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"soreness" poems
* A shower of harmful Atom; Wipe off,Hiroshima and Nagasaki, mothers; children ; Soreness still strikes their hearts! * BY WILLIAMSJI MAVELI A HAIKU POEM
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Aug 7, 2013
Aug 7, 2013 at 9:52 AM UTC
Hiroshima Oh Hiroshima !
all things are useful, bulbs bring light , denote ideas, good intentions, spent, collected. cotton hankies, frayed hold the books, yet those with nylon, stretch the skin resulting in red and soreness. shy away from dangerous commodities, use the best, those tradtional artefacts which are gentle on your soul, bring light. wipe your nose clean. sbm. today we have added notes for your interest. A HANDKERCHIEF (also called handkercher or hanky) is a form of a kerchief, typically a hemmed square of thin fabric that can be carried in the pocket or purse, and which is intended for personal hygiene purposes such as wiping one’s hands or face, or blowing one’s nose. A handkerchief is also sometimes used as a purely decorative accessory in a suit pocket. When used as an accessory to a suit, a handkerchief is known as a POCKET SQUARE. There are a wide variety of ways to fold a pocket square, ranging from the austere to the flamboyant. The material of a handkerchief can be symbolic of the social-economic class of the user, not only because some materials are more expensive, but because some materials are more absorbent and practical for those who use a handkerchief for more than style. Handkerchiefs can be made of cotton, cotton-synthetic blend, synthetic fabric, silk, or linen. Historically, white handkerchiefs have been used in place of a white flag to indicate surrender or a flag of truce; in addition to waving away sailors from port. King Richard II of England, who reigned from 1377 to 1399, is widely believed to have invented the cloth handkerchief, as surviving documents written by his courtiers describe his use of square pieces of cloth to wipe his nose.
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Jun 9, 2014
Jun 9, 2014 at 1:33 AM UTC
. light bulbs and handkerchiefs .
all things are useful, bulbs bring light , denote ideas, good intentions, spent, collected. cotton hankies, frayed hold the books, yet those with nylon, stretch the skin resulting in red and soreness. shy away from dangerous commodities, use the best, those tradtional artefacts which are gentle on your soul, bring light. wipe your nose clean. sbm. today we have added notes for your interest. A HANDKERCHIEF (also called handkercher or hanky) is a form of a kerchief, typically a hemmed square of thin fabric that can be carried in the pocket or purse, and which is intended for personal hygiene purposes such as wiping one’s hands or face, or blowing one’s nose. A handkerchief is also sometimes used as a purely decorative accessory in a suit pocket. When used as an accessory to a suit, a handkerchief is known as a POCKET SQUARE. There are a wide variety of ways to fold a pocket square, ranging from the austere to the flamboyant. The material of a handkerchief can be symbolic of the social-economic class of the user, not only because some materials are more expensive, but because some materials are more absorbent and practical for those who use a handkerchief for more than style. Handkerchiefs can be made of cotton, cotton-synthetic blend, synthetic fabric, silk, or linen. Historically, white handkerchiefs have been used in place of a white flag to indicate surrender or a flag of truce; in addition to waving away sailors from port. King Richard II of England, who reigned from 1377 to 1399, is widely believed to have invented the cloth handkerchief, as surviving documents written by his courtiers describe his use of square pieces of cloth to wipe his nose.
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16
What is a loser? Someone spiraling within a microcosm of unfortunate events? Or forgetting to update one’s facebook status in the macrocosm of tiresome vents? People nowadays throw around insults as smiles and cheek, Loser is a mere phrase between impudence and courageousness, sheik.   Many forget the power in which words command, “Sticks and stones may break my bones”, but words unmanned.. Rip the heart and soul and cannot withstand, The ebbing soreness of our confused migraine. Perhaps I misunderstand. Twenty-first century loser on the other hand, Means you've made it into the ‘in-crowd’, Enshroud, Rain twinkling like stars, Bicycles feeling like cars. Yet heed this warning with everlasting effect, Your words are yours to not neglect, Take pride in your intellect! Those hearts you may sway, With words of colour and not grey, As sweet as if valentine’s day. May encroach your direction through doors unknown, Before hinged like an Antarctic zone, Forget “loser”, create your throne.
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Aug 18, 2014
Aug 18, 2014 at 7:35 PM UTC
What is a loser?
