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"tripled" poems
I thought Van Gogh had it figured out he fell in love and cut off his ear he died july 29 1890 from a self inflicted gun shot wound He painted He painted the sky He painted men women bedrooms flowers shoes street corners chairs boats and fields I thought Basquiat had it figured out ****** NYC He painted memories in the present August 12 1988 NYC apartment ****** overdose I thought Picasso I thought Warhol I thought Stalin ****** Buddha Had it figured out but sand fills our shoes in dry texan sun and the dog howls howls for its mother howls for its brother howls for its sister I thought the dog had it figured out eating insects smelling my hands eating the ham on the floor I thought Hemingway had it figured out Late at night reading Old Man and The Sea Suicide July 2 1961 12-gauge English shotgun I thought Fitzgerald had it figured out I thought Ginsberg I thought Kerouac did too drinking across the neck and back bone and gutter lips of America and back I thought Bukowski had it figured out the cigarettes the wine the women the type writer the sad nights accompanied by cockroaches and a city that is indigestible I thought Phillip Glass had it figured out Beethoven going Def Mozart lost in his grave writing symphonies for Death and his cruel tripled eyed angels I thought The drunkards were lost The Junkies were ankle-less The Mothers were done for The Fathers had given in The Young True The Elderly gazing  through the bifocals of heaven and hell The Prisoners cemented in Time I thought the Dead were the ones who published our Dreams I thought the painter had it figured out So I painted I thought the pianist had it figured out So I played the Piano and listened to the bilingual codes of the keys I thought the Ballet dancer had it figured out So I watched her I studied the movements and the bruised toes looking for a design of an answer I thought the Poet had it figured out So I wrote a poem and I saw the world.
0
Apr 4, 2013
Apr 4, 2013 at 12:13 AM UTC
Synecdoche
I thought Van Gogh had it figured out he fell in love and cut off his ear he died july 29 1890 from a self inflicted gun shot wound He painted He painted the sky He painted men women bedrooms flowers shoes street corners chairs boats and fields I thought Basquiat had it figured out ****** NYC He painted memories in the present August 12 1988 NYC apartment ****** overdose I thought Picasso I thought Warhol I thought Stalin ****** Buddha Had it figured out but sand fills our shoes in dry texan sun and the dog howls howls for its mother howls for its brother howls for its sister I thought the dog had it figured out eating insects smelling my hands eating the ham on the floor I thought Hemingway had it figured out Late at night reading Old Man and The Sea Suicide July 2 1961 12-gauge English shotgun I thought Fitzgerald had it figured out I thought Ginsberg I thought Kerouac did too drinking across the neck and back bone and gutter lips of America and back I thought Bukowski had it figured out the cigarettes the wine the women the type writer the sad nights accompanied by cockroaches and a city that is indigestible I thought Phillip Glass had it figured out Beethoven going Def Mozart lost in his grave writing symphonies for Death and his cruel tripled eyed angels I thought The drunkards were lost The Junkies were ankle-less The Mothers were done for The Fathers had given in The Young True The Elderly gazing  through the bifocals of heaven and hell The Prisoners cemented in Time I thought the Dead were the ones who published our Dreams I thought the painter had it figured out So I painted I thought the pianist had it figured out So I played the Piano and listened to the bilingual codes of the keys I thought the Ballet dancer had it figured out So I watched her I studied the movements and the bruised toes looking for a design of an answer I thought the Poet had it figured out So I wrote a poem and I saw the world.
