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"tornados" poems
I am not my demons They are made entirely of me. They are the cruelties I've suffered, Presenting themselves like tornados through small towns. Towns that don't seem like much at a passing glance, But who's residents never doubt The beauty and potential it holds If only you stay long enough to notice it. But how can anyone see the beauty in towns That are forever being brought to ruins. At the mercy of something as destructive And unpredictable As a **** tornado?
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Mar 10, 2015
Mar 10, 2015 at 11:15 AM UTC
Tornado Valley
Anorexia is not collar bones. It is the smell rotting of flesh as you dismantle your body bit by bit. Anorexia is not a thigh gap, it is your knees so weak they shake as you fall to the ground. Anorexia is not self control. It is the feeling of utter hopelessness as your life tornados into a blizzard of nothingness. Anorexia is not fashionable. It is your mother’s sobbing eyes as she sees her child dying Anorexia is not 80 pounds. It is the weight of a thousand pulsing suns on your shoulders. A thick black cloud in your mind, and rules spelled out like chains pulling you towards the ground. No matter what measure of gravity that you have in this earth, it still hurts, it’s still real. So to you 'pro anas' who so blindly say 'hunger hurts, but starving works' think before you act. Suffering is an addiction, please do not harm yourself with this affliction. - Emily Ward
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Jun 12, 2014
Jun 12, 2014 at 8:59 AM UTC
Anorexia - For the so called 'pro anas'
You are a tornado. You spin anyone too close to you, leaving them in a dizzy fit. You break them before they break you. No wonder I thought I loved you. A tornado like me. Promising trouble at every turn. You whispered, "I love you". Presenting it with secrecy. Holding me hostage with twisted logic. I am a tornado, I admit it. And two tornados only bring more chaos. I'm self-destructive but, you're too much for me. Your lips were drowned in chloroform. And I kissed you for the burn. The same way I smoke cigarettes to pollute my lungs. We drag each other to hell. Shoot each other's hearts. Naming it love, so we don't have to call it "just *** You were always too much for me. Too much chaos. In return, I was presented with such little love. We wrapped up each other's hearts. Hid them in the shelves. And danced away our summer days in my sheets.
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Sep 24, 2016
Sep 24, 2016 at 12:21 AM UTC
Beautiful Trouble
***I SLAMMED THE DOOR SO HARD, THAT IT COULD HAVE FALLEN OFF IT'S HINGES, THE SAME WAY I COLLAPSE TO MY KNEES SOMETIMES. I SLAMMED IT WITH THE KIND OF FORCE THAT IT  TAKES ME TO LOVE, AND GOD KNOWS I LOVE WITH THE POWER OF EARTHQUAKES AND TORNADOS COMBINED.***
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Dec 11, 2015
Dec 11, 2015 at 3:24 PM UTC
banged disaster
I’m walking up hilltop, two men pass, one says, 'Fuck the French, they never have the bottle for a fight’. To have got here they passed the old Cathedral. Did they glimpse it as a relic - exploded by incendiary, ostracised in dubiety, seen fit to feature only in the focus and snap of foreign tourists? It is two days before Ramadan. Tonight Tornados will tear between the Euphrates and Tigris to illuminate Babylon... live on CNN. At the top of the hill I pause, staring at stained glass fragments still suspended in the apex of frames and view snacking office workers, seated upon the benches that have replaced the pews.
