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"sustainment" poems
“Put pressure on it, it needs more pressure” Holding your wounds shut That senseless force is what took you away Pressure- to be... whilst not desiring to be You saw the clouds moving in greyscale I saw the hills below scattered in shades of green, Cavernous, shadowed, cryptic, familiar- We were advised to go as the crow flies I cried to a nameless God that your crow’s feet Were from insurmountable happiness, not the pressures endured I’ve forgotten much since the storm some-178 weeks ago Though my body remembers yours over and over again My skin has yours imprinted, correlated Forged into one point on the axis between here and there You the X, I the Y The Earth crept between the crevices, curling Through the distance between the Right radius and ulna Elbows breaking knuckles, blood remains to be spilt Blood doesn’t connect, if anything it merely separates Scarecrows don’t help much when the crops won’t grow this year Ants crawled out of the barrel of a shotgun Observing the process of cleaning bones after tragedy Follow the moss to find your way North with no direction- Sometimes on the other side it’s not greener, It’s more terrifying than ever before Terrain untouched, unspoiled, sacred- Climb up the trees with me, find your quiet We won’t carve our names but we’ll find our niche You’ll have quills and I’ll have armor Not even the thought of stolen arrows, Lost time through distance, Or perhaps a slew of chemical imbalances Can reach us up here I chose to glue your pieces back together with mud and straw Taken from the fallen, the loved and now distant memories You may be an abandoned military base offshore What was once used by many- Witnesses life again, life of a different kind The vegetation will ease its way into the cracks Constructed when the foundation began to decay It has a beauty of its own, one of self-sustainment An everlasting beauty that connects itself To the surrounding extravagance, often times ignored, Death isn’t the only way to be forged into nature, remembered Fear doesn’t always win, nor death do us part so soon I hope your skin and bones remember before the end
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Sep 14, 2015
Sep 14, 2015 at 1:34 AM UTC
The Fields Spoke of Futility
“Put pressure on it, it needs more pressure” Holding your wounds shut That senseless force is what took you away Pressure- to be... whilst not desiring to be You saw the clouds moving in greyscale I saw the hills below scattered in shades of green, Cavernous, shadowed, cryptic, familiar- We were advised to go as the crow flies I cried to a nameless God that your crow’s feet Were from insurmountable happiness, not the pressures endured I’ve forgotten much since the storm some-178 weeks ago Though my body remembers yours over and over again My skin has yours imprinted, correlated Forged into one point on the axis between here and there You the X, I the Y The Earth crept between the crevices, curling Through the distance between the Right radius and ulna Elbows breaking knuckles, blood remains to be spilt Blood doesn’t connect, if anything it merely separates Scarecrows don’t help much when the crops won’t grow this year Ants crawled out of the barrel of a shotgun Observing the process of cleaning bones after tragedy Follow the moss to find your way North with no direction- Sometimes on the other side it’s not greener, It’s more terrifying than ever before Terrain untouched, unspoiled, sacred- Climb up the trees with me, find your quiet We won’t carve our names but we’ll find our niche You’ll have quills and I’ll have armor Not even the thought of stolen arrows, Lost time through distance, Or perhaps a slew of chemical imbalances Can reach us up here I chose to glue your pieces back together with mud and straw Taken from the fallen, the loved and now distant memories You may be an abandoned military base offshore What was once used by many- Witnesses life again, life of a different kind The vegetation will ease its way into the cracks Constructed when the foundation began to decay It has a beauty of its own, one of self-sustainment An everlasting beauty that connects itself To the surrounding extravagance, often times ignored, Death isn’t the only way to be forged into nature, remembered Fear doesn’t always win, nor death do us part so soon I hope your skin and bones remember before the end
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I beseech you my brethren of universal extrapolations – can we please engage in open and articulate *********** without apprehensive projections? Connection fails whenever intensity prevails, and genuineness bows the knee to supposed sustainment. Now that we understand that the quest for independence and that freedom is not divorced from pack loyalty; I cross my legs and contemplate yogic restorations of astral attainment whilst sitars command conventionality. So, let us converse in a manner which is soul to soul. Doesn't that just remind you of baked fish and fruit punch?