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77
My skin has been itching for three months I’m not sure why this is addicting I’ve crashed a car in my head 3 times today My mental awareness consistently letting go of the wheel The Anterior teeth of my mouth have started to yellow in disapproval I’m not sure why this is satisfying I’ve been taking toxic psychotropics in light doses more than twice a day It’s warmth is comforting as the jittering and hyperactivity become null Bags have formed under my eyes If you were to open them, their roasted smell would overpower you with stimulation Constantly on my toes for risk of Insomnia and Narcolepsy I’m not sure why this is outstanding Adrenaline is being forcefully factored into my body If this is the bullet, I’m biting it after an appliance pulls the trigger As the high passes, it ripples through my mind An otherwise calm sea, tidal waves pound the shores of my subconsciousness Vacuum sealed can are filled with awareness Sleep has become a rare odyssey Warm comforters are replaced with long trachea trips of boiling beans I’m not sure why this is alarming Double trips become tripled and troubling to my mother Arguments over the hours I shall harvest from the night are increasingly frequent Slow to roll out of bed in the morning I don’t hit my carpet, I splash into sugared preparedness In my backpack hides a cup full of GI Joes I’m not sure why this is troubling If anything, I’m drinking a medicine that prevents death by 10-15% for 13 years The New England Journal of Medicine was happy to acknowledge my existence Till they announce anything different, you’ll find me taking a mud bath I’m not sure why this is disgusting Tell me everything that’s wrong with it Because from where I’m standing There is nothing wrong with Coffee
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Nov 19, 2012
Nov 19, 2012 at 11:58 AM UTC
Beans
My skin has been itching for three months I’m not sure why this is addicting I’ve crashed a car in my head 3 times today My mental awareness consistently letting go of the wheel The Anterior teeth of my mouth have started to yellow in disapproval I’m not sure why this is satisfying I’ve been taking toxic psychotropics in light doses more than twice a day It’s warmth is comforting as the jittering and hyperactivity become null Bags have formed under my eyes If you were to open them, their roasted smell would overpower you with stimulation Constantly on my toes for risk of Insomnia and Narcolepsy I’m not sure why this is outstanding Adrenaline is being forcefully factored into my body If this is the bullet, I’m biting it after an appliance pulls the trigger As the high passes, it ripples through my mind An otherwise calm sea, tidal waves pound the shores of my subconsciousness Vacuum sealed can are filled with awareness Sleep has become a rare odyssey Warm comforters are replaced with long trachea trips of boiling beans I’m not sure why this is alarming Double trips become tripled and troubling to my mother Arguments over the hours I shall harvest from the night are increasingly frequent Slow to roll out of bed in the morning I don’t hit my carpet, I splash into sugared preparedness In my backpack hides a cup full of GI Joes I’m not sure why this is troubling If anything, I’m drinking a medicine that prevents death by 10-15% for 13 years The New England Journal of Medicine was happy to acknowledge my existence Till they announce anything different, you’ll find me taking a mud bath I’m not sure why this is disgusting Tell me everything that’s wrong with it Because from where I’m standing There is nothing wrong with Coffee
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34
There is a blue stain from my pajamas blotched upon the white wall from where you pushed me up against. From when your hips gridded against my thighs, a graph with linear equations that doubled and doubled and tripled. From when your fingers found the furrows inside my skin, planting seeds I am eager yet scared to see blossom. There is a blue stain from my pajamas specked upon the wall, from when our hunger was too ravenous for even the wolves I tried to suppress. From the sweat I licked off and tasted sweeter than gumdrops coated with honey. From when my legs found your waist, squeezing, Medua’s hair demolishing a man too good, too tasty. From where your palms collided with my wrists, blacks and blues and yellows shooting through closely knit pores. There is a blue stain from my pajamas splattered upon the wall, and I pass it with a smirk, feeling the presence of you. What will be our next victim, I wonder
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Nov 25, 2013
Nov 25, 2013 at 12:28 PM UTC
graphing theory
Paper unfolded is by far the most beautiful possibility Before it is folded Twisted, refolded, untwisted Doubled, tripled, bent and unbent To be beaten into a form A claustrophobic form.
0
Jan 14, 2013
Jan 14, 2013 at 9:12 PM UTC
Origami
I can feel the world, stripping itself apart, the soft paper mache of it's sanity, being pulled apart to show, the truth of this harsh world, _ the generation before us, tells us how easy we have it, you, you didn't have wars, hanging over your head, like dead weight, you didn't have, the tripled problems, why, why, did you leave this for me? _ All I feel is horror, a constant horror, of what we can do, of what we are capable of, _ history is repeating itself, over and over, we repeat, the exact same mistakes, no one sees, at least, no one who has power, they are too preoccupied, with the petty worlds that they, occupy, _
0
May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 10:33 AM UTC
Ramblings (Reality)
365 Three simple numbers, a lot of meaning. 365 the number of freckles scattered over your body 365 the amount of times you told me you loved me in one day 365 the last 3 didgits of your cell number 365 the amount of times I watched your chest rise and fall until I fell asleep 365 the total ammount of days since you left 365 May no longer be the amount of freckles you have, she may have found one I missed 365 the amount of times you've said you loved her, it may have multiplied or tripled 365 no longer your last three digits, believe me I've checked 365 days of living without you 365 has tore me down and brought me to hell and back 365 no longer stands for the total number of days in a year 365 stands for how may days my heart has broken and how may times you've said goodbye
