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"stiffer" poems
Just about the size of my thumb Plant so delicate and dumb little by little I see my henna plant grow You don't have tongue to talk You don't have legs to walk little by little I see my henna plant grow The sun makes you sweat And rain makes you wet little by little I see my henna plant grow Up grows your shoot Down grows your root little by little I see my henna plant grow One by one leaves sprout Making you strong and stout little by little I see my henna plant grow In this season of spring Sparrows around you dance and sing little by little I see my henna plant grow At times they pluck your leaves those cute little thieves little by little I see my henna plant grow I give a miserly glance but I don't interfere It is entirely nature's affair. little by little I see my henna plant grow Your tiny existence soothes my eyes I can hear you when others fail hear your voice little by little I see my henna plant grow You are Sharing another plant's flowerpot Don't worry a new *** soon we will allot little by little I see my henna plant grow There you will grow bigger and bigger Your branches will become stiffer and stiffer little by little I see my henna plant grow Within you they will make beautiful nest Sparrows with enthusiasm and zest little by little I see my henna plant grow And when you are big and strong Maybe then I'll be inspired to write another song. little by little I see my henna plant grow. little by little I see my henna plant grow.
0
Nov 13, 2014
Nov 13, 2014 at 9:22 PM UTC
little by little I see my henna plant grow
What I'm imagining isn't considered pretty You don't want to know where you're sitting What I'm imagining isn't considered pleasant We're inappropriately using a pheasant What I'm imagining doesn't go with God And is laughed at because it's odd Into my life they peer Trying to insert fear My owl head on a swivel My rabbit ears perked When people don't act civil And decency is shirked I needed answers For my cancer I find them in love and pain They both seem the same I begin to view the rain As a type of gain Everyone knows love's scorn Which leaves me torn I can't help but feel my situation differs Something about the rejection seems stiffer So I become a shapeshifter To avoid the hate gifters To avoid bearing the shame Of being called names I know other people have it worse Sometimes that feels like a curse I can't gauge the importance of major events In my life I don't know whether to think they're intense Or just right Maybe I'm just being dramatic But these instances aren't sporadic When those that I love Push and shove I start to wonder if I'm broken or stained Until I realize we're all burnt by love's flames We all have a path to travel And they're all made of gravel Our feet become sore Which affects our core We find people below us on the totem pole To know how it feels to treat someone cold For when our enthusiasm for love has faded It's easy to become jaded There are things we're ashamed of That morph us into something unrecognizable In which we should be truly ashamed In the mirror we look the same But our actions are toxic We become radioactive We see where our stock sits And become merely reactive And it's hard to find grace After being punched in the face But one must remember punches come in all forms And we must not punch back to survive the storm
0
Oct 18, 2017
Oct 18, 2017 at 5:42 AM UTC
Toxic
What I'm imagining isn't considered pretty You don't want to know where you're sitting What I'm imagining isn't considered pleasant We're inappropriately using a pheasant What I'm imagining doesn't go with God And is laughed at because it's odd Into my life they peer Trying to insert fear My owl head on a swivel My rabbit ears perked When people don't act civil And decency is shirked I needed answers For my cancer I find them in love and pain They both seem the same I begin to view the rain As a type of gain Everyone knows love's scorn Which leaves me torn I can't help but feel my situation differs Something about the rejection seems stiffer So I become a shapeshifter To avoid the hate gifters To avoid bearing the shame Of being called names I know other people have it worse Sometimes that feels like a curse I can't gauge the importance of major events In my life I don't know whether to think they're intense Or just right Maybe I'm just being dramatic But these instances aren't sporadic When those that I love Push and shove I start to wonder if I'm broken or stained Until I realize we're all burnt by love's flames We all have a path to travel And they're all made of gravel Our feet become sore Which affects our core We find people below us on the totem pole To know how it feels to treat someone cold For when our enthusiasm for love has faded It's easy to become jaded There are things we're ashamed of That morph us into something unrecognizable In which we should be truly ashamed In the mirror we look the same But our actions are toxic We become radioactive We see where our stock sits And become merely reactive And it's hard to find grace After being punched in the face But one must remember punches come in all forms And we must not punch back to survive the storm
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58
My god is love Your god is God I know it sounds odd I wish to be cod That swim through your veins Until I go insane Invading your mind So I may know your kind I have to tip my hat When you say the world is flat And I shift into a stiffer constitution When you say you don't believe in evolution My love is strictly fundamental Our differences infinitesimal I cannot deny This temptation inside This inflation of mine I want to walk with you like Jesus If in that moment you could freeze us I'd believe forever Through any endeavor That two gods were merged And true odds were purged My life would be surged Into perfection By a reception Love is a fabled fraud on the scene Until I find a god in the machine You heretically hide in between Fields of green and wet dreams Your smile takes me there To realize we're no pair So I become Cthulhu In order to fool you When you're the giant squid And I'm just a kid If I want to be caught in your tendrils I'll have to work on my fundamentals I dream of Athena After you make Cupid look stupid While holding a noose With the power of Zeus But I still want more To hammer like Thor Yet after all my plotting I'm still frozen like Skadi When I face a titanic task I wear a panicked mask Obtaining a reluctant martyr's luck When my emotions run hot as **** I face the wrath of god Inside your cattle **** So I wait like the Buddha Wishing I never knew ya
0
Nov 14, 2017
Nov 14, 2017 at 5:09 AM UTC
Gods
Opposites I say love, You say hate, I say curve. you say straight. I say yes, you say no, I say stay, you say go. We agree to disagree, to my heart, you hold the key. We both beg to differ, seeing you makes it stiffer. I say pizza, you say salad, I say rock, you say ballad. I say front, you say back, I say tic, you say tac. I say you, you say me, I say pay, you say free. Sometimes opposites do attract, all depending on the chemistry contact. Nothing will ever tear us apart, we have a title for the last **** I say please, you say beg, I say breast, you say leg. I say *** you say **** I say three-way, you say group. Took forever to find each other, almost gave up on the love buzzer. Our love is so very strong, we both have the favorite song. I say food, you say drink, I say Halestorm, you say Pink. I say metal, you say alternative, I say positive, you say negative. I say blue, you say red, I say single, you say wed. Nobody said love was easy, it can make you sick and queasy. We love each other no matter what, butterflies fill up our empty gut. I say naked, you say clothes, I say fate, you say chose. I say car, you say truck, I say *** you say **** Love comes in mysterious ways, this is real, not a phase. Our love is happily ever after, the key is a nice ***** and some laughter.
