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"sportscenter" poems
SELFISH! SELFISH! SELFISH! My love, what is your schedule like tomorrow? do you have time to say "i love you"? do you have time to get my birthday presents? to remember it's our anniversary? My love, is it too much trouble to step away from the television? I know you love your re-runs, but I can be entertaining too My love, did you forget? when you thought I was beautiful? when you appreciated me? when you wanted to make me smile? My love, wouldn't you agree? that no one has ever given you as much as me? that my happiness is just as important as yours? that I at least deserve your honesty? My love, I'm sure you're right facebook, sportscenter, warcraft, television they deserve your time and attention after all, I am only comfortable and convenient My love, Don't worry I understand we all need a warm body to use when we need a hand.
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Dec 18, 2012
Dec 18, 2012 at 7:09 PM UTC
SELFISH
I love petrichor ; The way that seconds after the first few drops start falling ; The scent of Ozone fills the air . I love the smell of fall, The beauty of trees showing us that you can still shed bits of you that have died... Yet still be beautiful. I love the sound of my nieces laugh; The way it steadily always brings me back to earth durning chaos , Reminding me to be joyful. I love the ocean. How beautiful is it from the surface ; Knowing no one will ever see all the beauty That lurks beneath the depths. I love seeing peoples faces describing The person they love. Their features change , they Become alive . I love coffee, and my dog, and my tiny feet, and whiskey, and sportscenter, and lime popsicles. I love sleeping in ,and watching Braveheart .  I love love, and i love living . What do you love.
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Nov 15, 2013
Nov 15, 2013 at 6:53 PM UTC
Joyful
The horoscope instructs you when to try, Sportscenter shames Time poorly spent, And a commercial on the tv tells you why You tried to earn more Than covered rent. In fact, you’ve learned that you can sigh From the same logo that aims to prevent A tree growing straight, Still wondering why The kid from Into the Wild preferred a tent. The weatherman told you when to go but Those hills have eyes that Tickle your spine; You can convince your arteries’ juice to flow But some streams run deep, Deeper than a drill could unwind. The schoolboard cannot be stopped In rain. In snow, Knowledge breaks the naked man’s vision. The hardwood floors in an old house Grow, and when those panels crack I hear they glisten.
0
Jan 30, 2013
Jan 30, 2013 at 4:40 AM UTC
Plasticity of Spines
Sometimes you wonder how things can get so ****** up, this happens whenever it's about time for you to come home and I'm watching Sportscenter. Bodies flashing across the screen. Commercials. People cheesing over paper towels so hard they could be having aneurysms. More bodies moving faster than I'll ever move. Just bodies. I loved you so much, I thought about you all the time; just hot with you. now when you unlock the door around 6 in the afternoon and walk in jingling all your annoying jewelry you sniff at me, audibly, as you huff to your room. But I'm watching you like a tiger, out of the periphery; you're just a body to get by and get through.
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Jan 27, 2012
Jan 27, 2012 at 11:44 PM UTC
Thanks for the Cable.
Drunk off my fifth whiskey sour and third shot of cinnamon flavored whiskey after a southern rock concert I dragged my friends to on a school night. Finally home and lying in bed at 4 am. I swear this is the third time I've seen this episode of Sportscenter tonight. I stare with soaked eyes at pictures of you and I'm missing those Japanese pearls of a smile. The ones my grandfather brought home from the war but were stolen when a thief entered my parents home back in 04 the night after the Sox finally won it all. I'm missing the hint of a Torontonian accent I'd catch you say on certain words. I miss the times we never met. And the weekend trips we had planned to meet. I miss the money that I put aside halfway through my trip to Southern California to come see you that's now been spent on ***** and Waffle House. The fact that the cheerleaders from your university came into my work tonight and that Rob Ford is everywhere on TV doesn't help. Now all I do is check and make sure you're alright on the last social media website you haven't blocked me from. And now all I can do is call out of work and turn my TV off. And I only hope that you have found someone that is making you happy. Someone into cooler music with a bigger record collection. Someone who isn't as jealous that you send photos to all the boys. Someone who helps you through all your teenage problems at the age of 23. Someone who accepts you for who and what you are. I can only hope he rearranges his plans and changes for you.
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Mar 31, 2014
Mar 31, 2014 at 4:37 AM UTC
In an Aeroplane Over Toronto
Drunk off my fifth whiskey sour and third shot of cinnamon flavored whiskey after a southern rock concert I dragged my friends to on a school night. Finally home and lying in bed at 4 am. I swear this is the third time I've seen this episode of Sportscenter tonight. I stare with soaked eyes at pictures of you and I'm missing those Japanese pearls of a smile. The ones my grandfather brought home from the war but were stolen when a thief entered my parents home back in 04 the night after the Sox finally won it all. I'm missing the hint of a Torontonian accent I'd catch you say on certain words. I miss the times we never met. And the weekend trips we had planned to meet. I miss the money that I put aside halfway through my trip to Southern California to come see you that's now been spent on ***** and Waffle House. The fact that the cheerleaders from your university came into my work tonight and that Rob Ford is everywhere on TV doesn't help. Now all I do is check and make sure you're alright on the last social media website you haven't blocked me from. And now all I can do is call out of work and turn my TV off. And I only hope that you have found someone that is making you happy. Someone into cooler music with a bigger record collection. Someone who isn't as jealous that you send photos to all the boys. Someone who helps you through all your teenage problems at the age of 23. Someone who accepts you for who and what you are. I can only hope he rearranges his plans and changes for you.
Continue reading...
18
I am asked to write to bare my soul pieces inside me rumble to spread my mind onto dark portions night becomes solace to woken space belonging to addled *** *** sportscenter   cramping my hands on a controller finding reasons for sparing time the question I write to spell out inspiration spend time seeing if I have it within, still i do total capability frustration builds unable to escape dreary town until it is time time to emerge granted wings drag them out and swing them out i WRITE to free reason from its cage and get ***** with insight placing real frustration of boredom to print and send alight blazing inside deep as caves go to Mexican Wells deep into mothers ***** I write expressed in variation and value inside which, unseen turns rusted orange flaking off until pages are written i write because I am asked to I am given an option to and I write to make boredom into a tool of my own design
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Feb 22, 2013
Feb 22, 2013 at 4:39 PM UTC
A reason to write