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May 19, 2015
May 19, 2015 at 7:31 PM UTC
365
I sit in my cage and wait for you to open the door I've hidden away so long, that you don't even know who I am anymore. But I see your face and it conquers all the rest.. I wish I could have realized that, for me, you were my best But I've changed so much since the day we met And when you said you loved me, I didn't think it was true How could you love someone you barely even knew? Since you've been gone, I locked my heart away But now I'm gonna expose every inch of it So I cant stop hiding and so the pain will go away: I love to write poetry I find comfort when I'm in the dark I used to cut myself And I believe every person is a work of art I've tried to commit suicide I never had a lot of true friends I'm terrified of gorillas And I'd really love to see the oceans I have tripled the amount of people you said you had slept with At least four of them are people you know When you met me I was ****** So you can imagine that I didn't take things slow I hung out with the "wicked witch" of your group And she introduced me to something that helped me not feel so low And as I was up for days, hiking and praying to find love Pupils dilated, lying to the ones I loved I kept think of you, and why I wasn't your one I stopped taking my pills, Which were for Bipolar Disorder, not my thyroid I didn't tell you the truth because I thought it made me sound crazy I made out with your best friend.. But at the time I didn't know his ex was pregnant with two babies I slept with your dealer I dropped out of college I'd rather have love than knowledge Hard to make possible, when I'm addicted to *** I crave human touch Especially from the one person whose love I will never get. I understand if you hate me I hate me too But I also love myself for finally telling you the truth I'm afraid to grow up Afraid of being alone I'm afraid you wont show up And that I'll forever be in this cage that's called Home. But I've been sober for more than two weeks I'm rebuilding myself I have to take the initiative and take care of my health I miss you like crazy.. And when I see you on Facebook I think back to that day when you told me you loved and then I walked away.. I know that we'll probably never be together And I guess that's okay I just hope that you'll be able to forgive me someday.
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Apr 8, 2014
Apr 8, 2014 at 6:31 PM UTC
Beneath The Tip Of The Iceberg
I sit in my cage and wait for you to open the door I've hidden away so long, that you don't even know who I am anymore. But I see your face and it conquers all the rest.. I wish I could have realized that, for me, you were my best But I've changed so much since the day we met And when you said you loved me, I didn't think it was true How could you love someone you barely even knew? Since you've been gone, I locked my heart away But now I'm gonna expose every inch of it So I cant stop hiding and so the pain will go away: I love to write poetry I find comfort when I'm in the dark I used to cut myself And I believe every person is a work of art I've tried to commit suicide I never had a lot of true friends I'm terrified of gorillas And I'd really love to see the oceans I have tripled the amount of people you said you had slept with At least four of them are people you know When you met me I was ****** So you can imagine that I didn't take things slow I hung out with the "wicked witch" of your group And she introduced me to something that helped me not feel so low And as I was up for days, hiking and praying to find love Pupils dilated, lying to the ones I loved I kept think of you, and why I wasn't your one I stopped taking my pills, Which were for Bipolar Disorder, not my thyroid I didn't tell you the truth because I thought it made me sound crazy I made out with your best friend.. But at the time I didn't know his ex was pregnant with two babies I slept with your dealer I dropped out of college I'd rather have love than knowledge Hard to make possible, when I'm addicted to *** I crave human touch Especially from the one person whose love I will never get. I understand if you hate me I hate me too But I also love myself for finally telling you the truth I'm afraid to grow up Afraid of being alone I'm afraid you wont show up And that I'll forever be in this cage that's called Home. But I've been sober for more than two weeks I'm rebuilding myself I have to take the initiative and take care of my health I miss you like crazy.. And when I see you on Facebook I think back to that day when you told me you loved and then I walked away.. I know that we'll probably never be together And I guess that's okay I just hope that you'll be able to forgive me someday.
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54
The children would be packed and ready days in advance. At first, we packed for them, but as the years passed, They were experts at rolling clothes for twice the space, Using laundry baskets rather than luggage tripled our carriage. We'd leave early Saturday morning, almost night, Departing from the Ontario weather like a bad odour. Kathleen was away at school. Mags and Andrea were in their teens now. Ten years of March madness was terminating. Herself would sit shotgun with Triptik and thermos. The kids would awaken south of the Ohio, Hungry, grumpy, and eager. She had it all planned out. Crosswords, colouring, wordfinds, books, Gameboys, lace, Sandwiches, juice boxes, treats of all sorts, For another twenty hours on the road. I invariably imagined our Mini in the return lane As we crossed the Bluewater Bridge into Michigan; Trip over, kids exhausted, us, quiet, subdued, Just wanting our own bed. But twenty hours on the I-75 lay ahead, Turn left at Knoxville For Myrtle Beach, sun, tennis, seafood, Separation. I found no peace in our final escape. Conversation with her had halted. A round-trip of dialogue in my head. She'd said, I bought a house. Words wrapped like an egg-salad sandwich. It was our March break.