0
Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 1:32 PM UTC
Opposites
It was nightfall, I felt very sleepy, And I dozed-off To the stud in my Dreams-Dreams. Oh how strong he was! All muscle unlike my body, Stiffer, stronger & ***** he was! She gave a bath, And a massage too, To the stud in my Dreams-Dreams. She caresses it sweetly, And she kisses it too, Yes, the stud in my Dreams-Dreams. She kissed my stud, A bit too much and, The stud spewed its stomach Out on her face, In my most wild Dreams-Dreams. The girl's eyes were, Teeming with tears, To the stud in my Dreams-Dreams. As she was happy, Tears were of joy, To the stud in my Dreams-Dreams.
0
Apr 2, 2013
Apr 2, 2013 at 1:53 AM UTC
The Stud In My Dream (36-Lined Nelson)
Cords of neck grows tighter as head becomes heavier, standing upfront, facing, pool of black head - class. Those eyes keeps on staring as on naked body, Those mouths keeps on murmuring as a child baby. And yet I didn’t lose to wear a folly smile in gloomy light. Once bluey-green foliage was chirping in cold breeze just like I am shrieking, internally,when I lose my cold chord in middle. Now, tree stand near window, with open brown hand under soggy blue sky. All green gone. Those brown hand become stiffer in cold breeze. Awaiting for autumn to cherry blossom. As I am dying for this period to over, where I stand frozen under black shadow.
0
Jun 24, 2014
Jun 24, 2014 at 5:29 AM UTC
A wish for Magic wand
Clean it up. trash, littered glass glitters smash delivered mouths quiver blood slithers roads killer people stiffer lives teetered eyes tear cars peered windows cleared bodies feared clean it up.
0
Nov 29, 2014
Nov 29, 2014 at 9:54 PM UTC
Make a mess
1966, my first school book review, aged 13. **It's hard, to say the least when you are bashful to give voice to all the words you wish to say for when your restless feet beneath you start to shuffle you know you'd rather take your chance and run away. You have a premonition to be elsewhere to a place they call 'the land of two left feet' where self-confidence is ****** beyond redemption where the introvert is king, and not dead-meat. As the arms of doom draw near to embrace you   and the ground before you cracks and opens wide     tongues of flame curl around to engulf you...     in the scheme of things you're skinned, trussed and fried.      You take a sip of water and start choking as a splash of liquid dribbles down your chin then the teacher offers you a paper tissue and patiently she smiles as you begin. Breaking out into a sweat you feel self-conscious as the collar of your shirt begins to shrink then you twist and tie in knots that paper hanky and wished you'd poured yourself a stiffer drink. Though you fumble for the words, they're not forthcoming as you pour yet one more glass from the carafe and while a tongue that's tied in knots may be amusing in a mouth that's parched you really should not laugh. Amid a mixture of derision and ovation     with that sickly smile still plastered to your face     you waited for the hard word from the teacher     but she said 'sit down' and well done Howard Brace. You prayed that you had never stirred that morning and rolled your sleepy body out of bed... of the precious weeks you failed to spend revising for the Book-Review and the text you barely read. ...   ...   ...**
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Aug 19, 2012
Aug 19, 2012 at 10:13 AM UTC
... Childs Play ...
