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"sneezing" poems
Slipping into my apron, Hungry in body and soul Humming as a song played... I grab my knife and chop-board Unsure of what to cook Strange inspirations possess me Filling me with ***** My kitchen becomes a stage In my hands- a plectrum and fretboard Silver utensils- my live audience!* As I play divine recipes Strumming master acoustic chords Chopping fresh, colorful vegetables. I dash to the remote, Punch "Repeat" and dash back on stage Landing on E♭ minor, Scaling impossible notes, I slice with razor-sharp plectrum, On onions and other root chords My fret arrayed with colors, Of spinach, lettuce, tomatoes Carrots, potatoes, olives Pepper, cabbage and cucumbers. I hear a thunder of applause As I ignite the cooker Butter sizzling in the hot pan A staccato of sharp notes, *Ready to modulate innocent vegetables Through spicy aromatic crescendos!* I fight hard to suppress a sneeze, No sneezing on-stage! Unprofessional! Multitudes of seconds rush by and… Voila!!! I stand for a moment Salivating, awed at my bravura! Wishing I could hang it on my wall Tis beautiful like art But I can’t eat this cake and have it! So I dig in… Heaven and earth kiss for a moment L U S C I O U S!!! Luckily, it didn’t taste nauseating Like my last attempt. No time for ceremonies I munch from pan to mouth Pausing for what may pass for a prayer, I relish every bite! Not that I’m a foodie or something, But nothing beats this combo- Of good food and soul music. And yes, *Music is indeed food to the soul!* I devour, in view- the next meal... © Raphael Uzor
0
Apr 4, 2014
Apr 4, 2014 at 2:42 PM UTC
Guitar Sauce
Slipping into my apron, Hungry in body and soul Humming as a song played... I grab my knife and chop-board Unsure of what to cook Strange inspirations possess me Filling me with ***** My kitchen becomes a stage In my hands- a plectrum and fretboard Silver utensils- my live audience!* As I play divine recipes Strumming master acoustic chords Chopping fresh, colorful vegetables. I dash to the remote, Punch "Repeat" and dash back on stage Landing on E♭ minor, Scaling impossible notes, I slice with razor-sharp plectrum, On onions and other root chords My fret arrayed with colors, Of spinach, lettuce, tomatoes Carrots, potatoes, olives Pepper, cabbage and cucumbers. I hear a thunder of applause As I ignite the cooker Butter sizzling in the hot pan A staccato of sharp notes, *Ready to modulate innocent vegetables Through spicy aromatic crescendos!* I fight hard to suppress a sneeze, No sneezing on-stage! Unprofessional! Multitudes of seconds rush by and… Voila!!! I stand for a moment Salivating, awed at my bravura! Wishing I could hang it on my wall Tis beautiful like art But I can’t eat this cake and have it! So I dig in… Heaven and earth kiss for a moment L U S C I O U S!!! Luckily, it didn’t taste nauseating Like my last attempt. No time for ceremonies I munch from pan to mouth Pausing for what may pass for a prayer, I relish every bite! Not that I’m a foodie or something, But nothing beats this combo- Of good food and soul music. And yes, *Music is indeed food to the soul!* I devour, in view- the next meal... © Raphael Uzor
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54
Life can be painless Provided there is sufficient Peacefulness For a dozen or so rituals To be repeated simply Endlessly Your genius does not fail you It allows you to understand the Truth of the situation; Which makes you--at times-- more tragic than ever And your genius, like all geniuses Suffers periodic fits of monumental naïveté Hi-ho Listen: Where is Grace When milk and blood Are about to be added To the composition of the Stinking ping-pong ***** being manufactured In Grand Rapids? Schizophrenia The sound and appearance Of the word fascinates It sounds and looks to me Like a human being Sneezing in a blizzard of Soapflakes This much we know: You made yourself hideously Uncomfortable by not narrowing Your attention to details Of life that were immediately Important And by refusing to believe what Your neighbors believed Hi-ho Let your