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Mar 10, 2017
Mar 10, 2017 at 10:38 AM UTC
March Break
As I lay here and gaze out at the moon light Imagery of day dreams and flashing stories **** the ticking of time and useless frights. In my dreams I am the warrior with his magical sword. I'm the captain of the "enterprise" or the traveler to distant worlds. I sense the other creative hearts as I start to drift to sleep. Floating from my body My soul takes flight. I am only bond by limitations, upon myself, in which I set. Flying with the other "astral travers" in "projection" I feel less and less bound... To hopelessness and worries. I left that behind at the start of my journey. In dream and soul travels I am profound.. An energy tripled as I catch up with other astral travelers Who are not afraid to let their souls lose to travel. New lands to explore. To see, feel, and experience. Even without a seat on a jet, a green card, or what we bond ourselves down with what "reality" is never true logic..... But an old and useless line drawn by a picked fence. Until my soul returns in morning To my body when it awakens..... The spirit and dreams are sometimes more than what we can explain..... For newest of inventions are descoverrd and written in history's books.... Due to daring souls who allowed themselves freedom in astral plains.... Never needing to grab their coats from a hook... Edison, Socrates, devinvci, and the like.... Are still living spirits to open eyes that look past what is and is not supposed to be..... For like me, we live forever.... Free spirits..... Not just in our dreams..... But, as we build or write to life our inventions... Because reality was a closed eye.... The free spirits of the astral traveler and creative inventor Could do such bright miracles.... As they left an open eye in which, for all this wonder, it sees.
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Nov 13, 2016
Nov 13, 2016 at 6:36 AM UTC
An open eye
As I lay here and gaze out at the moon light Imagery of day dreams and flashing stories **** the ticking of time and useless frights. In my dreams I am the warrior with his magical sword. I'm the captain of the "enterprise" or the traveler to distant worlds. I sense the other creative hearts as I start to drift to sleep. Floating from my body My soul takes flight. I am only bond by limitations, upon myself, in which I set. Flying with the other "astral travers" in "projection" I feel less and less bound... To hopelessness and worries. I left that behind at the start of my journey. In dream and soul travels I am profound.. An energy tripled as I catch up with other astral travelers Who are not afraid to let their souls lose to travel. New lands to explore. To see, feel, and experience. Even without a seat on a jet, a green card, or what we bond ourselves down with what "reality" is never true logic..... But an old and useless line drawn by a picked fence. Until my soul returns in morning To my body when it awakens..... The spirit and dreams are sometimes more than what we can explain..... For newest of inventions are descoverrd and written in history's books.... Due to daring souls who allowed themselves freedom in astral plains.... Never needing to grab their coats from a hook... Edison, Socrates, devinvci, and the like.... Are still living spirits to open eyes that look past what is and is not supposed to be..... For like me, we live forever.... Free spirits..... Not just in our dreams..... But, as we build or write to life our inventions... Because reality was a closed eye.... The free spirits of the astral traveler and creative inventor Could do such bright miracles.... As they left an open eye in which, for all this wonder, it sees.
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33
feet glued to concrete limbs shaking wildly pulse has tripled i cannot move terror surrounds jaws locked anguish cries out i am surrounded the perfect storm anger swirls menacingly doubt trembles in fear loathe strikes electric i cannot focus my eyes have blurred was that a smile or a bullet? i am lost narcotic-induced incapacitation nebulous days followed only by tenebrous nights with evil thoughts i am the afflicted a victim my emblem exposed naked, they see me for the child i am their tears have dried up just empty words remain i am alone now stranded with shaky hands and too many orange bottles the words will not come they, too, have left me so i sit and i cry but nobody hears nobody cares my salty tears slip down my cheeks and sizzle away into nothing how fitting
0
Jul 11, 2012
Jul 11, 2012 at 4:27 PM UTC
paralyzed
There will be a many reasons why, he is really suited to be a good leader to his views on church reform, poverty, climate change and divorce that had shaken up the world opinion. A leader who is an influencer to other people like just Pope Francis that he want a real leader does not shy away from crisis and debate, but embraces them as part of finding a solution. As a follower of Pope Francis, I really admire his characteristics that he is reaching out to non-customers or non Catholic. That is why Francis makes sure to reach out to non-Catholics as well, for instance by declaring that God has redeemed all of us, not just Catholics. He embraces the risk he did like when he was young, he became very ill, and the nun who tended him disobeyed the doctor's instructions and tripled his dose of antibiotics, because she knew from experience that without that higher dose he would die. We can't be an effective leader if you're always playing it safe. Last is to listen in diverse voices. He is listening to his cardinals all over the world they consult with him to help him make decisions. He wants to get other people's opinions that he can gather ideas about their own experience. That is why I choose the Pope Francis a good leader for me because I am a religious person and a follower to our dear Pope. To help all the people in need of guidance of God and a world needs leaders who are just compassionate and merciful.
