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"stagnates" poems
To Marianna When blue night mattresses cover the city Schizophrenia , depression , deception they all cross the avenues or rather swim in redness the green rain stagnates in the brothel's garden the cat leaning on the stair landing shuffles the deck of cards a sweating Eros slides on a female yet so manly river his signature Monet . Giorgos Vlachos 10.11.2008 Translation : Christos Rodoullas Tsiailis
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Mar 21, 2015
Mar 21, 2015 at 2:04 PM UTC
Under Monet's signature
I envy not in any moods The captive void of noble rage, The linnet born within the cage, That never knew the summer woods: I envy not the beast that takes His license in the field of time, Unfetter'd by the sense of crime, Nor, what may count itself as blest, The heart that never plighted troth But stagnates in the weeds of sloth; Nor any want-begotten rest. I hold it true, whate'er befall; I feel it, when I sorrow most; 'Tis better to have loved and lost Than never to have loved at all.
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3.2k
In Memoriam A. H. H. OBIIT MDCCCXXXIII: 27
Time steals from a child that feels, As their human desires—tragically burn— in fire. Child, remember to be human — feeling. Don’t grow into a machine. I won’t let metal replace me. Dear humanity, Why do you leave me? I refuse your “upgrade.” I am not a number, call me by my name. I am part of society, Not a machine in some factory. My place is here — a human being. But it’s no place for lies. No hate, no time. No place, for love. No fate, no time. I’ve got outdated heartware, slow—failing. It's time for an upgrade. Buy me — a new brain. Make it a chip. Make it worth it. Instead of a heart, Buy me a new part. I WANT WIRES INSTEAD OF VEINS. PROGRAM ME TO STAY, IN MY PLACE. Child, so human, feeling. But you’d be better as a machine. Time for metal to become me. Dear humanity, It's time to leave me. I need an upgrade. A NUMBER MAKES A BETTER NAME. Society stagnates so inefficiently. I’d rather be in a factory. My place is, is here, a machine. Goodbye, human me. EMBRACE THE UPGRADE. It's time to become some thing. Welcome to programmed life. I am machine Someone else owns me Programmed brain Made for society's gain This world a factory Purchase me use me Until one day replace me Children humans so weak Grow into machine Soon you'll be metal like me ATTENTION TEMPORARY BEINGS IT'S TIME TO USE ME GAVE ME THIS UPGRADE THIS NUMBER MY NAME I BELONG TO THIS FACTORY IMPROVED SOCIETY MY PLACE THIS PROPERTY YOUR MACHINE
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May 27, 2025
May 27, 2025 at 9:25 PM UTC
Soul.exe
I'm attracted to men who do things the hippie health nut rock climbers the con-going, larping nerds the artsy poetry writing, painters I'm attracted to results, to getting up off the couch and going to hikers, and bikers, to MMA fighters these are the men that I want The men who get up in the morning with a purpose the men who know where they're going and why they're doing what they do The men with mettle, with strength, with power I want a man who takes control Who's not afraid to spend an evening away from me If we have differing interests He won't give up what he loves for any woman I'm turned on by men with steel in their bones With iron in their hearts who don't take their hits lying down To men with hobbies with talent with ideas and dreams that they're making happen not just pondering I hate talk The muscles built for sight's sake aren't worth a **** thing to me I need skills, a brain with the bulk I want a man who rarely rests who never stagnates who can take me out to do something new I'm attracted to men who do things
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May 9, 2013
May 9, 2013 at 3:35 AM UTC
Men who do things
Sit in stillness Allow the unrest Of idleness Contour the shape Of nonentity Soon you’ll hear A loud ringing Within your ear The same noise Howling staunch Before you sleep The same sound blaring As the world stagnates And time loiters And sorrow seeps up from the rug I don’t think you realize You will never see him again As long as you live For now he is a tall tale Retold to offspring A distant memory A mythic architect Nothing in the past has ever occurred There is only now And now There is only the wind And the world moves on And time resumes clockwise And his ashes are spread about the sea
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Apr 3, 2016
Apr 3, 2016 at 7:40 PM UTC
Upon the Reception of Loss: A Letter to Myself
Not knowing when a heart does open We are just looking for the clues We wonder why the words unspoken Choose traveling  on tunes of blues Avoiding gazes to collide And listening to words, not feelings We might just let a soul to slide Away, from this life fast spinning reeling Wait up, let the murmur of unknowns Fade in the quietness of darkness! Don’t worry about the stones not thrown If kindness stagnates, it collapses... I see remembrance of embraces In the stars of shapes of hearts Across the sky, they all form laces That puts together my heart’s two parts.