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Mar 31, 2010
Mar 31, 2010 at 12:30 PM UTC
Coventry Cathedral
Don't be scared to sneeze in MATH105 Blow these numbers off the page, so I can finally have an excuse to Blow off some time with you I want to memorize what that sneeze sounds like, unique to the individual Each sound varies upon sneezers voice, allergies, voice box, larynx, even personality If that's all true, I bet even you, sneeze as **** as a mother ****** The only thing that I want more wet and slimey than the inside of your elbow, Is the way we make love "Oh baby, that's it! Sneeze for me! Sneeze harder! Sneezed like you've never sneezed for a man before and then sneeze harder!" Don't EVER hold a sneeze back! You're not only killing brain cells But killing me as well! I want to see what kind of tornados you can throw when a dust storm gets at you What demons are you hiding, not letting Christ expel Don't be ashamed! Are you scared that just you're sneeze Will create tsunami waves of attention If so! I'm buying a front row ticket wearing nothing but arm floaties and a rain coat If you get sick, kiss me with your breathe And well get over this cold- feet together I want to know your sneeze so when we Are cooking dinner, you can be half way through inhale And I'll have a tissue and the words "Bless you" Already trotting outta my mouth I want to be the blessed one To be within hearing distance Be able to bless you back See you come outta your shell for .237 seconds There to catch the science of your anatomy jumping off the cliff of your nose I want to be in the bookstore, Reading super hero graphic novels And hear you in your boredom two floors up at Starbucks, sneeze, And be able to say "YES! THATS MY MAN!!" You hear that one Peter Parker? Try to dodge your spidey-sense around that one! That's a sneeze that'd make the phone booth go inside Clark Kent! We'll have two kids, named Gesundheit and Salud The cat's name will be Ah-Choo Unless you're allergic to cats Then scratch the kids, we'll have A cat zoo! So I can hear the symphony Of your nostrils on the daily If you think this poem is gross Wait tell you see the way I sneeze When I'm thinking of you
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Mar 19, 2014
Mar 19, 2014 at 5:02 PM UTC
for the cute boy who holds back his sneezes
Don't be scared to sneeze in MATH105 Blow these numbers off the page, so I can finally have an excuse to Blow off some time with you I want to memorize what that sneeze sounds like, unique to the individual Each sound varies upon sneezers voice, allergies, voice box, larynx, even personality If that's all true, I bet even you, sneeze as **** as a mother ****** The only thing that I want more wet and slimey than the inside of your elbow, Is the way we make love "Oh baby, that's it! Sneeze for me! Sneeze harder! Sneezed like you've never sneezed for a man before and then sneeze harder!" Don't EVER hold a sneeze back! You're not only killing brain cells But killing me as well! I want to see what kind of tornados you can throw when a dust storm gets at you What demons are you hiding, not letting Christ expel Don't be ashamed! Are you scared that just you're sneeze Will create tsunami waves of attention If so! I'm buying a front row ticket wearing nothing but arm floaties and a rain coat If you get sick, kiss me with your breathe And well get over this cold- feet together I want to know your sneeze so when we Are cooking dinner, you can be half way through inhale And I'll have a tissue and the words "Bless you" Already trotting outta my mouth I want to be the blessed one To be within hearing distance Be able to bless you back See you come outta your shell for .237 seconds There to catch the science of your anatomy jumping off the cliff of your nose I want to be in the bookstore, Reading super hero graphic novels And hear you in your boredom two floors up at Starbucks, sneeze, And be able to say "YES! THATS MY MAN!!" You hear that one Peter Parker? Try to dodge your spidey-sense around that one! That's a sneeze that'd make the phone booth go inside Clark Kent! We'll have two kids, named Gesundheit and Salud The cat's name will be Ah-Choo Unless you're allergic to cats Then scratch the kids, we'll have A cat zoo! So I can hear the symphony Of your nostrils on the daily If you think this poem is gross Wait tell you see the way I sneeze When I'm thinking of you
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57
generous and expanding white's brilliant reflection.. many shaded towers edges enclose with high definition.. sometimes a precursor to unwelcome beauty.. hailstones waterspouts tornados.. we too accumulate faces...
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Jul 13, 2012
Jul 13, 2012 at 12:57 AM UTC
cumulus
I met Virginia in a wave of sleet. On Decatur, a hundred winters ago, with a black iris, black hair in ponytail, with a tongue like a nightcrawling widow, Virginia whispered tornados behind the backs of the grey-suited saxophone players, going blue in the cheeks, under their blackface. Under a flimsy sheet of moon sliver sky and a dim streetlight, Virginia kicked a soda can along the cracking concrete. With each bar we passed, I hollered, "Thank God we're alive!" and danced a shapeless jig. Near Williamson cemetery, Virginia's white knuckles laced into mine. "The amount of time we have cheapens whatever purpose we have," Virginia hissed. I caressed her serpentine neck. A lone car's high beams made Virginia's silhoutte tower above the cemetery gates, made Virginia's black irises madden to poisonous yellow. She loosened my grey necktie. I let down her hair. A sea of collected strands fell like a closing curtain. The distant saxophone ascended to heaven, leaving me below, leaving me below, leaving me to spend the night bellowing for above.