imagination continue To be the flywheel on the Ramshackle machinery of the truth. But not the ‘awful’ truth The ‘beauty’ in truth Because we are a part Of a system that is very Restless, With people tearing around All the time Every so often, somebody stops to put up A monument Ours is a country where Everybody is expected to Pay his own bills for Everything, And one of the most Expensive things a person Can do is get sick Grace: Because if we stay here We’ll do one of two things (or both!) Build a Commune Or do like Collin Heise did: Make the main thing that we do be this: Move seventy-eight Thousand pounds of olives To Tulsa, Oklahoma Even if we can’t Improve the quality of our surroundings We’ll do our best to make our Insides beautiful instead Piebald Roadtrip-writing, baby Hi-ho You are the turtle able to live anywhere even under water for short periods With your home on your back A particular comfort in Realizing that it so often feels There is no order in the World around us That we must adapt ourselves to The requirements of Chaos instead Remember: We are healthy Only to the extent that Our ideas are Humane To you To me To ourselves To We
0
Jun 17, 2013
Jun 17, 2013 at 9:05 PM UTC
86 Kurt Vonnegut
Life can be painless Provided there is sufficient Peacefulness For a dozen or so rituals To be repeated simply Endlessly Your genius does not fail you It allows you to understand the Truth of the situation; Which makes you--at times-- more tragic than ever And your genius, like all geniuses Suffers periodic fits of monumental naïveté Hi-ho Listen: Where is Grace When milk and blood Are about to be added To the composition of the Stinking ping-pong ***** being manufactured In Grand Rapids? Schizophrenia The sound and appearance Of the word fascinates It sounds and looks to me Like a human being Sneezing in a blizzard of Soapflakes This much we know: You made yourself hideously Uncomfortable by not narrowing Your attention to details Of life that were immediately Important And by refusing to believe what Your neighbors believed Hi-ho Let your imagination continue To be the flywheel on the Ramshackle machinery of the truth. But not the ‘awful’ truth The ‘beauty’ in truth Because we are a part Of a system that is very Restless, With people tearing around All the time Every so often, somebody stops to put up A monument Ours is a country where Everybody is expected to Pay his own bills for Everything, And one of the most Expensive things a person Can do is get sick Grace: Because if we stay here We’ll do one of two things (or both!) Build a Commune Or do like Collin Heise did: Make the main thing that we do be this: Move seventy-eight Thousand pounds of olives To Tulsa, Oklahoma Even if we can’t Improve the quality of our surroundings We’ll do our best to make our Insides beautiful instead Piebald Roadtrip-writing, baby Hi-ho You are the turtle able to live anywhere even under water for short periods With your home on your back A particular comfort in Realizing that it so often feels There is no order in the World around us That we must adapt ourselves to The requirements of Chaos instead Remember: We are healthy Only to the extent that Our ideas are Humane To you To me To ourselves To We
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98
Where do you think you're going ***** Stop, I need to tell you some things which, May break your pretty silicon heart, So buckle yourself up, I'm about to start. You think that with your haughty smile, You're better than all of us by a mile, Sad to shatter your fantasy world, Now it's time to watch reality unfurl. My beauty and strength make your toes curl, My unbreakable spirit makes you want to hurl, You can crush me beneath your six-foot frame, But just know that there'll never be any shame. Honoured to be the topic of your day, The highlight of the **** you say, I'm sneezing from the stench, my eyelids they twitch, The rumours you spout, make my ears itch. Unhappy to see my smiling face? Do your eyes burn, to behold my grace? Exit to the left right out of my life, Before I come after you with a ten-inch knife.