My eyes a pure olive-green color Aren't reflecting love or pleasure Between this black pupil and iris World of strength and mysteries And you'll see that my eyes won't blink From your camera flash and the sound of click Because my strong features reflect my firmness And the pain of the camps and its soreness But deeply you can see a shocked young girl Who ran away from a fierce war to another terrible region So do not ask , show me your smile My silent lips reflect the world silence My eyes fascinate you? , yeah I know Everyone bewitched, but no one ask how do you do? However, the force which glitter in my eyes You will not see it anywhere else I do not know if my picture would be deployed Or you would keep it after this year All I know is the point of my life has changed since 1984 Toka Kentar © all rights received
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May 31, 2014
May 31, 2014 at 11:49 AM UTC
Green Eyes
Do you remember anything?   " I told them I didn't, But I remember it all.  It was darkness..  A sort of darkness that for a moment I thought no light could shine in it..  I was numb all over.  At first I thought I was dead.  I started to ask myself, (Is this what its like to be dead) but then slowly the feeling would creep back into my limbs..  I then heard three different sets of voices.  They scared me to no end because what ever they were they seem to be communicating with eachother. Their voices sounded like hisses mixed in with strange deep tones from an ***** Thats the best I can explain.   I started to feel pressure in my hands and feet.  Then in my chest and stomach..  After that I felt cold and hot, then hot then cold..  Next was the crawling feeling all over my body..  It felt like large cockroaches were running all over my body.  Then came the sounds. From my left side then my right.  Then both sides, and then all around me..  I knew I was being tested on by something..  The last thing I saw was a door of light. It hurt my eyes so bad.. I then saw three silhouettes standing in the light.. After that I awoke here in the woods.. It seem like it was a dream.. But my soreness in my body told me it wasn't! ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Vialarkeris:  Data Human Lifeform"""Project Helix heal"""" Male human :  W.B.C. EXTRACTION.. Our planet is being ravaged by an acute viral nasopharyngitis.. We have no way to stop it.  Millions have died. No cure can be found.. That is until today. History has been made in the most wonderful way possible.. We infected a male human lifeform with the virus and found that his body (although super feeble) was able to fight of the infection. It took a matter of only 2 days for his body to fully purge out the virus.. We were able to narrow down a cell within the human known as a white blood cell (W.B.C.) which could counter the virus and purge it out of the body. Although feeble the humans have a much better immune system than we do.  The human was returned near his home and saw it all as a dream.  Little did he know that he saved an entire advanced civilization with just a veil of his blood..
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Feb 27, 2017
Feb 27, 2017 at 3:14 PM UTC
Do you remember anything?
Do you remember anything?   " I told them I didn't, But I remember it all.  It was darkness..  A sort of darkness that for a moment I thought no light could shine in it..  I was numb all over.  At first I thought I was dead.  I started to ask myself, (Is this what its like to be dead) but then slowly the feeling would creep back into my limbs..  I then heard three different sets of voices.  They scared me to no end because what ever they were they seem to be communicating with eachother. Their voices sounded like hisses mixed in with strange deep tones from an ***** Thats the best I can explain.   I started to feel pressure in my hands and feet.  Then in my chest and stomach..  After that I felt cold and hot, then hot then cold..  Next was the crawling feeling all over my body..  It felt like large cockroaches were running all over my body.  Then came the sounds. From my left side then my right.  Then both sides, and then all around me..  I knew I was being tested on by something..  The last thing I saw was a door of light. It hurt my eyes so bad.. I then saw three silhouettes standing in the light.. After that I awoke here in the woods.. It seem like it was a dream.. But my soreness in my body told me it wasn't! ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Vialarkeris:  Data Human Lifeform"""Project Helix heal"""" Male human :  W.B.C. EXTRACTION.. Our planet is being ravaged by an acute viral nasopharyngitis.. We have no way to stop it.  Millions have died. No cure can be found.. That is until today. History has been made in the most wonderful way possible.. We infected a male human lifeform with the virus and found that his body (although super feeble) was able to fight of the infection. It took a matter of only 2 days for his body to fully purge out the virus.. We were able to narrow down a cell within the human known as a white blood cell (W.B.C.) which could counter the virus and purge it out of the body. Although feeble the humans have a much better immune system than we do.  The human was returned near his home and saw it all as a dream.  Little did he know that he saved an entire advanced civilization with just a veil of his blood..