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Oct 15, 2011
Oct 15, 2011 at 4:35 AM UTC
Decatur Street
*"No one's gonna take my soul away I'm living like Jim Morrison... In the land of Gods and Monsters I was an angel"* Lana Del Rey Innocence lost, made her crazy her smile forced, living twisted lies bitter sweet memories, captured in death defying detail waken by the same song bird who only blessed hope in the darkness of a new dawn, singing from the soul, with filtering movements across a chipped wood window ledge enough to keep this young girls heart in place, making her sad even cry, with solitude, mixed with an urgent sense of joy a window ledge looking out to grand oak trees, squirrels playful in flight, shaken autumnal leaves drop whispering stories to the blue **** chaffinch, swallows a lowly stray cat jumps chases leaves that swirl mini tornados, whistling winds chasing his tail a thief of his prey he captures a baby bird of first flight racing off into bushes hiding his feed for the day A cacophony of deafening sounds forces their noise up the narrow stairwell pounding feet; her father he frightens the song bird away, and a silence forms In her nightdress Emily grabs the soft torn eared teddy, lays flat to the dusty wooden floor and hides under the four poster bed silent as a ghost she is filled with the same fear, she faces each and every day. © Sia Jane
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Jan 13, 2014
Jan 13, 2014 at 12:30 PM UTC
Gods & Monsters
"I am the sky Riding the lightening, Cloudy Sometimes peppered with clouds Sometimes tornados Sometimes even hurricanes Skies sometimes are clear" "I'm the ground No earthquake found Let's merge on the horizon When the supermoon rises."
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Feb 8, 2017
Feb 8, 2017 at 9:39 PM UTC
Love Song Dialogue
it begins crisper than november, still, chilly, ice blue sky, then warm, then cold, then crazy frigid, wind cat-yowling, and on the windows, frost feathers that do not melt all day. the solstice sun creeps warily across the south horizon, glancing brilliant off frost-sheathed trees, so cold the very air is frozen-- sparkling ice crystals float rainbow colored like dizziness before my eyes. Christmas eve starts grey and windy-- rain at two and snow at three-- the huge flakes my mom called "horsebirds". And just at sunset, a patch of blue, a sky tunnel for those tiny reindeer. Christmas morning, four together, first time in years we all are here: Best-Beloved, sad eyed lady, maker of donuts and hi-test coffee, sings a bit, weeps, smiles; the Exile returns, hoodied, shy smiling, coffee in hands, and heart full of plans; and Carborundum Starshine bursts in the door, in corduroy & goofy hat, Paul Bunyan beard & glitter cheeks; and i am here. Talk and cookies, hugs and pictures, Merry merry, the peace-pipe passed, carols on the radio, the scents of spruce and tangerines. the "week between" a roller coaster, t-shirts one day, parkas the next, wind that moans like Marley's ghost, and snow tornados on the road. new year's eve and big soft snowflakes, sparkling lights and laughing shouts-- on the street, drunken kisses and auld lang syne-- but not for me, i listen only; there's work tomorrow, quick to bed, a brief flight, all-night jazz and sleep. time tomorrow to begin again. (1-1-14)
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Jan 3, 2014
Jan 3, 2014 at 6:44 PM UTC
december diary
it begins crisper than november, still, chilly, ice blue sky, then warm, then cold, then crazy frigid, wind cat-yowling, and on the windows, frost feathers that do not melt all day. the solstice sun creeps warily across the south horizon, glancing brilliant off frost-sheathed trees, so cold the very air is frozen-- sparkling ice crystals float rainbow colored like dizziness before my eyes. Christmas eve starts grey and windy-- rain at two and snow at three-- the huge flakes my mom called "horsebirds". And just at sunset, a patch of blue, a sky tunnel for those tiny reindeer. Christmas morning, four together, first time in years we all are here: Best-Beloved, sad eyed lady, maker of donuts and hi-test coffee, sings a bit, weeps, smiles; the Exile returns, hoodied, shy smiling, coffee in hands, and heart full of plans; and Carborundum Starshine bursts in the door, in corduroy & goofy hat, Paul Bunyan beard & glitter cheeks; and i am here. Talk and cookies, hugs and pictures, Merry merry, the peace-pipe passed, carols on the radio, the scents of spruce and tangerines. the "week between" a roller coaster, t-shirts one day, parkas the next, wind that moans like Marley's ghost, and snow tornados on the road. new year's eve and big soft snowflakes, sparkling lights and laughing shouts-- on the street, drunken kisses and auld lang syne-- but not for me, i listen only; there's work tomorrow, quick to bed, a brief flight, all-night jazz and sleep. time tomorrow to begin again. (1-1-14)
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47
Two days ago, I saw a girl on street She had purple stains on her cheeks. Bruises and scars on her hands. Her life was surely full of storms and tornados she had survived. Due to her miserable state something sparkled inside her eyes It was hope, a tiny piece of will to fight. She didn't have an armor, she didn't wear a cape, but she surely was a hero because she had faith.