0
Aug 22, 2015
Aug 22, 2015 at 8:53 PM UTC
Dear *****
It is And it's changing The wind into summer shower Into mushrooms and birds mouth From river to the sewer It is and it's changing From dark to light to dim with Speckles of sun born by the Mirror in you childlike hand You are catching dust bunnies Sneezing and laughing And the dirt could be followed by magic And the kiss isn't greased by the notion Of sin and the sin is only a word from the book Death and insanity Are frightening and profound Your world is built from No buts but ands And they flow into peace Just as well as the film of oil On the ***** puddle Astonishes you with An iridescent rainbow Duality is born by fear You split and separate so Caught up in the survival game To keep that face and partake Of wealth and fame Empty is locked in the dungeon And the words interlock In plain patterns Yet alive as they produce sounds And the smell of tangerines On a tree by the coast of Sicily Reminds you of the day When you could still enjoy The warmth of sun It absorbed into its juicy flesh And there's no need to run No need to stay No need to cut off the ties When life offers you more And the heat and cold are feelings That gets names as they replace each other As they flow unstoppable Dripping reactions Burning like acid and smooth like milk All in one glass And when you have no thoughts Ask questions And when you feel the pain Stay present and consider humanity
0
May 28, 2017
May 28, 2017 at 9:43 AM UTC
Undivided
Some people think that as an Adult I can be a tad rough Rock solid skin But as a Child I was exponentially Worse Kicked Screamed Cried Teased Scratched A walking terror My father deemed me "Crab-Apple Lynn" The neighbors would Whisper Of that horrid five-year-old Girl That would push and Tackle The boys down the street And on the night That I kicked my Brother's friend in the Groin And he tumbled Down the stairs Word spread like Wildfire That Crab-Apple Had struck again Notorious bully Walking with balled fists Kicking over Lincoln Logs Smashing Play-Doh sculptures Sneezing purposefully Spewing out green phlegm And wiping the boogers On fellow peers Half-grinning At their cries Feared by all But respect Was the one thing The miniature version of Me Could not earn And despite my youth Despite the over-sized chip on my shoulder Tiny me Found a way To flip around Turn a leaf Turn a page Turn a head Completely change Altogether And suddenly Crab-Apple disappeared And Sarah grew in View It was as though Somehow, someway The little me knew that Fear is worthless
0
Oct 10, 2010
Oct 10, 2010 at 9:55 PM UTC
Crab-Apple
i had a little tortoise he wasnt very well coughing and a sneezing inside his little shell he had a runny nose and began to sneeze it got to his chest and he began to wheeze i took him in the house the only thing to do he wasnt well at all he was full of flu i wrapped him in a blanket so he could sweat it out the next day he felt better and began to walk about now his cold has gone and well again once more happy and content like he was before
0
Apr 22, 2014
Apr 22, 2014 at 8:28 AM UTC
sick tortoise
When I was traversing in the alternate universe, I couldn't stop sneezing. I couldn't handle newness. No benedryll for adrenaline. The stars paved sidewalks Into the deep depths of a frozen sea, Straying salt crystals freely, Caught by the laughing galaxies, Who played marbles with dreams. My hands began to twitch Like piano ballads being spun in the air. And I when became whole; I existed, finally.
0
Jun 17, 2014
Jun 17, 2014 at 11:20 PM UTC
No benedryll for adrenaline
The apex of pleasure,    (There's nothing more pleasing), Is reaching the ******    Then powerfully sneezing. O.O
0
Aug 22, 2015
Aug 22, 2015 at 2:21 PM UTC
**** Time
Sitting there yesterday at the football game, Watching my son tackling the quarterback, Feeling the warm sun and watching him earn respect, From his teammates, made my heart proud. Looking around, I saw the cheerleaders, 11 yrs old, too. Yelling and flipping and shouting. Then from nowhere, "My glitter is sweating off!" Makes me laugh outloud.   Little kids running everywhere, Parents watching their kids, visiting, It was a great scene! Until I looked down in this sneezing little boys face, And watched him scoop up some boogers and have a snack. Looking back I suppose it is only to be expected as part of the scenery, and I can laugh now. Just as watching the cheerleaders commenting, And the poor kid who pulled a groin muscle, Hobble off the field, is part of the scene. All in all, a beautiful day, fun, family, and reality all at once.