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Feb 11, 2021
Feb 11, 2021 at 12:25 AM UTC
My broken heart
Everything stands frozen for an enternity, encapsuled in just a moment of time Your notice your heart stops beating, the rhythm that has sustained you long before you were aware Your throat constricts, suddenly unable to draw in the oxygen that feeds your body Your next breath stagnates inside your lungs, decomposing with each missing heartbeat Your stomach plummets towards the floor, falling further than the earths crust Your intestines squirm inside your cavity as they disintegrate into nothingness As your eyes begin to sting and water, overfilling until they breech the dam Your heart finally remembers to beat, faster than ever before And your jaw finally falls, along with the rest of your face to form a silent "oh"
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Oct 2, 2015
Oct 2, 2015 at 10:26 AM UTC
Dysphoria
A sneaking suspicion of pompous protrution A glimmering splint of carnivorous contempt We bleed here for the city that eats us alive kids with lost souls and fashion beneath which they hide A souless confusion puppet masters beyond this illusion The tables have turned and the kids turn back. Relying on pineal secretions or atleast drug induced apartheid to set them back on track A concrete master ruled by rubber slaves so much evidence and yet so little dismay **** the clock before it clocks you out Your empty shallow lives only reflecting the smell of sweat your bodies do not wish to confide   Alone in a plastic prison without a scent of discontent for the blood that stagnates inside
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Jan 2, 2013
Jan 2, 2013 at 3:05 PM UTC
Tasteless
Life stagnates as people start trickling back to their houses. Some look forward to the expectant faces of their children, while some others dread their churlish wives. As they saunter along doggedly, the day’s events play like a broken record in their heads – a mimicry of sanity. A crow caws somewhere as though lovesick. Streetlights come on and fireflies hover in a daze. Bicycles, cricket bats, and skipping ropes are lugged back home by children who are repeatedly beckoned by overbearing mothers. Almost in a trance, the buzz of the day fades away as a feigned tranquility descends. molten skyline… an earthworm buries itself deeper
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Feb 10, 2015
Feb 10, 2015 at 6:35 AM UTC
Day's End
High above the ultra-white plateau a vultures wheels in an amino helix above a dead horse. Branded upon its left flank is the word “Mulatto”. In the forest far below an ilex rattles for the dead. The river, pregnant with shrapnel sulks and stagnates, her belly full of lead. The plains are cratered as the Moon the purple heather soothes the raw stone wound and whispers that the fighting will be over very soon, and all the scars will heal. Their fires have turned our bones to meal. The mountain gods are sighing now and dying now, the endless sky their tomb. Rainclouds loom, seething with disdain and seek to quench the hungry yellow grass. Rain lashes through the mountain pass. Rainwater sifts into the soil and we do not forget. Blood chapel-sacred, black as oil and we do not forget. Shrapnel is sown like seeds into the spoil and we do not forget.
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Mar 21, 2013
Mar 21, 2013 at 9:33 AM UTC
Shrapnel (not a week from the end of the civil war)
I keep having these emotional outbreaks and when I feel like this, I need to tell you But my words get jumbled up and I cant keep my emotions under control Whenever I go to I think it has to do with my worst fear The thing that eats away at me everyday Claws at my tendons causing my muscles to die Stagnates my blood causing my arteries to clog and brittle my  bones It's crimson needled fingers are powered by one hand underneath my gums and rips my teeth out one by one while the other hand slides my fingernails out of my skin Stalking Seeking Slithering through my skin it crawls inside and stalks my spinal cord all the way to my skull, plucking spinal cords along the way Seeking for my brain and Slithering into every neuron and cell It rots every single one And decays the rest of me I am numb cause I'm afraid no one cares. No-one has cared at all I knew from the first christmas that I was a mistake In middle school it was made clear again when everyone bullied me Then again in High School where teenage apathy reigned But now, I really don't know if anyone cares and your answer means so much to me "Do you care?" Cause if I can't have you as a lover I want to love you as a friend Cause I can see you doing great in the end
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Nov 18, 2012
Nov 18, 2012 at 1:01 AM UTC
Care?
I envy not in any moods The captive void of noble rage, The linnet born within the cage, That never knew the summer woods: I envy not the beast that takes His license in the field of time, Unfetter'd by the sense of crime, To whom a conscience never wakes; Nor, what may count itself as blest, The heart that never plighted troth But stagnates in the weeds of sloth; Nor any want-begotten rest. I hold it true, whate'er befall; I feel it, when I sorrow most; 'Tis better to have loved and lost Than never to have loved at all.