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6
Motion makes me homesick, home makes me motion-sick. I've seen some **** you wouldn't believe in the past month of my young life I'm happy. Makes me want more. I want Guatemala I want Nepal I want the States by trains and motorcycles. I want to make something tall enough to shake hands with god and strong enough to last to the ends of the earth Or longer. I want to give the world back all I've taken from it and all the damage I've done. And then I want to do more. I want to start a revolution, live on a farm, paint a mural, play a symphony, shake hands with the Dalai Lama, write a book, and be home in time for dinner. I want to fold a thousand and one oragami cranes and set them free from space and while they float down to Mauritania and Portugal, to Argentina and Cambodia I want to wish for a reset button. Not to use right away, but just in case **** gets out of hand. So we've got a backup plan. I want to sit in my old age looking down that darkened tunnel and see my own birth pass before my eyes. I want to embrace infinity without soreness or shortcomings, without excuses or refusals I want to watch the universe collapse back in on itself and be part of everything at once. I want more than I can handle. I guess that means I'm young.
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Oct 24, 2013
Oct 24, 2013 at 1:28 AM UTC
Young
sleepy eyes open glimpse high ceiling red wood beams house built in 1920s glance out window tree tops blue skies mountains in distance flock of birds flying east chirping sounds passing car engine accelerates inhale deep breath through nose stretch legs plantar dorsal flex feet raise arms over head stiffness in shoulder feel strange sensitivity in right pectoral above ****** cautiously examine with hands feel coarse lump growing more like nub smell moss glare down at growth protruding from chest panicky by soreness rise from bed to mirror on closet door tree stem jutting out from chest inspect dark bark like calloused growth little leafs budding this cannot be race in nervous tantrum run to bathroom suffer painful weight pulling me down clutching carrying foliated limb with arms see myself in mirror horrified stagger back to bed lie on right side branch resting on mattress breathe anxious breaths reexamine pectoral area feel sinewy roots spreading under skin across chest up neck down over stomach waist legs forget how to get home disorientated nauseous exhausted what is this flora invading me ******* kafka metamorphosis post-modern hyper-real narration without accountability jorge luis borges metaphor without mindfulness fairytale run wild jean baudrillard simulacrum psychosis room now filling with plant undergrowth stinking of earth dirt gooey slugs worms shells bugs festering climbing towards windows voracious for light warmth moisture blocking out morning sun entire body trapped in tangled twisted leafy twigs excruciating pain fright lungs gasping suffocating encroaching darkness fatigue loss surrender wake up 4 AM from nightmare scared to fall back to sleep
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Mar 6, 2010
Mar 6, 2010 at 3:45 AM UTC
remember to water garden
sleepy eyes open glimpse high ceiling red wood beams house built in 1920s glance out window tree tops blue skies mountains in distance flock of birds flying east chirping sounds passing car engine accelerates inhale deep breath through nose stretch legs plantar dorsal flex feet raise arms over head stiffness in shoulder feel strange sensitivity in right pectoral above ****** cautiously examine with hands feel coarse lump growing more like nub smell moss glare down at growth protruding from chest panicky by soreness rise from bed to mirror on closet door tree stem jutting out from chest inspect dark bark like calloused growth little leafs budding this cannot be race in nervous tantrum run to bathroom suffer painful weight pulling me down clutching carrying foliated limb with arms see myself in mirror horrified stagger back to bed lie on right side branch resting on mattress breathe anxious breaths reexamine pectoral area feel sinewy roots spreading under skin across chest up neck down over stomach waist legs forget how to get home disorientated nauseous exhausted what is this flora invading me ******* kafka metamorphosis post-modern hyper-real narration without accountability jorge luis borges metaphor without mindfulness fairytale run wild jean baudrillard simulacrum psychosis room now filling with plant undergrowth stinking of earth dirt gooey slugs worms shells bugs festering climbing towards windows voracious for light warmth moisture blocking out morning sun entire body trapped in tangled twisted leafy twigs excruciating pain fright lungs gasping suffocating encroaching darkness fatigue loss surrender wake up 4 AM from nightmare scared to fall back to sleep
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1
I sit at home at my desk alone as I used to do on many sunday afternoons when you came back to me, your arms ached for me, and your arms would close me in though they smelled of other women. I think of you on Sunday afternoons. Your sweet head would bow, like a child somehow, down to me - and your hair and your eyes were wild. We would embrace on the floor- You see my back´s still sore. You knew how easily I bruised, It´s a soreness I would never lose. I think of you on Sunday afternoons.