0
Oct 11, 2010
Oct 11, 2010 at 3:56 AM UTC
At the Game
Prologue: People have their own sneezes and that is surely fine, but you need these top-notch instructions for a faultless sneeze. I will instruct you on the fine art of how to make everyone in the room feel badly for not saying "Bless you!" You will find the results of your new sneeze to be utterly awesome. People will enjoy hearing you sneeze and wonder how you perfected such a basic human function. You will love your "after" sneeze and wonder how you could ever live with your "before" sneeze. Be an "after" and stay an "after!" STEP 1: Start by breathing heavily. Gasp for air, inhale deeply. Don't make your peers think you are merely snorfling. Don't make them think you're some kind of schmuck. You want to sneeze like royalty. Take in that breath and inhale proudly. STEP 2: Rise a little, maybe even stand up, to open up the lungs. STEP 3: Let it loose, make it loud and sneeze with gusto. Make your sneeze noticeable to otherwise oblivious teachers who only notice wrong answers and very obvious text messaging during class time. Make your sneeze a TRUE distraction. STEP 4 : Before anyone says a thing, bless yourself as if no one is there, as if you were in your room all alone int he dark of the shadows where the sound of the bed creaking scares you half to death. Where the thing under your bed says means things to you while you try to drift off to sleep--where loneliness and death meet and...sorry. I got carried away. To recap step four, talk to yourself. Refer to suggestions below*. STEP 5: If no one speaks, begin to cry. Moan and wail. Wonder aloud why no one takes the moment to wish you well in your time of need. IN CONCLUSION: If none of this works to gain you attention, the blow me down and call me Sally. It's time to choose new classmates. By golly, they must be the most putrid thing any baby spit up if they don't' stop for a second and wish you a very bless-ed life from here on out. *SUGGESTIONS BELOW: "Achoo! Excuse me, bless me." "Hachoooo! Gesundheit." "Achew! Bless my soul." Warning: Sneezes have been known to spread disease. Sneeze responsibly!
0
May 15, 2014
May 15, 2014 at 2:51 AM UTC
Sneezing: 5 Sure-Fire Ways to "Bless You!"
Prologue: People have their own sneezes and that is surely fine, but you need these top-notch instructions for a faultless sneeze. I will instruct you on the fine art of how to make everyone in the room feel badly for not saying "Bless you!" You will find the results of your new sneeze to be utterly awesome. People will enjoy hearing you sneeze and wonder how you perfected such a basic human function. You will love your "after" sneeze and wonder how you could ever live with your "before" sneeze. Be an "after" and stay an "after!" STEP 1: Start by breathing heavily. Gasp for air, inhale deeply. Don't make your peers think you are merely snorfling. Don't make them think you're some kind of schmuck. You want to sneeze like royalty. Take in that breath and inhale proudly. STEP 2: Rise a little, maybe even stand up, to open up the lungs. STEP 3: Let it loose, make it loud and sneeze with gusto. Make your sneeze noticeable to otherwise oblivious teachers who only notice wrong answers and very obvious text messaging during class time. Make your sneeze a TRUE distraction. STEP 4 : Before anyone says a thing, bless yourself as if no one is there, as if you were in your room all alone int he dark of the shadows where the sound of the bed creaking scares you half to death. Where the thing under your bed says means things to you while you try to drift off to sleep--where loneliness and death meet and...sorry. I got carried away. To recap step four, talk to yourself. Refer to suggestions below*. STEP 5: If no one speaks, begin to cry. Moan and wail. Wonder aloud why no one takes the moment to wish you well in your time of need. IN CONCLUSION: If none of this works to gain you attention, the blow me down and call me Sally. It's time to choose new classmates. By golly, they must be the most putrid thing any baby spit up if they don't' stop for a second and wish you a very bless-ed life from here on out. *SUGGESTIONS BELOW: "Achoo! Excuse me, bless me." "Hachoooo! Gesundheit." "Achew! Bless my soul." Warning: Sneezes have been known to spread disease. Sneeze responsibly!
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12
Green buds, fresh mowed grass, Bees and pollen everywhere; I can't stop sneezing.
0
May 5, 2015
May 5, 2015 at 7:13 PM UTC
spring sprang sprung
do not call me a liar when you're sailing your boat into vinegar seas because my knobby knees crushed you with ease and you cried "don't hurt me, please, please, please." i wanted you dead for all the wrong reasons i killed you with time through the four seasons there isn't anything more pleasing than your cotton mouth teasing my long hair breezing and you were sick with the flu, always sneezing, sneezing, sneezing. (a.m.c.)
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Nov 28, 2014
Nov 28, 2014 at 12:29 AM UTC
{sneezing, sneezing, sneezing}
sneezing has become my main occupation I've been busy wiping up my nasally irrigation's   ten boxes of Kleenex tissue I have already used they've been frequently catching all my achoo's
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Jul 27, 2013
Jul 27, 2013 at 8:44 AM UTC
Sneezing
she was not in school for a week after that. no one thought twice about it. "maybe she's just sick..." · and she was sick just not in the way they imagined. not in the way they have all felt before; not in the sneezing way or the coughing way or the sore throat way. no, the delicate daisy had a c o n t a m i n a t e d mind.