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Dec 23, 2014
Dec 23, 2014 at 4:04 PM UTC
Hero
I Inhaled so many silent forgotten gasps today. They passed over my pulsating skin like jeweled kings in pauper’s clothes. Morning blue sheets sticking like sparkling pool water as I twirled my Georgia love, one Georgia summer. Stuck like the dew of her legs, like the brushing warmth of her breath that once swept me into the blessing of her closeness. This afternoon, talked to a friendly blonde and wondered how her curls would wet from Mediterranean water. Whether her breath would brush or prickle my ambivalent cheek, move my ambivalent heart. Befriended a young musician on the bus ride to the airport, heard in his slight lisp his artistic dreaming, imagined what music compels his eyelids to shut and shield him from the carnivorous spoon-feeding. He seemed to be wondering that, too. Knew I was writing in my head. A flight to home, delayed among fog and a President’s presence. A quiet meal, a chicken sandwich. A golden ale and a sit at the bar to rest my arms on the counter like heavy soldiers, returning home. Listening to the businessman yell at the player who should have scored, won the game. Late at night, arrive home, when nothing beautifully happens. Can you believe? Tornados are sweeping North Georgia. I can only see in my mind empty pool water swirling.
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Mar 27, 2012
Mar 27, 2012 at 8:01 PM UTC
Pauper
Star glass and light.  Emotion engine, dream machine. This is my Lightcycle!  With just thought I can catapult myself across the galaxy!  I remember home and the fields of blue bonnets and Indian paint brushes.  I remember looking up at the stars from Earth.  Wishing to one day see them.  But nothing is more beautiful than that blue star from afar. Earth shines and sings sapphire among the blackness we call space.   But as I enter my solar system I no longer see her.  I quickly thought stream home and find my planet is covered in a sick gray shadowy nebula.   Something is here and is trying to take away all the souls of the Earth!  I try and break through with my Lightcycle!  The star shell fills with my anger and despair!  Reds and tornados made of light dance within my Lightcycle! But to no avail the nebula seems to counter act my will!  I close my eyes as tears flow.  My lightcycle cries colors on the inside.  As I open my eyes I see a cloud within my lightcycle that is made of all colors!  It then clears as I see the harp with light strings the Dragon Secalos gave to me.  This was the dragon I escorted across the galaxy!  The harp then materialized in my hands and I played the melody of the star serpent!  I cannot begin to describe the melody to you.  It was like my dreams were playing for me.  From afar I could see a blue star growing and growing.  Only it was no blue star at all! It was the dragon Secalos!  He was even more massive than before. His wings shined Star Earth blue.  He must of been the size of our moon.  He looked to me with glowing blue eyes!  He spoke to me with his mind.   "  I will help you in thy darkest hour as you helped me."   The dragon then flew toward our sun and completely back in an instant. He then emitted a beam of light that was all colors toward the dark gray nebula.  The dark grey nebula filled with colors and seem to almost dissipate.  The beautiful majestic Earth seem to almost smile back at me. " Thank you serpent of the stars!" " Thank you rider of light. "
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Mar 24, 2016
Mar 24, 2016 at 6:47 PM UTC
:The Lightcycle: !!!! Melody of the star serpent !!!!