1966, my first school book review, aged 13. **It's hard, to say the least when you are bashful to give voice to all the words you wish to say for when your restless feet beneath you start to shuffle you know you'd rather take your chance and run away. You have a premonition to be elsewhere to a place they call 'the land of two left feet' where self-confidence is ****** beyond redemption where the introvert is king, and not dead-meat. As the arms of doom draw near to embrace you   and the ground before you cracks and opens wide     tongues of flame curl around to engulf you...     in the scheme of things you're skinned, trussed and fried.      You take a sip of water and start choking as a splash of liquid dribbles down your chin then the teacher offers you a paper tissue and patiently she smiles as you begin. Breaking out into a sweat you feel self-conscious as the collar of your shirt begins to shrink then you twist and tie in knots that paper hanky and wished you'd poured yourself a stiffer drink. Though you fumble for the words, they're not forthcoming as you pour yet one more glass from the carafe and while a tongue that's tied in knots may be amusing in a mouth that's parched you really should not laugh. Amid a mixture of derision and ovation     with that sickly smile still plastered to your face     you waited for the hard word from the teacher     but she said 'sit down' and well done Howard Brace. You prayed that you had never stirred that morning and rolled your sleepy body out of bed... of the precious weeks you failed to spend revising for the Book-Review and the text you barely read. ...   ...   ...**
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34
I want to be the potter and you the clay I want to work you with my hands My fingertips pressing now....against the keys the board stiff under the sensitive pads as I feel you press back against me imagining your lips soft wet tenderly pressing into me. The clay soft and supple under my hands forming you, widening you again and again my muscles working against your stiffer aspects as we spin together wetting, re-wetting and smoothing my hands against your silky slick foundation strong and yet pliable seeking relief from standing strong and unyielding need. You are a deeper container than I anticipated and I, a roaring flood threatening sweep you away. but you hold... steady. What Joy! What Relief! we never expected to contain one another without harm! without fear! Peaceful now our lines flow together the potter the clay the hand and the wheel we come together. I love how we feel.
0
Jul 28, 2019
Jul 28, 2019 at 4:32 AM UTC
Hea(r)t Expansion
Watch out, the stove is hot. White iron teeth that will bite your tongue, split chapped lips, then eat salt and vinegar crisps. Sharp streaks of nerves, grinning with missing incisors drip in lines down your chin of green and brown copper. If I had a fish pond to throw these dimes into, I would never have to know where they came from, why they didn't fall out of my coat with the turned up collar. Unwashed wool wraps and rots round warped shoulders, gnarling strained fingers between ball and socket joints. Fussy tea cakes and strands of hair relinquished to the wind hobble up and down outdoor train stations, old-fashioned floral prints swept aside, a puppet show of sickly chicken legs pocked, potholed and pickpocketed. Lost in the war, between couch cushions, baked into blackberry crumble in go egg whites, out come memories of snow that tightroped power lines, good dogs that stayed, coauthors of the oxford english dictionary. Badly rolled cigarette smoke in the streets writes gregorian poetry for darned socks snagged on shoddy repair jobs, splintered wooden bones. Pour yourself a stiffer drink, it’s going to be a gangrenous winter.
0
May 23, 2013
May 23, 2013 at 2:38 AM UTC
Ghost Limbs
I won't take back the path I took And I can't change the ground it shook To face the earthquake of tough decisions And the natural disaster of life revisions. Nothing takes the earth apart like looking to the past To remember the different kinds of love that wouldn't last. I'd tell you ours was different, but the rubble begs to differ, Each night I rest in the freezing makes my bones grow stiffer. We're a dying race. God is showing us our place. We aren't all we think we are, We won't survive without a scar, But maybe we can climb out of this abyss, If as a species we remember this: We respect the rain, as she falls by design, But neglect the lightning and pretend extinction's fine. We stand in awe as snow falls asleep on the ground, Everything's peaceful until we're frozen like the snow all around. Desensitized to tragedy, Immune to life and gravity, Death becomes the living And apathy keeps giving. Will we step up, get up, and prove the flesh is wrong, Or lay down and stay down, to admit that we're not strong? How could we let hope die in vain, And, without a fight, return to the dust where we belong? Life seems well composed, happy and satisfied, Until we face the wind that blows, and scramble so much to strategize Just to protect the house we've built, That stands so proud until the lilies wilt And prove that all along, there was nothing we could do To keep the hurricane from killing the righteous few. Myself not included, there are honest men, Though we wonder where all our leadership has been. Now's the time to step up and do what's right, Our lives may flood, but we won't drown without a fight. We respect the rain, as she falls by design, But neglect the lightning and pretend extinction's fine. We stand in awe as snow falls asleep on the ground, Everything's peaceful until we're frozen like the snow all around. Desensitized to tragedy, Immune to life and gravity, Death becomes the living And apathy keeps giving. Will we step up, get up, and prove the flesh is wrong, Or lay down and stay down, to admit that we're not strong? How could we let hope die in vain, And, without a fight, return to the dust where we belong? We fight pain and constant pressure until the top explodes, But we won't give up until we've exhausted all the roads, Looking for a way out, preferably the best, But if that fails, we'll make do with any of the rest. It's hard to see with the ash impairing our sight, But