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Jun 15, 2014
Jun 15, 2014 at 9:04 AM UTC
her sickness
Gay you ******* ****** FAGET! blue boy blues blue boy's eyes here in my room no, no, i'm bisexual, you see i'm a poet, you see I'm Bret Easton Ellis disguised in a fashion identity twisted lovers between your ragged sheets rrr-rr call me, Beverly Hills 90-210-SIX-SIX-SIX i eat more chicken than any man can meat but i'm no more mean than you here with a sick pack of abs drinking a can of beer PABST! BLUE RIBBON! Cold sirens sing for you and me SHOOT! SHOOT! SHOOT! siren's **** The protection for my love come in my eyes and insecurity no one dances in the ballroom the bride legs' are opened wide in my ***** in this dark fantasy all night touching my self behind my mother's bed ******** my mind there you're lying with me with a spike in your arm i'm troubled, you see i'm messed up, you see i'll eat your heart out, won't breathe, won't bleed and scratch and crawl i'll rip you LIMB BY LIMB she says: hold me, i'm fallin' and then i saw your face and then i saw your smile dancing to some Yeezy song on the stereo there, all alone, put your make up on and tie off my arm and turn the T.V. on and fire up these boys and give me another blow job - before i'm on the nod. *Go ahead and smile, you **** I've rotten and snorted, sneezing other men's ***** in your room - milked you like a cow - loved you like my mom. And i'm nothing but an used ****** Love: the kind of thing you clean with a mop and bucket.
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Oct 22, 2015
Oct 22, 2015 at 12:29 PM UTC
I'm offensive and I find this Asian
what am i about giving you no gifts unable to pin my finger on a theme phenomenal you with whom i play away the year, yearned love from a decade's dream you've swayed into the real to flesh it here and interrupt all Being with a node of savvy personality i lessen if i think my words can measure that, how you emerge there, change come across the shore of presence, waves of filtered seas deeply you have gone and risen from within expanding metaphor in a lambency of ageless gazing at the stars and giving all a joyful undercurrent swim. luffa vines abound, for future shiny backskins arching bliss-- shedding all, i snake my way around the roots-- the yellow sheen fades and pupils zero intimate a finer lived experience... ripe intrusion truly love in tune with tips of sneezing hearts, curling toes unite, shout an intertwining pelvic orbit vaster space to yet unmake unspoken pleasures wide in everpresent fontanels the spectra plenum here again, next breath, ends of in, ends of out
0
Mar 25, 2013
Mar 25, 2013 at 11:16 PM UTC
sponge generous
i cant stop sneezing it took me fifteen minutes to write that its my birthday but i dont deserve it i realize myself in sharp bursts slices between when its all mechanical closing one eye to type and record it look at my filthy fingers scrub cuticles and continue what abhorrent keys clean those (sneeze) behind me rhythmic tickling (sneeze) pirouette (sneeze)
0
Mar 2, 2013
Mar 2, 2013 at 2:49 PM UTC
self depricaction (sneeze)
people -- blue jeans -- t-shirts -- volleyball -- sparklers -- *** its -- stone bridge -- pine trees -- new trees -- old trees -- fireworks -- grass -- sonic boom -- picnic chairs -- bicycles -- oak trees -- bare neck -- tickles -- sneezing -- bless you -- slight chill -- cloud cover -- police cars -- policemen -- uniforms -- night sticks -- sweat pants -- baby strollers -- skull & crossbones -- muscle shirt -- sweat shirt -- baseball caps -- fountains of sparks -- greenery -- dandelions -- yellow weeds -- wafting smoke -- black man in white shirt -- white man in black shirt -- SUV -- Boxer dog -- red wagon -- smoke stacks -- asian couple -- running shorts -- acrid smoke -- ice cream truck -- double trees -- pony tail -- mosquitos -- fishing hat -- yellow truck -- handlebar mustache -- bad *** attitude -- shaved head -- balloon -- barbeque -- sunset -- affro -- tennis shoes -- multi-colored hair -- canoe -- golden purse -- playing band -- American flag -- folding chair -- name badge -- red, white, & blue -- skipping rocks -- cargo shorts -- matching couple -- bike path -- hippie hair -- low rider -- peace sign -- golden chains -- waning moon -- waxed legs -- hoodies -- striped shirt -- victory dance -- short shorts -- cigar smoke -- watermelon -- Viking's bag -- leopard skin jacket -- skooter -- digital camera -- creepy stalker dude -- tent building -- horeshoes -- personal space invaders -- glow sticks -- picnic basket -- cooler -- smoke bombs -- plaid skirt -- 77 sweats -- interracial couples -- motorcycle -- orange vest -- plastic ball -- face paint -- cops in two different uniforms -- split tree -- pregnant lady -- trash talking horeshoe player -- street lamps -- playing tag -- large blue cooler -- bright green pants -- humorless boy