Star glass and light.  Emotion engine, dream machine. This is my Lightcycle!  With just thought I can catapult myself across the galaxy!  I remember home and the fields of blue bonnets and Indian paint brushes.  I remember looking up at the stars from Earth.  Wishing to one day see them.  But nothing is more beautiful than that blue star from afar. Earth shines and sings sapphire among the blackness we call space.   But as I enter my solar system I no longer see her.  I quickly thought stream home and find my planet is covered in a sick gray shadowy nebula.   Something is here and is trying to take away all the souls of the Earth!  I try and break through with my Lightcycle!  The star shell fills with my anger and despair!  Reds and tornados made of light dance within my Lightcycle! But to no avail the nebula seems to counter act my will!  I close my eyes as tears flow.  My lightcycle cries colors on the inside.  As I open my eyes I see a cloud within my lightcycle that is made of all colors!  It then clears as I see the harp with light strings the Dragon Secalos gave to me.  This was the dragon I escorted across the galaxy!  The harp then materialized in my hands and I played the melody of the star serpent!  I cannot begin to describe the melody to you.  It was like my dreams were playing for me.  From afar I could see a blue star growing and growing.  Only it was no blue star at all! It was the dragon Secalos!  He was even more massive than before. His wings shined Star Earth blue.  He must of been the size of our moon.  He looked to me with glowing blue eyes!  He spoke to me with his mind.   "  I will help you in thy darkest hour as you helped me."   The dragon then flew toward our sun and completely back in an instant. He then emitted a beam of light that was all colors toward the dark gray nebula.  The dark grey nebula filled with colors and seem to almost dissipate.  The beautiful majestic Earth seem to almost smile back at me. " Thank you serpent of the stars!" " Thank you rider of light. "
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1
The madness of money, exploiting the human mind. Never enough money, never enough time. The disasters of our time, the result of natures resistance. Rebelling against mankind, Mother Nature can be persistent. And while we watch the tide, slowly go and rise, we must remember, it won't be long, till we are all gone. Tornados and hurricanes, wind whipping cyclones. Heat waves and solar storms, disrupting cell phones. Landslides and flooding, from torrential downpours. Forrest fires and blackouts, from ruthless lightening storms. Some may say the sky is broken, some may say the sky is crying. This is natures rebellion, Mother Nature is dying. But our motive right now is money, and nothing will stop our addiction. We will pollute this world till the skies are black, and when we do, there's no turning back. Let the gaping hole in the ozone layer, grow until it's big enough, to burn our Earth down to the core, till we are ashes, nothing more. Mother Nature has sent her warnings, Mother Nature, wish us goodbye. Mother Nature will slowly die, and nothing she does can change our minds... We will destroy ourselves for money, we will commit, without knowing, our own suicide.
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Dec 1, 2012
Dec 1, 2012 at 11:41 PM UTC
Knowingly Committing Unwanted Suicide
Meteorologist had been predicting that Hurricane Harvey would hit the landfall of Texas shore It’s a reality storm no one should ignore Mighty winds and heavy rain hitting the Texas land Warnings upon warnings being active in demand Some people decided to remain in their homes But during the storm no one will be able to roam Now Hurricane Harvey could last for days The two words of the day, “HOME STAY” Hurricane Harvey has winds of 130 miles per hour Now that is along of power Hurricane Harvey is a strong alert It offers no perk Homes are being destroyed The hurricane is treating homes and fixtures as if they were toys This storm is no joy How Great Thou Are comes to mind Rain, Wind and Tornados all combined A message to Texas and the world to kneel and pray This is Heaven ‘s communication being their relay My heart goes out to the citizens of Texas I pray and hope the people survive Trust in God and that is what will keep them alive God’s amaze in what he gives As Hurricane Harvey conquers on My advice to the Texas citizens is to remain strong Stick together in fellowship is what I am talking about Sooner or later Hurricane Harvey will move out.
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Aug 26, 2017
Aug 26, 2017 at 2:51 PM UTC
HURRICANE HARVEY POETRY BLEND
Just words These are just words. A storm in the distance Advancing with rage Escalating in time Take the power away. Just words. High pitch shriek Piercing ears Traveling the connection Between head and heart These are just words Spitting out the mouth Tornados Harmless breathe Butterfly wings flap Lethal turning. Just words Beauty that seems to fly from angry hands Beat the things Only supernaturally touched These are just words Hurled in a corner Knees to chest Just words Raging war Settling scores These are just words Tearing like paper Childhood taken Just words Target set to **** Bullet bursting These are just Words! Rivers flowing Shame imploding Just words. Regret for tomorrow Can't take back what stains These are just words Memories flicker Weight upon the shoulders Just words Empty, lifeless These are just words Nothing that can come to cut the heart To chain the soul. Destroy the life. Just words Repeat, repeat These are just words.......
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Sep 29, 2012
Sep 29, 2012 at 7:46 AM UTC
Lifetime scars
I want to feel known. I want to bring someone home and tell them about how my brother and I used to live in elaborate mansions in the trees. I want to drive them around my home town and tell them of all the places I got heartbroken and all the places I ran to hide and all the places I smiled at the sun believing I could never go blind. I want to tell them of all the friends I've had and how I miss some and am scared of others, to tell them of how theyve grown while helping me grow too. I want to show them the home I grew up in and how I thought it was the best place in the world, surviving tornados, fires, and sadness but we lost it to the lawless. I want to show them my birthmarks and all the constellations and myths my grandmother wrote about the stars on my skin. I want someone to know every curve of the letters in my name. To be able to hear me in my quiet, see me in my dark, hold me in my cold, and love me in my despair.