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2.7k
Sunday Afternoons
Dreamer, dreamer, you always wake up as if you haven't slept, and all it is that you've kept... the fatigue of your trials, the soreness of your miles, the torment of the lifestyles. Your sleep is all dreams, stemming out from your river of life like streams. You dream of everything that you can't do, and what the world deems impossible. Incomprehensible, to everyone but you. Dreamer, dreamer, is there anyone to watch over you in your slumber? They could give you a number, of the hours of your rest. It's long enough to slip into dreaming, but lately it's seeming, not enough to give you energy. Dreamer, dreamer, if you ever sleep enough, if you ever don't dream, you'll notice the fatigue doesn't go away, but you hope it will anyway. You're scared to find out, so you keep on restricting your time in bed, even though it's slowing down your head. I don't have a doubt, you're tired beyond dreaming. Dreamer, dreamer, there are things to take for your rest. You try your best, oh dreamer, you do, but there are some things you just can't do. Dreamer, dreamer, how do you do it?
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May 19, 2018
May 19, 2018 at 9:13 AM UTC
DREAMER
Vitamin Forest nurture in nature healing the soreness from legislature metropolitan heart the sreets pulse like veins each hour depart clogged artery trains a lifeless appendage bleeding the suburb with no one to bandage deluge to each curb renewable resource found in rurality we ask for remorse draught, virus plurality Human being cancer lets all dissolve to find out the answer and utter resolve if the soul of a monster's sins be absolved
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May 14, 2013
May 14, 2013 at 12:19 PM UTC
Redundant Abundance
It's in the morning, at the rise of the sun, when memories float back to you and the remnants of your smile from last night reappears in the soreness of your cheeks and the tightening of your jaw where beauty manifests itself throughout nature. From the distant tolling of church bells, tolling away in their perfect habitual melody, to the sounds of lovers silently waking one another and relishing at the sounds of their respected voices. Its in this moment that the dream and reality mesh with one another. Never truly revealing which is which leaving you in a blissful ignorance peppered with false hopes and beautiful truths. Its through the fog of your alcohol addled mind that a light appears and guides you to wonders untold, leading to a discovery of discoveries revealing a magic long lost to this universe. Down the neck of a dark blue bottle lined with platinum flows my intuition and aspiration. Its now that i drink and discover a new reality. Namaste.
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Dec 30, 2013
Dec 30, 2013 at 5:28 AM UTC
Namaste
Aching bones, morning soreness Hit the alarm, ignore the snooze 5 am my body aches, it begs for sleep I must continue, fight this pain Even when it hurts I must find a way This pain I must get through Set after set I lift metal, jump hurdles, curl bells, Aching bones speak to me begging me to give up Ignore that last set, try again tomorrow Here I go, knees shaking, back aching, palms sweating, fingers swollen, head spinning I lift that last set because I am a warrior, a soldier, a fighter and not a quitter
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Jul 17, 2018
Jul 17, 2018 at 10:27 PM UTC
Aching Bones
O my sacred, Shower me with your greatness. Bring it up to my neck, And drown me in the lake bed. O how secret, and so delicate, Fear in trust involved. It's not a secret anyways, If nothing's getting solved. I love, I trust, I need you, In fear I live all time. My words in hope to mean them, So that you'll say "You're mine" O my sacred, Take myself and make it yours. This day is nothing to you, Your love fills my empty lake bed. A love, that's secrets tale, One month, forever it lasted. The tale of two, of many, At each other, love was blasted. No one way to say it right, Four ways to say I Love You. Just take me as I am, And know that I'm thinking of you. O my sacred, Unto you I do trust. No lake bed full of: doubt, anger, mistrust, jealousy, regret, pain, hurt, love, hate, lust, health, disease, space, time, pity, indulgence, sorrow, mourning, evil, distress, affliction, trouble, breaks, insignificance, remorse, agony, peril, skeptics, insecurities, uncertainty, question, suspicion, difficulty, dilemma, depression, belief, worry, conviction, cruelty, discredit, hesitation, unhappiness, calamity, travesty, grief, hardship, loss, suffering, weeping, sadness, heartache, lament, excruciation, torture, soreness, discomfort, penalty, torment, torture, harm, malicion, malevolence, prejudice ,detriment, disservice, misfortune, abuse, effort, labor, endeavor, strength, power, energy, operation, mistreat, undermining, blemish, flaw, disservance, misery, injury, exertion, struggle, trial, madness, wrath, rampage, harassment, irritation, exasperation, rage, tantrum, infuriation, mischief, inequality, alienation, aggravation, annoyance, contagion, trauma, damage, insults, violation, wrong, flesh, or **** ...ANYTHING between us, Vanquished because I must!