0
Oct 27, 2014
Oct 27, 2014 at 5:40 PM UTC
Fourth of July
people -- blue jeans -- t-shirts -- volleyball -- sparklers -- *** its -- stone bridge -- pine trees -- new trees -- old trees -- fireworks -- grass -- sonic boom -- picnic chairs -- bicycles -- oak trees -- bare neck -- tickles -- sneezing -- bless you -- slight chill -- cloud cover -- police cars -- policemen -- uniforms -- night sticks -- sweat pants -- baby strollers -- skull & crossbones -- muscle shirt -- sweat shirt -- baseball caps -- fountains of sparks -- greenery -- dandelions -- yellow weeds -- wafting smoke -- black man in white shirt -- white man in black shirt -- SUV -- Boxer dog -- red wagon -- smoke stacks -- asian couple -- running shorts -- acrid smoke -- ice cream truck -- double trees -- pony tail -- mosquitos -- fishing hat -- yellow truck -- handlebar mustache -- bad *** attitude -- shaved head -- balloon -- barbeque -- sunset -- affro -- tennis shoes -- multi-colored hair -- canoe -- golden purse -- playing band -- American flag -- folding chair -- name badge -- red, white, & blue -- skipping rocks -- cargo shorts -- matching couple -- bike path -- hippie hair -- low rider -- peace sign -- golden chains -- waning moon -- waxed legs -- hoodies -- striped shirt -- victory dance -- short shorts -- cigar smoke -- watermelon -- Viking's bag -- leopard skin jacket -- skooter -- digital camera -- creepy stalker dude -- tent building -- horeshoes -- personal space invaders -- glow sticks -- picnic basket -- cooler -- smoke bombs -- plaid skirt -- 77 sweats -- interracial couples -- motorcycle -- orange vest -- plastic ball -- face paint -- cops in two different uniforms -- split tree -- pregnant lady -- trash talking horeshoe player -- street lamps -- playing tag -- large blue cooler -- bright green pants -- humorless boy
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1
I open the old, dusty attic window Closed for so long, house of another Charlotte And though it takes time, and the dust, Still, I open the old, dusty attic window. I had no plans on sneezing, no dust will make me sneeze, is what I said And I had time to spare, if there ever was time to be nostalgic, it was this. I open, open the old, dusty attic window And see, through both black and white and colored, simultaneously, I see the memories Flashing back, like they weren't mine. Are they real? Yes, they are. They just don't feel like they come from me. More like I'm audience inside me Through the old, dusty attic window. I play through the see-saw, and slide down the slide, swing through the swing, all the while with different, many, many different people. But she is the one I remember most. She makes me sneeze, from the dust. I should have known, and I sit And watch the two of us, just the two of us. How she would share the slide, and push my swing with her might And how I'd refuse to let her play Just make her push me, and push. How she'd be the tag, and look and look for me, only to realize That I have left her, have left her counting, and hoping, and alone. How I'd push her so she'd hurt herself. How I'd almost push her so she'd still get hurt anyway. How she'd look up and smile and stand. How she'd sometimes go quiet, some- times go sad, though she'd never really show, and still smile, and push my swing and play with me. How I'd turn my back when I think she needed me most, and convince myself that for some reason she deserved it, to be alone. And I wonder now, when I turned my back, did she ever cry? Was I important enough to have called to surface The tears she so effectively can hide? Did she love me enough that she could endure? Or was I nothing so she could shrug off the bullyings that I did? And I close the old, dusty attic window Because she makes the dust make me sneeze. And I still sneeze, because she always could, Always, make the dust make me sneeze. And now that she's in another playground With more willing playmates who don't leave Her alone in hide & seek, I wish to go back and have her again. And I think if I could have moved on To the next playground with her, would she still have played with me, Although she is well-loved by others? And I know (like I always have, only that I was too selfish to acknowledge) that I have hurt her, and she did not deserve But still she stayed with me. And I will always sneeze from her dust Her way to remind me, my way to remind me That for all the times she smiled, for all the times I hurt her, I hurt myself more.