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Jan 11, 2022
Jan 11, 2022 at 3:09 PM UTC
do you know my name?
may we have some nicer weather please? At least some sunnier days than these! It's been so cold and unbelievably wet, it's horrid enough to get upset. It's a bit like April but in reverse, instead of better it's getting worse. Can't make any plans to go outside for a short walk or bicycle ride. Whenever I get ready to leave the house, heaven looks like I'm in for a douse. Sometimes I go out in spite and realize I'm not watertight. Then I get drenched to the bone, it even destroys my mobile phone. Worse yet after it's been warm, the sky rips open a nasty thunderstorm. That's the part when danger lurks with thunder lightning and the works. Because holding up an umbrella can sometimes torch a poor fella. But wait, before I get into hail, earthly tempests like heavy gale, tornados, hurricanes and the likes. It's definitely not worth it, yikes! Instead of giving myself a permanent frown, I put the kettle on and try piping down.
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Jul 5, 2021
Jul 5, 2021 at 3:27 AM UTC
May, May, May,
A woman’s sin Can cause earthquakes, Mudslides and hurricanes Woman is subservient To these tornados, Tsunamis and storms It’s in her nature For chaos to reign Trying so hard to be good Fighting what’s innate Woman is a ***** A Madonna A crying mother Shifting like a chameleon Woman yearns to be filled Woman clings to despair That unravels like a favorite worn shirt Woman has devil in her genes But is powerless to change Fighting a losing battle Woman needs attention, Unbreakable pact of trust Cause man is not tied nor bound by Monthly bleeding, ovulation Man destroys pain with reason Man’s undivided mind leaves No room for guilt Man is ego in the moment Yearning to stay hungry Man grieves until the moment disappears Loving the anonymous body Lacking the ability to understand the mind Man wants to expose what needs hiding Man treks the land but fears the sound Of acorns falling on a roof Man recognizes there’s more to Eden Than the garden Man seeks to tame nature But regeneration and rebirth rule An only woman can assist this As our toes spread out like tree roots And ghosts sway in the branches We’re reminded by the deer, the fox, the raven- Chaos reigns And nature blooms as it corrupts
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Dec 26, 2011
Dec 26, 2011 at 12:38 AM UTC
Chaos Reigns
Too many Black bodies, Know the unwelcoming Pavement as their home. I can smell the sadness That seeps through their pores.

 Sorrow that furiously Enters my nostrils Like tornados yielding eviction notices. 

 Pupils that beg For eye contact.
 They are empty change cups That fill to the brim Through the locking of retinas. 

 Begging, More for the reminder That they too are human, Than for the change That will provide little of what it boasts. Open caskets With the bodies of suicidal souls. Lifeless faces rearranged To show a glimpse of joy.

 The scene is rich with irony. These dead are smiling. While the barely living Don't have the same luxury of tranquility. 
 Words claw their way outside of mouths, Fighting To reach a listening ear. Suffering Such alienation, From being unaware Of their origin or direction. When the body and mind lose Their living accommodations, Words still yearn For a home. Black bodies litter the streets. And sanitation crews wonder Whether to place the lifeless bodies Into the truck’s trunk, An open casket. I wonder, When was the last time One of their names was Spoken into existence? How difficult is it, To forget who you are?
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Mar 23, 2014
Mar 23, 2014 at 8:00 PM UTC
Black Bodies
her body a sack of tubes open wounds like wet braided mouths muttering thunder tunnels she watching Friday night frights of a cruel image, a man; with sledge hammer genitals looking at her through a shivered mirror desire holds her transfixed like a blink less eye staring at a pinned butterfly her hunger panged tongue locomotes side to side in fidget spirals brewing red lipped bubbles like gagged weeping cuneiform tears imagining an immortal portrait of lusts tribe while downy mists of dancing worms eat scattered apples with love that moves destiny disobediently grinning like a jeering peninsula she imagined a coil of swollen barbs a sea of ***** rapturous arched tongues licking ******** urethra tornados and flooding night music like witches whistle through cat bones
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Feb 3, 2019
Feb 3, 2019 at 3:31 PM UTC
FRIDAY NIGHT FRIGHTS...Manga
*Some people are born with tornados in their lives, 
 but constellations in their eyes. 
 Other people are born with stars at their feet, 
 but their souls are lost at sea.*
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Oct 13, 2015
Oct 13, 2015 at 10:20 PM UTC
and where are you and me