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Nov 25, 2013
Nov 25, 2013 at 11:32 PM UTC
Defenseless Accord
For fifteen years, I've loved you as "my own"; Denying all that time that you weren't "mine". If you're not "mine", then what? Are you "on loan"? No, no, you are a leaf upon my vine. Mere foliage? No, My Dear, you are so more Ah..Ah, still green—(Oh how I miss my babe...) Yet self-sustainment, oozing from each pore, Serrated wit to match e'en Honest Abe! My God, My Sprout, how deep your roots have stretched, So thin, and with such possibility! Can Life Success and Depth be so far-fetched? Not with your Scope and Life Agility. This Day of Love I wish to say to you, Your Vine is proud, through tears of Love, of You.
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Feb 14, 2012
Feb 14, 2012 at 11:50 PM UTC
A Sonnet From Matthew Morris McCormick on his daughter Ellie's Fifteenth Valentine's Day:
I can't get enough You are becoming the air I breathe The water I drink The food I eat My sustainment But you'll be gone soon I'll suffocate Die of thirst Starve My oblivion.
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Sep 11, 2014
Sep 11, 2014 at 1:32 AM UTC
Dependent
If I gave you the light Would you guard it Hold it tight Would you carry it in the middle of the dark Hold it to continue the spark If I gave you the time Would you waste it Within your mind Meaningless thoughts of the day Wistfully thrown away in the midst of the fray If I gave you devotion Would you leave it For in a vaster ocean For a quotient of a far greater value To bask in the light of another hue If I gave you divine Would you receive it Will you eventually find Actions were purely awkward sustainment In the path of a broken perfectionist attainment If I gave you pride Would you destroy it All worthiness inside Resetting in bottles of placid shame Until remnants of memories can barely be claimed
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Jan 7, 2014
Jan 7, 2014 at 3:27 PM UTC
Better given...
I’ve felt the rhythm of the world, Pulsating from an unknown source, Illuminating every facet of existence. Life and death are Illusions. They are choices that we make, As we drift asleep, In the transitory second, The twilight in between dreams and reality. Preservation is unnaturally natural. Everything will fade, Everything will die, Sustainment is useless, Ignorant of facts, our brains think in Formaldehyde, Doing anything to hold on to gold dust as it slips through our fingers. I’ve been caught in this roundabout for as long as I remember, Assured that the chain would never be broken, Fearing what we can never know, Fearing more what I truly understand. Understanding allows for criticism, People who hate themselves know themselves too well. I’ve become so evasive towards touch; I thought I was made with scissorhands, Sharp blades, unable to satisfy what phantom limbs cannot feel, Now I know that it is okay; I am afraid. And now I understand why.
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Dec 19, 2013
Dec 19, 2013 at 7:41 PM UTC
Afraid
In the Moon's pale light A seductive entanglement Proceeded only by a dream A source of sustainment To a part of my soul To be without her gaze Is to be pieces of a whole Like a candle with no wick I cannot burn at all But I am not changed More a complex design With memories rearranged More calibrated in mind Each night uneventfully passes Controlling more than moments Searching for her feeling in the masses To release me from this torment So little a distance never traveled All stalled by the worry of a knot Waiting for inner emotions to unravel To enjoy the lightening in the bottle caught...
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Jan 27, 2014
Jan 27, 2014 at 11:24 PM UTC
Bottle caught...
How deep does mind go into physicality. Where the fall is domino Generation after generation Breeding wasteful idiots. But I see change in the masses I see change in the minds of those living The core beliefs of most religions, tends to be a purification of thought If you can call it that. If evil doesn't exist It's more like a refinement of thought. What's truly neccessary? And then how does that change things? How many moments Till the future, When you've never heard of time. And what is it but a way to catagorize memories in a clearer fashion an exact fashion. And to plan forward. But was the point of forward thinking when your incapabe of forethought in the first place. One less **** One less binge One less rage One less thing you don't really need for future sustainment. And then you step into the light. More things you actually need, that are actually productive. Why waste time on dead men's luxuries.
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Mar 23, 2018
Mar 23, 2018 at 1:07 AM UTC
Just a rant i guess
A progressive change here has shown even Aphrodite then those arms of treachery unleashed in a throe of ammunition that rely of sustainment in event of assignation when allegiance direly tragic and security boldly traversed as Sophocles quotes tally again.
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Jan 2, 2017
Jan 2, 2017 at 3:42 AM UTC
A Progressive Change