even in darkness, through fire, we strive for what is right. The only way to keep the magma from burning through the earth, Is to show the nature around us what righteousness is worth. We respect the rain, as she falls by design, But neglect the lightning and pretend extinction's fine. We stand in awe as snow falls asleep on the ground, Everything's peaceful until we're frozen like the snow all around. Desensitized to tragedy, Immune to life and gravity, Death becomes the living And apathy keeps giving. Will we step up, get up, and prove the flesh is wrong, Or lay down and stay down, to admit that we're not strong? How could we let hope die in vain, And, without a fight, return to the dust where we belong? Maybe nature is the trees and all the flowers Or maybe it's the sum or lack there of of human powers. You decide what you defend and what you think is true, Because it's passion and conviction that truly define you. We respect the rain, as she falls by design, But neglect the lightning and pretend extinction's fine. Death becomes the living And apathy keeps giving. Will we step up, get up, and prove the flesh is wrong, Lay down and stay down, to admit that we're not strong? Or will we, so soon, return to the dust where we belong? --Emily Rutledge
0
May 24, 2015
May 24, 2015 at 2:45 AM UTC
Soul Searching at the End of the Earth
I won't take back the path I took And I can't change the ground it shook To face the earthquake of tough decisions And the natural disaster of life revisions. Nothing takes the earth apart like looking to the past To remember the different kinds of love that wouldn't last. I'd tell you ours was different, but the rubble begs to differ, Each night I rest in the freezing makes my bones grow stiffer. We're a dying race. God is showing us our place. We aren't all we think we are, We won't survive without a scar, But maybe we can climb out of this abyss, If as a species we remember this: We respect the rain, as she falls by design, But neglect the lightning and pretend extinction's fine. We stand in awe as snow falls asleep on the ground, Everything's peaceful until we're frozen like the snow all around. Desensitized to tragedy, Immune to life and gravity, Death becomes the living And apathy keeps giving. Will we step up, get up, and prove the flesh is wrong, Or lay down and stay down, to admit that we're not strong? How could we let hope die in vain, And, without a fight, return to the dust where we belong? Life seems well composed, happy and satisfied, Until we face the wind that blows, and scramble so much to strategize Just to protect the house we've built, That stands so proud until the lilies wilt And prove that all along, there was nothing we could do To keep the hurricane from killing the righteous few. Myself not included, there are honest men, Though we wonder where all our leadership has been. Now's the time to step up and do what's right, Our lives may flood, but we won't drown without a fight. We respect the rain, as she falls by design, But neglect the lightning and pretend extinction's fine. We stand in awe as snow falls asleep on the ground, Everything's peaceful until we're frozen like the snow all around. Desensitized to tragedy, Immune to life and gravity, Death becomes the living And apathy keeps giving. Will we step up, get up, and prove the flesh is wrong, Or lay down and stay down, to admit that we're not strong? How could we let hope die in vain, And, without a fight, return to the dust where we belong? We fight pain and constant pressure until the top explodes, But we won't give up until we've exhausted all the roads, Looking for a way out, preferably the best, But if that fails, we'll make do with any of the rest. It's hard to see with the ash impairing our sight, But even in darkness, through fire, we strive for what is right. The only way to keep the magma from burning through the earth, Is to show the nature around us what righteousness is worth. We respect the rain, as she falls by design, But neglect the lightning and pretend extinction's fine. We stand in awe as snow falls asleep on the ground, Everything's peaceful until we're frozen like the snow all around. Desensitized to tragedy, Immune to life and gravity, Death becomes the living And apathy keeps giving. Will we step up, get up, and prove the flesh is wrong, Or lay down and stay down, to admit that we're not strong? How could we let hope die in vain, And, without a fight, return to the dust where we belong? Maybe nature is the trees and all the flowers Or maybe it's the sum or lack there of of human powers. You decide what you defend and what you think is true, Because it's passion and conviction that truly define you. We respect the rain, as she falls by design, But neglect the lightning and pretend extinction's fine. Death becomes the living And apathy keeps giving. Will we step up, get up, and prove the flesh is wrong, Lay down and stay down, to admit that we're not strong? Or will we, so soon, return to the dust where we belong? --Emily Rutledge
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80
Go to sleep, it’s past midnight. And watch your nightmares come to life. It’s a sick freak show, Heck we should know, Mother get me a knife. This house smells of stale liquor. The poison blood, it runs deeper. Take my hand, It’s so cold, And soon will be colder and stiffer. I watch the bruises bloom and fade. But the shame – it will never change. I’m always at war, Face to the floor, Father, this is what you made. Drag me down and yank me under. It feels like home in a whirl of thunder. Will the sun shine? Will you reach me in time? Or back to misery plunder. Vicious circle, round and round. Get up, slammed down, get up, down. I’ll hide amidst torture, As least it’s familiar, And I promise not to make a sound. I see the needle, the stumble in your step. Eyes roll back, warmth up your neck. We are all insecure, How can you be sure? You’ll die if you overstep. Put me in a blinding daze, I don’t want to feel the pain. Yes, I am running, Coward? Maybe. I tried to burn a flame. I’m not made of china, I don’t easily break. I am purely liquified so don’t make that mistake. I won’t hold together, Unless you cage me in, Come and get me Lucifer, how much more can I take in?
