-- And hush as sudden. Then my senses fleet: All were a blank, save for this dull, new pain That grinds my leg and foot; and brokenly Time and the place glimpse on to me again; And, unsurprised, out of uncertainty, I wake--relapsing--somewhat faint and fain, To an immense, complacent dreamery.
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1.4k
After
"I don't care about you anymore,your free of me" I care more than I want,I wish you'd tell me you loved me,Like you use to "I've stopped loving you,Just like you stopped loving me" I am in love with you as I was the day I met you,And I wish you loved me the same way "Our memories are worthless now,You made that clear" I can't help remembering each one,Remembering our kisses in the rain and our hugs,don't you remember." "You don't have to look at me again,I can walk away right now and never look back" If I walk away,I'd want you to chase me and if you didn't know I'd be crying myself to sleep because of you" "You sicken me when you ignore me,I never did anything wrong" No you don't sicken me when you ignore me,you break me" "Can you see what we were you never want us to again be," I wish you could see how I'm dying inside,I wish you understood how badly I need you,how I've always needed you
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Sep 15, 2011
Sep 15, 2011 at 10:06 PM UTC
Words said Words I wish were.
It's the Spring. Earth has conceived, and her ***** Teeming with summer, is glad. Vistas of change and adventure, Thro' the green land The grey roads go beckoning and winding, Peopled with wains, and melodious With harness-bells jangling: Jangling and twangling rough rhythms To the slow march of the stately, great horses Whistled and shouted along. White fleets of cloud, Argosies heavy with fruitfulness, Sail the blue peacefully. Green flame the hedgerows. Blackbirds are bugling, and white in wet winds Sway the tall poplars. Pageants of colour and fragrance, Pass the sweet meadows, and viewless Walks the mild spirit of May, Visibly blessing the world. O, the brilliance of blossoming orchards! O, the savour and thrill of the woods, When their leafage is stirred By the flight of the Angel of Rain! Loud lows the steer; in the fallows Rooks are alert; and the brooks Gurgle and ****** and trill. Thro' the gloamings, Under the rare, shy stars, Boy and girl wander, Dreaming in darkness and dew. It's the Spring. A sprightliness feeble and squalid Wakes in the ward, and I sicken, Impotent, winter at heart.
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1.4k
Pastoral