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Oct 23, 2011
Oct 23, 2011 at 9:52 PM UTC
My Sacred
O my sacred, Shower me with your greatness. Bring it up to my neck, And drown me in the lake bed. O how secret, and so delicate, Fear in trust involved. It's not a secret anyways, If nothing's getting solved. I love, I trust, I need you, In fear I live all time. My words in hope to mean them, So that you'll say "You're mine" O my sacred, Take myself and make it yours. This day is nothing to you, Your love fills my empty lake bed. A love, that's secrets tale, One month, forever it lasted. The tale of two, of many, At each other, love was blasted. No one way to say it right, Four ways to say I Love You. Just take me as I am, And know that I'm thinking of you. O my sacred, Unto you I do trust. No lake bed full of: doubt, anger, mistrust, jealousy, regret, pain, hurt, love, hate, lust, health, disease, space, time, pity, indulgence, sorrow, mourning, evil, distress, affliction, trouble, breaks, insignificance, remorse, agony, peril, skeptics, insecurities, uncertainty, question, suspicion, difficulty, dilemma, depression, belief, worry, conviction, cruelty, discredit, hesitation, unhappiness, calamity, travesty, grief, hardship, loss, suffering, weeping, sadness, heartache, lament, excruciation, torture, soreness, discomfort, penalty, torment, torture, harm, malicion, malevolence, prejudice ,detriment, disservice, misfortune, abuse, effort, labor, endeavor, strength, power, energy, operation, mistreat, undermining, blemish, flaw, disservance, misery, injury, exertion, struggle, trial, madness, wrath, rampage, harassment, irritation, exasperation, rage, tantrum, infuriation, mischief, inequality, alienation, aggravation, annoyance, contagion, trauma, damage, insults, violation, wrong, flesh, or **** ...ANYTHING between us, Vanquished because I must!
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30
existing in this land-sphere quite touch-and-go when you stare for something that you hope to when something expects to be with you until you discern that you obtained neither things are unreachable on your own limitation useless is your own notion to gain nothing is the best way out that you ever made the excitement is just filled with none nothingness but the soreness
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Nov 4, 2020
Nov 4, 2020 at 9:14 AM UTC
being rejected is the same feeling as rejecting
It's a little melancholy. You awaken feelings which pang and pull, A soreness from misuse, feelings full of Memory. And I am too old now to follow them through The way I want to
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Sep 15, 2018
Sep 15, 2018 at 4:03 PM UTC
Men and their memory foam beds-
Roused by its touch, a brush of cold air on my whole being; am now taking in the cold 4am air, as the eyes struggle to a still dark horizon. Yet, it's already brimming with a series of breaths. It is automatic, this habit of taking in each morning's freshness by the window...by the door, inhaling its serenity, slowly extricating the soreness, the brokenness of days past, lingering still, invading still a most precious solitude. The atmosphere, already is filled with a variety of breaths: of faith, of hope, of silent prayers, and of endless gratitude. The fragrance of dawn blends with raw anticipation, bits of uncertainty, and not to forget the most welcome aroma of hot coffee, as a new day kicks off. sally b © Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan August 9, 2024/6:56 PM
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Aug 9, 2024
Aug 9, 2024 at 7:05 AM UTC
Breaths
I tasted every bitter lie As you shoved them down my throat Now I'm full of poison-soaked phrases Badly in need of an antidote Lost promises rest in my abdomen Next to the deception I was fed I need a cure for untrue words Before this illness renders me dead Fallacies come crawling back up Venom rising in my windpipe Sick to my stomach with acceptance Your falsehoods have become overripe I can't contain the toxic deceit It's overflowing from my gut Excuses pour out from my mouth Alibis Ive managed to rebut The ***** burns my weary tongue Sour as it leaves my lips Betrayal has me feeling queasy Unwell from hearing your rehearsed scripts My stomach empties it's contents Spewing intricate facades Until it is rid of all the Charades, illusions, and frauds Infected with dishonesty My body is rocked by unease I've taken a turn for the worse Consumed by this relentless disease This virus I have come down with Takes it's toll on my heart and mind I grow more fatigued each day But relief I have yet to find Chills, shakes, soreness, and migraines Plague my organs, bones, and skin My muscles are endlessly cramping I loathe the fever I'm burning in I do not know why I feast on your contaminated reality I'm sure if I continue to I will soon be a fatality My health is deteriorating Still i dine on fantasies unreal I hope for a miracle pill but My flesh may not be able to heal I fear I'll be plagued as long as I Swallow your lies, deranged and uncouth The cure I have been longing for is a simple medicine called Truth