0
Mar 21, 2018
Mar 21, 2018 at 12:20 PM UTC
Circus of Suffering
Can’t catch this hue of you I’m a scathing black in the midnight blues An overcast sky, blanketing blister-paced eyes Hangs right above my neck I’ve brewed restless ache It settles deep in the space Between my lusts and restraints Scared to death either way I’ve let the blood in my skin Sink into bones and teeth Crimson flush under limbs Stiffer than death I’m all I lack
0
Feb 25, 2014
Feb 25, 2014 at 5:34 AM UTC
the little deaths we hide
Shut off the sky if I ask you to- grab my world so brassy boring between its battles and its courage. I’ll arrive with cold hands and you can bring the ghosts. I smell dirt in the day and undo things as I roam. I don’t listen when logic roars, but let it loosen in the sun and sing my prayers through its marrow like I’m blowing glass, like I’m hatching galaxies. June can wait a bit, verses still spin sad where you used your knees on the good nights. I tried the dancing. I tried bleaching the blackened veins and rusting ribs that held me together with a smile brighter and stiffer than ever before. It took a mirror and a shiner to remind me that was pointless. Before was fumes. Before was whiplash. Before was my chattering teeth learning to limber over the back fence then dive into the novels of your hands. Before knew my night skin was something to flee and that all betrayal starts with moonlight, isn’t that right? Before knew that travelers and wanderers were taught to survey treetops and look to their shins, but now I just jump. You said you’d return with a body that wasn’t mine. It’s okay if you lied. I’ve tried to swallow the world between sheets with a thawing mouth and sinking hips. I’ve tried to whittle the scenery down to bad habits and foxes tucked into the hills, Illuminated just when you thought they were gone. I’ve found a geography where our jokes are meaningless, where our hearts are no longer the same, and it is too gorgeous for words. Thank you for allowing it. Thank you for avoiding it.
0
Mar 1, 2016
Mar 1, 2016 at 2:27 PM UTC
land seems to bloom toward me when you don't show up
Shut off the sky if I ask you to- grab my world so brassy boring between its battles and its courage. I’ll arrive with cold hands and you can bring the ghosts. I smell dirt in the day and undo things as I roam. I don’t listen when logic roars, but let it loosen in the sun and sing my prayers through its marrow like I’m blowing glass, like I’m hatching galaxies. June can wait a bit, verses still spin sad where you used your knees on the good nights. I tried the dancing. I tried bleaching the blackened veins and rusting ribs that held me together with a smile brighter and stiffer than ever before. It took a mirror and a shiner to remind me that was pointless. Before was fumes. Before was whiplash. Before was my chattering teeth learning to limber over the back fence then dive into the novels of your hands. Before knew my night skin was something to flee and that all betrayal starts with moonlight, isn’t that right? Before knew that travelers and wanderers were taught to survey treetops and look to their shins, but now I just jump. You said you’d return with a body that wasn’t mine. It’s okay if you lied. I’ve tried to swallow the world between sheets with a thawing mouth and sinking hips. I’ve tried to whittle the scenery down to bad habits and foxes tucked into the hills, Illuminated just when you thought they were gone. I’ve found a geography where our jokes are meaningless, where our hearts are no longer the same, and it is too gorgeous for words. Thank you for allowing it. Thank you for avoiding it.
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45
I live on a small (25 sq. mile) island, accessible only by ferry.                                                   <> “For we are dear to the immortal gods, Living here, in the sea that rolls forever, Distant from other lands and other men” —Homer, the Odyssey (translated by Robert Fitzgerald)                                                       <> *sea air inoculates the slowing breath-taking ferried voyager, our landed cares felled, fall into a wake, trailing, sunk & submerged, a ferry’s ramp contact-clangs, belling a “Here, Here!” alters our mien, the softening airy enveloping, fragrantly, a greeting of immortal gods* *no matter that we can vision-easy the neighboring isles, with their trafficked-light busyness, the to and fro of mainland life, bustle necessity of hustle, our riveted river moat cancels out imposing surround sounds, our untucked flavor, floating free* *wafting perfume of quiet inlet, creek and harbour, touch us safely, alternating currents of gentle breeze, stiffer sailing winds, gusts, bending us, these reminders, we humans too, creatures of elementals, water, sun, forest, sand, animals, singular upon co-hosted menagerie* *the brackish water, where fresh + marine waters mix, live + die, reflecting our pooling diversity, so few of us born here, yet so many, adopt and adapt the isle’s peculiarities, endearing all without any distinction, we blessed together by Immortal Gods to shelter together, by, from, the seas that roll us into one peaceful island, nearly, dearly, and now departed*                                                        <> Shell Beach, Shelter Island August 2021
0
Aug 7, 2021
Aug 7, 2021 at 1:28 PM UTC
To the Immortal Gods:
I live on a small (25 sq. mile) island, accessible only by ferry.                                                   <> “For we are dear to the immortal gods, Living here, in the sea that rolls forever, Distant from other lands and other men” —Homer, the Odyssey (translated by Robert Fitzgerald)                                                       <> *sea air inoculates the slowing breath-taking ferried voyager, our landed cares felled, fall into a wake, trailing, sunk & submerged, a ferry’s ramp contact-clangs, belling a “Here, Here!” alters our mien, the softening airy enveloping, fragrantly, a greeting of immortal gods* *no matter that we can vision-easy the neighboring isles, with their trafficked-light busyness, the to and fro of mainland life, bustle necessity of hustle, our riveted river moat cancels out imposing surround sounds, our untucked flavor, floating free* *wafting perfume of quiet inlet, creek and harbour, touch us safely, alternating currents of gentle breeze, stiffer sailing winds, gusts, bending us, these reminders, we humans too, creatures of elementals, water, sun, forest, sand, animals, singular upon co-hosted menagerie* *the brackish water, where fresh + marine waters mix, live + die, reflecting our pooling diversity, so few of us born here, yet so many, adopt and adapt the isle’s peculiarities, endearing all without any distinction, we blessed together by Immortal Gods to shelter together, by, from, the seas that roll us into one peaceful island, nearly, dearly, and now departed*                                                        <> Shell Beach, Shelter Island August 2021