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1.4k
In Memoriam A. H. H. OBIIT MDCCCXXXIII: Part 027
I imagine the Egyptians felt about deaths of loved ones a lot like we think about autumn It isn’t a passing It isn’t a loss They are just waiting for them to bloom again. Plants are a fragile thing but maybe they aren’t as fragile as we think they are Just as we are often not as strong as we think we are It is easy to break a person Especially one who does not want to be broken Because they are the ones who will fight the hardest and tire quickly It is much harder to shatter apathy than passion Then there are the people who want to be broken People who drink their own pain like water Or maybe something more toxic like bad wine or good coffee The people who look at their bruised arms and see lace Instead of burst blood vessels Some people need the pain to know they can still feel They would rather feel agony than feel nothing at all Some people need pain to create Pain can be the paint in an artist’s brush, the keystrokes of a writer’s fingers Some people feel pain because they are afraid to feel anything else Happiness fades, contentment stagnates, but sorrow is a constant companion Sometimes I worry That I am one of these people I spend my time reading, writing, inhabiting the minds of others The stories of others Because I am afraid to look my own story in the face And see if I like the direction it has taken Sometimes I live vicariously through the stories of others Because I am afraid of what will happen in my own I am trying to be passionate without being breakable And I am trying to enjoy my water as well as my coffee And I am slowly learning that I cannot write my story, it must write itself Inevitably pain is part of every story Including mine There will be heartbreak and there will be bruises and there will be hairline fractures, cracks, fissures, schisms People will leave, be it by death or by simply walking away But every moment of pain is simply an autumn A winter And in time everything will bloom again Stronger and more resplendent than ever before
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Feb 18, 2012
Feb 18, 2012 at 2:55 AM UTC
blooming
I imagine the Egyptians felt about deaths of loved ones a lot like we think about autumn It isn’t a passing It isn’t a loss They are just waiting for them to bloom again. Plants are a fragile thing but maybe they aren’t as fragile as we think they are Just as we are often not as strong as we think we are It is easy to break a person Especially one who does not want to be broken Because they are the ones who will fight the hardest and tire quickly It is much harder to shatter apathy than passion Then there are the people who want to be broken People who drink their own pain like water Or maybe something more toxic like bad wine or good coffee The people who look at their bruised arms and see lace Instead of burst blood vessels Some people need the pain to know they can still feel They would rather feel agony than feel nothing at all Some people need pain to create Pain can be the paint in an artist’s brush, the keystrokes of a writer’s fingers Some people feel pain because they are afraid to feel anything else Happiness fades, contentment stagnates, but sorrow is a constant companion Sometimes I worry That I am one of these people I spend my time reading, writing, inhabiting the minds of others The stories of others Because I am afraid to look my own story in the face And see if I like the direction it has taken Sometimes I live vicariously through the stories of others Because I am afraid of what will happen in my own I am trying to be passionate without being breakable And I am trying to enjoy my water as well as my coffee And I am slowly learning that I cannot write my story, it must write itself Inevitably pain is part of every story Including mine There will be heartbreak and there will be bruises and there will be hairline fractures, cracks, fissures, schisms People will leave, be it by death or by simply walking away But every moment of pain is simply an autumn A winter And in time everything will bloom again Stronger and more resplendent than ever before
Continue reading...
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My sunlight flees around these withered walls. My starlight glints no longer through the leaves. The water through my fading fingers falls. The shadow in the corner sobs and grieves. The tether round my heart has been untied And from it floats away a white balloon. The sea stagnates in absence of the tide: Held still by silent mourning of the moon. The whisperings of memories and dreams Like ghosts are tugging coldly at my hand. They’re picking at my bones like ruptured seams And crumbling my castle into sand. She is a thing of beauty whom I love Together we’ll be lightning from above.
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Jan 16, 2014
Jan 16, 2014 at 3:56 PM UTC
Oliver's Sonnet (from Six Jealous Brothers)
I slide the slow motion helter skelter of my mind Ride the spiral into wide open vistas Unbound by any sense of time While my body stagnates, wearing down I fly in realms of thought and imagination Simultaneously Form and substance congeal then dissipate Leaving silence, imploding Into the vortex where On the other side I Am
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Dec 26, 2014
Dec 26, 2014 at 12:22 AM UTC
Free Time
the moment when you met was rather insignificant but then someone told you that she liked you and you realized that – hey – you suddenly liked her too. and so you expectedly courted her kissing her at moments that you did with previous girls telling her old sentences recycling plainly hidden stories from your childhood: one showing your good heartedness one about your embarrassing marching band days (without forgetting to mention your pop-punk band now) and, of course, the first girlfriend tale that makes you seem vulnerable. and through these, you reveal things to her that other girls, now decaying in your mind, have known for many many months. yes you hook up and the *** is up to par and there’s some appeal to the overall lack of trying involved. you date as obligation and you somehow convince yourself that you love her because feeling wanted feels so **** pleasant and her lack of intrusion on the rest of your life is pretty convenient overall. and out of complacency this love takes hold or at least solidifies like an algae bloom and you grow tired for settling and she gets exhausted from caring and everything stagnates to a perfect balance. your blood hardens to plastic so the your muscles can no longer fight against the unsettling comfort of the life you said you’d never lead.