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Feb 15, 2018
Feb 15, 2018 at 5:33 AM UTC
Feast Of Lies
I tasted every bitter lie As you shoved them down my throat Now I'm full of poison-soaked phrases Badly in need of an antidote Lost promises rest in my abdomen Next to the deception I was fed I need a cure for untrue words Before this illness renders me dead Fallacies come crawling back up Venom rising in my windpipe Sick to my stomach with acceptance Your falsehoods have become overripe I can't contain the toxic deceit It's overflowing from my gut Excuses pour out from my mouth Alibis Ive managed to rebut The ***** burns my weary tongue Sour as it leaves my lips Betrayal has me feeling queasy Unwell from hearing your rehearsed scripts My stomach empties it's contents Spewing intricate facades Until it is rid of all the Charades, illusions, and frauds Infected with dishonesty My body is rocked by unease I've taken a turn for the worse Consumed by this relentless disease This virus I have come down with Takes it's toll on my heart and mind I grow more fatigued each day But relief I have yet to find Chills, shakes, soreness, and migraines Plague my organs, bones, and skin My muscles are endlessly cramping I loathe the fever I'm burning in I do not know why I feast on your contaminated reality I'm sure if I continue to I will soon be a fatality My health is deteriorating Still i dine on fantasies unreal I hope for a miracle pill but My flesh may not be able to heal I fear I'll be plagued as long as I Swallow your lies, deranged and uncouth The cure I have been longing for is a simple medicine called Truth
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48
a soreness behind the eyes eyelashes are made of metal heavy metals clack clack blink the metals attract each other top and bottom my eyelids are not strong enough just give in to the weight
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Mar 21, 2012
Mar 21, 2012 at 5:53 PM UTC
Frustration
my mother's strength could rustle tree branches, knock down houses and push through walls. and her hope, that feminine aching for things to be better, she shows the rest of us what it's like to be warm even through her shivers, my mother knows the soreness in my knuckles, she asks me every time, my mother strikes a chord in me tender and careful, she carries the child i will continue to be even as i move on from her the way she holds us, her arms are temples to me i've never known another shelter so holy, and every time she cries i want to open up a wound within myself, so i can cry along with her, i walk beside her so she'll never be alone, my mother never deserves to feel alone. this forest heart will go on longing for my mother's open skies.
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Sep 7, 2012
Sep 7, 2012 at 7:43 PM UTC
homesick
you said its what you needed. what the doctor had ordered. picked it up from the pharmacy. it would ease the discomfort, aches, pains, soreness, and finally you would feel yourself again. after all the years of suffering, you could finally love me right. but i don't recall doctors prescribing whiskey in a prescription bottle.
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Mar 21, 2019
Mar 21, 2019 at 10:19 AM UTC
prescription bottles
We are thousand miles away. Still I say,'stay away'. People meet either because they are meant to be isolated or to be in their life forever. We know we want each other,knowing that it won't happen. Are you here to lessen my soreness and increase my my sprits. Let me tell you dear,I am in love and relationship with lugubrious. I am the most propitious and wealthiest person because I had had ever you in my lifetime, a cache. What are we meant for? For schism or forever? When we are meant for nix,then let us not give each other unfulfilling expectations.
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Feb 23, 2017
Feb 23, 2017 at 1:25 AM UTC
Why did we meet?
I manage to walk a few miles every 2 or 3 days in a failing effort to loosen the muscles and ease the soreness of bad knees and a dissolving spine we no longer discuss when it will happen but rather when did it happen exactly what day did the line go straight and then turn downward ever so slightly there is some comfort in having friends with the same affliction I am pulled back to the Ocean drawn like an addict to the smell every group of gulls riding the shoreline every hour slowed I feel energy there as the Sun lowers as the children and fisherman return home as the whispers of those gone before me are carried by the ocean breeze
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Nov 17, 2021
Nov 17, 2021 at 11:10 PM UTC
waiting on time
I remember how it felt and every dark and angry pain, the feeling of tender soreness from every ache and throbbing sprain. I remember ruptured internals and the fire of an appendix burst, and the excruciating agony at every touch that was loudly cursed. I remember the touch of many physical pains that left me feeling sore, But nothing hurts so much as that last time you left my door.
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Dec 20, 2020
Dec 20, 2020 at 3:38 PM UTC
Mortal Wounds