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29
They carry the body out at 5.37 p.m on a Sunday. Cloaked under shadows of cloth, in the blackness of Death. We lay dead-empty as we watched. They hovered with bleached masks and lay hands, cold, On the still colder flesh, They pressed flesh on flesh, Imagined life in hallowed cheeks, They tried to bring more out of 63 kg of Flesh and bone, spoke to break the seal of death   With remembrance The body rotted below the cloth The body grew stiffer, colder And nothing more
0
Oct 15, 2017
Oct 15, 2017 at 2:27 AM UTC
Funeral
They wondered about my poise, my grace, They looked me in my eyes, told me they could never stand in my place, Grabbed my hands, held me, and told me how much they loved my me, And how my manner is how they wished to be Because their heart ached, But mine too did break. The words they heard me say on stage, Were words I wrote after my rage, And I never even got to bother With the words in my heart for my father Because on paper the tears never came Only numbness did remain. But I could not bring myself to differ From the words that I wrote, I felt my body got stiffer, As I thought about my only feeling My mind began its reeling He was here then he was not, And from that is where my woes are wrought. I never said the words in my heart My world was dim, my soul was dark, Twice, my Lord, I beg of you why I cursed the heavens, I screamed the sky Because my heart could take no more I sank on my knees down to the floor. I’m sorry daddy, I want to say, I let my talent rot away, All my interests are dying or dead Because I couldn’t get out of my head, And I know you wouldn’t want me to live like this But do you know what I miss? I miss the times we gazed at stars And you showed me Venus and showed me Mars, I miss our time spent at the lake Even though every five seconds I took a talking break, I miss the jokes you shared with me I miss the way things used to be. And I’m so sorry daddy that I wasn’t there, And I’m sorry I didn’t lay my soul bare Because I was always too proud to cry As if it would cause my circuits to fry Or maybe because I never got over my brother And then I lost another. And I hope you know I loved you more Than I could ever dare to explore.
0
Nov 17, 2017
Nov 17, 2017 at 1:02 PM UTC
Love You Long Time
They wondered about my poise, my grace, They looked me in my eyes, told me they could never stand in my place, Grabbed my hands, held me, and told me how much they loved my me, And how my manner is how they wished to be Because their heart ached, But mine too did break. The words they heard me say on stage, Were words I wrote after my rage, And I never even got to bother With the words in my heart for my father Because on paper the tears never came Only numbness did remain. But I could not bring myself to differ From the words that I wrote, I felt my body got stiffer, As I thought about my only feeling My mind began its reeling He was here then he was not, And from that is where my woes are wrought. I never said the words in my heart My world was dim, my soul was dark, Twice, my Lord, I beg of you why I cursed the heavens, I screamed the sky Because my heart could take no more I sank on my knees down to the floor. I’m sorry daddy, I want to say, I let my talent rot away, All my interests are dying or dead Because I couldn’t get out of my head, And I know you wouldn’t want me to live like this But do you know what I miss? I miss the times we gazed at stars And you showed me Venus and showed me Mars, I miss our time spent at the lake Even though every five seconds I took a talking break, I miss the jokes you shared with me I miss the way things used to be. And I’m so sorry daddy that I wasn’t there, And I’m sorry I didn’t lay my soul bare Because I was always too proud to cry As if it would cause my circuits to fry Or maybe because I never got over my brother And then I lost another. And I hope you know I loved you more Than I could ever dare to explore.
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***** and Blues are my nights anymore, since ages a figure dared darkened my door. Now memories of shadows, move only to haunt. Lightning cracks across the sky, thunder shakes my soul. The Bass line cranks, Reverbs and Distorts, Echos beyond control Candle light flickers as my drinks get stiffer; another bottle that could not console. The power goes out and I'm left with a doubt, that makes me realize I'm just growing old. Now the Scotch is gone and its getting near dawn. I should really be getting to bed; while the sound of the rain, can drown out all the same; of the things going on in my head. An hour of sleep, only to meet, a dream that wakes in a gasp. But this is a fright that wont win this night, for there's still some left in my flask.
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Jun 17, 2013
Jun 17, 2013 at 6:14 AM UTC
Power Outage
Hey! Special delivery! Raise your I-phone and flash a memory. Smile with flash-drive to hard-drive like it's going out of style. All the while, your patience gets cloudy and drains down your sink. Your lack of effort is for your convenience I think. Your food may be modified. Your mind may be freeze dried. Don't be terrified. Try to be aware of others' ways that differ. Care as you stand stiffer to prepare and stare blankly into the face of a modern affair. Beware, as you know where this is leading. So stop your pleading and fleeting thoughts. Do we really know how to go on though? I guess let's see where we're at in a decade or so.