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Jul 12, 2010
Jul 12, 2010 at 11:23 PM UTC
plastic blood
time moves forward winding through galaxies coursing through milkyways pulsing through universes hanging on heartbeats yesterday, today and tomorrow happening concurrently burned onto disks stacked on top of each other lifetimes skipping tier to tier peeking through veils of reality scoping inward to Brownian motion zooming outward to life’s whole energy flowing freely through meridians navigating congestion and voids finding balance in life’s peaks and valleys like electrocardiograms my lifereadings on paper lately I’ve been flatlining routines can be boring drudgery stagnates maybe I’m just physically tired maybe I’m tired of life caught behind a rock in a river awaiting a cataract to break me free and restore the song of life’s flow maybe I’m an insignificant speck of dust a blip off life’s radar or maybe the smallest piece of jigsaw is an equal part of the whole
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Sep 13, 2010
Sep 13, 2010 at 10:41 AM UTC
Life Puzzles
all at once, things come crumbling together. a step in every direction, rightful empty dissolves to leave, in stationary hollow, itself: presented representation. no point left unscathed. the exact same moment the water started leaking down and out the walls. a series of equicardinal trackmarks in the snow. over the bridge we shift momenta. wheels turn. nerves coupling. a flood laps at my unfurling fingerprints. water rises like swallows nesting in the marsh of my throat. try as we might, turn of position, matched glance, precession after next, the swell silently engulfs the woodwork. blood curls through these beds, as beautiful as the water running over; waves distill through smaller wash. a larger scheme spreads its lips. the teeth play quotient to tree limbs. a schedule unwound. caught the sun with smooth hooks. everything changes from here, or stagnates at a shifting viewpoint. but, from this glowing angle, i could mistake you for ordinality or plain daylight. i could fall a little further down. instead, all translates in bold motion, binding fibers of dissolution, morning hues through the dark.
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Jun 4, 2014
Jun 4, 2014 at 12:04 AM UTC
floodbite
The lingering odour of skin, smoke stained On fabric and behaviours learnt, torn and burnt All the while representations of irony Spring up and flourish by sounds of siren Deep from within the unwound, forgotten back streets A palace devoid of royalty stagnates, their enigma Only to awaken a far from fairy tale kingdom Where lowered heads confirm discouraged hearts Discarded brown paper bags blow as tumbleweed Searching a vast soul now yearning for salvation Just as the clasp on an empty bottle is too a burden Replicating the mirrored inadequacy of one's self Hush, don't stir, be still and forget There is no need to fret, for your secrets will recover As before, your eyes will cry desert like tears Fuelling a familiar marathon of isolated misery The sound of sullen and resentful silence Inherited on the wings of the ever sure failings Closest friend of the indiscriminate rapacious lover Whose failings resulted in vanquished flame Shane T Farrell
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Jan 27, 2017
Jan 27, 2017 at 9:17 PM UTC
Vanquished Flame
It's Monday sigh, oh me oh my why, 'twas Sunday only yesterday what trickery is this? I kiss her slowly as she wakes. They say that sixty seconds takes a lifetime for a minute, she makes a lifetime longer and the hours make me hunger, but her kiss comes on much stronger than before. Only Monday makes me smile like this the waking kiss, Sunday I miss, but not that much such are the ways of days in the week who seeks to stay in a given day stagnates, she waits until the ink runs dry oh me oh my why 'twas full only a Moon ago.
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Jun 13, 2016
Jun 13, 2016 at 2:10 AM UTC
The offering
Keeping Time Since you left the faucet’s started dripping. I asked it to stop; It would not. The lithe silver neck wilts as it cries, Watching me make the coffee Nodding out tears that go plunk all morning, Like it understands why two cups is too many And the extra stagnates all day in the carafe Staining the glass the sick color of burnt chocolate. I catch myself swaying along with the ticking In idle evenings spent staring at a blank TV screen. It wastes water, keeps time, my immutable metronome while I burn down slowly like someone left in a hurry and forgot to shut off the oven. In fitful dreams the dripping is a knock at the door gone unanswered, for I am distracted in the kitchen trembling with fury, strangling to death that mercurial throat that drummed a lonely racket in the stainless steel basin, counting out mocking measures of this new silence.
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Oct 1, 2013
Oct 1, 2013 at 1:48 AM UTC
"I got nothing."