0
Jan 10, 2013
Jan 10, 2013 at 7:45 AM UTC
I hurt myself more for hurting a friend
I open the old, dusty attic window Closed for so long, house of another Charlotte And though it takes time, and the dust, Still, I open the old, dusty attic window. I had no plans on sneezing, no dust will make me sneeze, is what I said And I had time to spare, if there ever was time to be nostalgic, it was this. I open, open the old, dusty attic window And see, through both black and white and colored, simultaneously, I see the memories Flashing back, like they weren't mine. Are they real? Yes, they are. They just don't feel like they come from me. More like I'm audience inside me Through the old, dusty attic window. I play through the see-saw, and slide down the slide, swing through the swing, all the while with different, many, many different people. But she is the one I remember most. She makes me sneeze, from the dust. I should have known, and I sit And watch the two of us, just the two of us. How she would share the slide, and push my swing with her might And how I'd refuse to let her play Just make her push me, and push. How she'd be the tag, and look and look for me, only to realize That I have left her, have left her counting, and hoping, and alone. How I'd push her so she'd hurt herself. How I'd almost push her so she'd still get hurt anyway. How she'd look up and smile and stand. How she'd sometimes go quiet, some- times go sad, though she'd never really show, and still smile, and push my swing and play with me. How I'd turn my back when I think she needed me most, and convince myself that for some reason she deserved it, to be alone. And I wonder now, when I turned my back, did she ever cry? Was I important enough to have called to surface The tears she so effectively can hide? Did she love me enough that she could endure? Or was I nothing so she could shrug off the bullyings that I did? And I close the old, dusty attic window Because she makes the dust make me sneeze. And I still sneeze, because she always could, Always, make the dust make me sneeze. And now that she's in another playground With more willing playmates who don't leave Her alone in hide & seek, I wish to go back and have her again. And I think if I could have moved on To the next playground with her, would she still have played with me, Although she is well-loved by others? And I know (like I always have, only that I was too selfish to acknowledge) that I have hurt her, and she did not deserve But still she stayed with me. And I will always sneeze from her dust Her way to remind me, my way to remind me That for all the times she smiled, for all the times I hurt her, I hurt myself more.
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72
we found him laying barely breathing and now were sitting silently grieving the information were receiving seems to be so unpleasing so cold hearted almost freezing cant stop the sniffling constant sneezing full of cries not only weezing from the pain your death is leaving
0
Dec 23, 2010
Dec 23, 2010 at 7:28 PM UTC
Untitled
Allergies exist on a scale From mild to severe I once had a friend Who did not understand why I had allergies Why I always sneezed And had to blow my nose Why I always opened a window And looked like **** The allergies became a nuisance to people Annoying In the way Obstructive Then one day That friend developed allergies He came over sneezing Is this what it’s like?! I feel so bad for you I never knew how it felt My body is attacking me It’s horrible You don’t have to experience things To show kindness Simple acts of sympathy and empathy Carry other miles
0
Jan 14, 2015
Jan 14, 2015 at 12:03 PM UTC
Allegory of Depression
and some came up with this philosophy stemming from internet usage pleading for anonymity, but then someone decided - **** it, i want to have a digital presence like i have a presence on the street - and the phonebook needs updating in the globalised world - this someone also thought about turtles among achilles hares; this aside, something had to be kept from the 20th century living, after all certain things retain this antique quality to them, the sort of nostalgia i have in competition with the german romanticism that focused its nostalgia on ancient greece... as far as my nostalgia goes, it spans the years 1960s - 2007 / 8, and it’s alive, it’s organic, you won’t have to go an see and touch the acropolis or enter the sneezing room of a library with ancients texts.
0
Oct 24, 2015
Oct 24, 2015 at 9:52 AM UTC
a turtle among achilles hares