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Apr 28, 2013
Apr 28, 2013 at 8:58 PM UTC
"Do YOU Give a ****
The seasons have always thrilled me. In a way I can’t explain. How in England, sleet will lash down, But sun will shine in Spain. Now, I know that’s weather I’ve just discussed And I know that climates differ. But I find it odd That the cold can make leaves stiffer. Let’s start with Spring. A time of life, a time of rebirth. You can’t deny it’s beautiful, Watching flowers sprout from the earth. And Summer-time is lovely, With the beach and the sun. I can’t think of a better time To have some outdoor fun. Unfortunately, things come and go And things start to die in Autumn. But you can see the carcass of a tree. It’s just nature in post-mortem. Now, Winter is cold and chilly. And you may get blankets of snow. But the cold doesn’t matter, When you have your own blankets, by a fire with its glow. Each year, there is a cycle, That moves from one month to the next. But wouldn’t it be interesting if it all changed. Like if the seasons had been hexed. What if when Autumn come, The sun came out and drove away the rain. And once Summer came around once more. Sheets of snow gave short and vested people pain. The weather is unpredictable. And should never be taken lightly. And you never know if sun, rain Or by God, thunder, will come day or nightly.
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Apr 13, 2014
Apr 13, 2014 at 5:36 AM UTC
Seasons
The breeze glides smoothly down my lungs Your soft hand engulfs mine Your thumb lazily strokes my bones as if strumming a tune This was my spring My room mirrors the mood as we stumble in It greets us with fogging windows My breath quickens as your love consumes me This was my summer You pull away from me as I only try to comfort Your distant eyes avoid mine at all cost The games we used to play no longer seem fun and carefree This was my autumn Pictures surround me of warmer, happier times When the summer still clung to the earth with pride Pictures at which, however, I refuse to look This was my winter Stiff greetings are met with stiffer coats The scratchy scarf covers the mouth I had kissed And as your deep voice promises to trip me once again This is my moving on
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Aug 6, 2011
Aug 6, 2011 at 8:37 PM UTC
Seasons
Did I just hear that right? Always there for me you say Showing your relentless might Then why forbidden is your tray? Confused? Just grip yourself tight Well, speak the truth if you may Pushed me from that beautiful height There am I buried yet here I lay But didn't you know I'm a knight Grew stiffer in the inferno this clay Dont worry, I have found my light Mendacious were you, so was your bay Hope none collides with your deceitful kite Lacking no love, but for you ill pray Boasting thy selfish sacrifices with pride Bewilderness lies, now in your hay Off the cake of wisdom, take a bite For your actions you will have to pay!
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Oct 25, 2017
Oct 25, 2017 at 12:06 PM UTC
'What do you say?'
Allow me to rant like a vulture with no carrion, I'm carrying a burden that's stiffer than Shinsuke Nakamura revolving around something simple, my job. Now let me start of by saying I like my job, it's simple and pays a decent wage But I'm incensed at myself, it's a never ceasing rage Because it's natural to want out of the nest, but dear old mom's job market is phasing out And I'm caught between her and my own nagging self doubt Because I want to move away, have my own Corner of the earth But every time I want to get serious about this ambition I think of her being physically or financially hurt So I'm stuck in a position that makes no sense Maybe, just maybe that's why I'm incensed
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Jul 15, 2016
Jul 15, 2016 at 12:29 AM UTC
Incensed
Her golden hair, her eyes were wide and her ears were open I'm going to tell you she was a beauty A magnificient vacation from your walls of pressure and hatred A nice getaway in your moments of need But only when you saw that your needs needed to be met. You thought to say hello, and stop by for a while. She was still listening with her ears open, eyes wider, legs apart when she sat, and hair golden as the sun. Only when she wasnt looking you looked for another vacation in an abandoned warehouse where you could easily store away the evidence. Her hair was always in her face, but after you learned the shape of her hand, you painted it along side your hip, as she swayed back and forth she started to see the  smoke in your eyes. Her eyes squinted, her hair was a little bit frizzy, and her body was stiffer. She smelt a different vacation on his back. She started to feel his hand slide down her - she obliged as she turned her cheek to the wall Days turned into storms their little island was beginning to sink She was Circulating, desperately trying to decode him - but she felt the concrete thicken her stance. The mirror yelled at her thighs and she started to cut her plates in half The mirror yelled at her hair so she dyed it in black The mirror yelled at her eyes so she drenched them in black The next morning her nightmere wasnt gone she saw him and he saw her He was confused but she was more so. He looked at her, without a single word pushed her in his car He legs were so  locked together he had to get a wrench to pry them open, her eyes lifeless, her hair fried  with chemicals - with this gaunt, lifeless, hallow expression she felt numb to the bone, but be was in paradise. The prickles were stabs to her, his body was suffocating hers - she was paralyzed. He was controling everything he was shocking her body. "Get off!" "Stop please Stop!" She screamed for mercy and with every gulp,  fear  surged through her body. His paradise was transforming into a tornado - he tried to lock her away in the basement. He put her hands over her mouth "Shhhh keep quiet, just let the storm blow over." She could feel his pulse, aggression was what the smoke was made out of. He contained her Silenced Her And after he broke through, and completed She started to weep, and he fell on top of her. When she woke up, she got out of the car, walked to the ocean She saw a tiny little island Closed her eyes Dove in, and forever there may she stay.
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Nov 9, 2015
Nov 9, 2015 at 1:09 PM UTC
Teenager Tragedy
Her golden hair, her eyes were wide and her ears were open I'm going to tell you she was a beauty A magnificient vacation from your walls of pressure and hatred A nice getaway in your moments of need But only when you saw that your needs needed to be met. You thought to say hello, and stop by for a while. She was still listening with her ears open, eyes wider, legs apart when she sat, and hair golden as the sun. Only when she wasnt looking you looked for another vacation in an abandoned warehouse where you could easily store away the evidence. Her hair was always in her face, but after you learned the shape of her hand, you painted it along side your hip, as she swayed back and forth she started to see the  smoke in your eyes. Her eyes squinted, her hair was a little bit frizzy, and her body was stiffer. She smelt a different vacation on his back. She started to feel his hand slide down her - she obliged as she turned her cheek to the wall Days turned into storms their little island was beginning to sink She was Circulating, desperately trying to decode him - but she felt the concrete thicken her stance. The mirror yelled at her thighs and she started to cut her plates in half The mirror yelled at her hair so she dyed it in black The mirror yelled at her eyes so she drenched them in black The next morning her nightmere wasnt gone she saw him and he saw her He was confused but she was more so. He looked at her, without a single word pushed her in his car He legs were so  locked together he had to get a wrench to pry them open, her eyes lifeless, her hair fried  with chemicals - with this gaunt, lifeless, hallow expression she felt numb to the bone, but be was in paradise. The prickles were stabs to her, his body was suffocating hers - she was paralyzed. He was controling everything he was shocking her body. "Get off!" "Stop please Stop!" She screamed for mercy and with every gulp,  fear  surged through her body. His paradise was transforming into a tornado - he tried to lock her away in the basement. He put her hands over her mouth "Shhhh keep quiet, just let the storm blow over." She could feel his pulse, aggression was what the smoke was made out of. He contained her Silenced Her And after he broke through, and completed She started to weep, and he fell on top of her. When she woke up, she got out of the car, walked to the ocean She saw a tiny little island Closed her eyes Dove in, and forever there may she stay.
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Streetlamps pass by my windowpane As the wheels turn, so does the day I feel the weariness creep onto my brain My eyes watch the sky as it turns gray Back at the tracks I worked myself out Blisters tore into my soles and soul But I know when I reach the end of the route My life will soon again be caught in my control Because I know that my darling will be waiting there And we'll both have a life just for us She's gonna meet me, gonna kiss me from my head to my neck She's gonna see me, gonna greet me with a ***** peck And then we'll come home to our children at the time of the stars Somehow I will get there by trains, planes, or cars No matter how strong the wind may be No matter the deadliness of the sun I'll walk and wait throughout the barren country Just so I can be with my loved one Because I know she'll be standing, looking fair And she'll embrace me at the stop of the bus She's gonna meet me, gonna kiss me from my head to my neck She's gonna see me, gonna greet me with a ***** peck And then we'll come home to our children at the time of the stars Somehow I will get there by trains, planes, or cars The wind is growing colder now It's been hours since I've been indoors My toes are stiffer than I would allow I don't think they'll again touch my home's floors As hunger and sleep dominate my sides I see my sweetie still waiting alone The visions push me and become my guides Because my unfortunate days are agone She's gonna meet me, gonna kiss me from my head to my neck She's gonna see me, gonna greet me with a ***** peck And then we'll come home to our children at the time of the stars Somehow I will get there by trains, planes, or cars
0
May 20, 2017
May 20, 2017 at 9:15 PM UTC
Trains, Planes, or Cars
Streetlamps pass by my windowpane As the wheels turn, so does the day I feel the weariness creep onto my brain My eyes watch the sky as it turns gray Back at the tracks I worked myself out Blisters tore into my soles and soul But I know when I reach the end of the route My life will soon again be caught in my control Because I know that my darling will be waiting there And we'll both have a life just for us She's gonna meet me, gonna kiss me from my head to my neck She's gonna see me, gonna greet me with a ***** peck And then we'll come home to our children at the time of the stars Somehow I will get there by trains, planes, or cars No matter how strong the wind may be No matter the deadliness of the sun I'll walk and wait throughout the barren country Just so I can be with my loved one Because I know she'll be standing, looking fair And she'll embrace me at the stop of the bus She's gonna meet me, gonna kiss me from my head to my neck She's gonna see me, gonna greet me with a ***** peck And then we'll come home to our children at the time of the stars Somehow I will get there by trains, planes, or cars The wind is growing colder now It's been hours since I've been indoors My toes are stiffer than I would allow I don't think they'll again touch my home's floors As hunger and sleep dominate my sides I see my sweetie still waiting alone The visions push me and become my guides Because my unfortunate days are agone She's gonna meet me, gonna kiss me from my head to my neck She's gonna see me, gonna greet me with a ***** peck And then we'll come home to our children at the time of the stars Somehow I will get there by trains, planes, or cars
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