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Apr 15, 2019
Apr 15, 2019 at 10:05 PM UTC
Why it makes Pope Francis a good leader?
To partake of a strange feast where the price claims haughty too, bits of sanity or decline. Courage must be the face to the lion in a pool of fear and recognize the unacceptable. The scorpion waits, a grumpy nip the heel going round, sprain in soft sand dessication tripled, slip in butter. The search via crumbs to secret root underlining hefty conditions undermining liberty.
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Nov 14, 2014
Nov 14, 2014 at 5:39 PM UTC
unacceptable
When you have no money nobody wants to know, Being made redundant, my morale is feeling low. Waiting on the government to process my claim, Can't pay my bills, I'm panicking, but I am not to blame. Creditors chasing me, letters piling up behind the door, powerless to do a thing, but this I can't ignore. Loosing the will slowly, my head hurts from all the pleading, my children and my dog they will soon need feeding. No support available, this walk I must do alone, crying myself to sleep, I could have been prepared if I had known. My world has suddenly collapsed, the domino effect has begun, rippling through my cash flow, this summer isn't feeling fun. The days are feeling empty, to broke to go anywhere, trying to scrape together copper so I can treat my children to the fair. Relentless job searches, I'm tearing at my hair, when you are left without a penny and there's no one around to care. Holding my head in my hands, trying to keep things together, depressed and down I hope this isn't forever. Fighting off the feelings, trying not to take it to heart, hurt that I worked so hard, from the very start. I was always there, worked overtime for free, helped out when things were bad, stupid, silly me. Its ok for the big boys, their wage it tripled mine, They may be in the same boat, but they will just be fine. Pacing the walls I'm slowly slipping into madness, Clinging onto hope, getting lost deep inside the sadness. A temporary glitch, I'm hoping I will be able to recover, its times like this we need help from one another. Scared, more terrified but what's worse is I feel alone, trying hard to keep upbeat, trying to remain in good tone.   My children too young to understand, and my dog just looks at me funny. Not realising the world is dominated by that paper stuff called money. My thoughts are racing vividly, trying to capture an idea, paralysed by the sudden shock along with intense fear. My world has collided, my heart begins to fade, All of this could have been prevented, If only I'd been paid.
0
Aug 9, 2015
Aug 9, 2015 at 5:54 AM UTC
Redundancy
When you have no money nobody wants to know, Being made redundant, my morale is feeling low. Waiting on the government to process my claim, Can't pay my bills, I'm panicking, but I am not to blame. Creditors chasing me, letters piling up behind the door, powerless to do a thing, but this I can't ignore. Loosing the will slowly, my head hurts from all the pleading, my children and my dog they will soon need feeding. No support available, this walk I must do alone, crying myself to sleep, I could have been prepared if I had known. My world has suddenly collapsed, the domino effect has begun, rippling through my cash flow, this summer isn't feeling fun. The days are feeling empty, to broke to go anywhere, trying to scrape together copper so I can treat my children to the fair. Relentless job searches, I'm tearing at my hair, when you are left without a penny and there's no one around to care. Holding my head in my hands, trying to keep things together, depressed and down I hope this isn't forever. Fighting off the feelings, trying not to take it to heart, hurt that I worked so hard, from the very start. I was always there, worked overtime for free, helped out when things were bad, stupid, silly me. Its ok for the big boys, their wage it tripled mine, They may be in the same boat, but they will just be fine. Pacing the walls I'm slowly slipping into madness, Clinging onto hope, getting lost deep inside the sadness. A temporary glitch, I'm hoping I will be able to recover, its times like this we need help from one another. Scared, more terrified but what's worse is I feel alone, trying hard to keep upbeat, trying to remain in good tone.   My children too young to understand, and my dog just looks at me funny. Not realising the world is dominated by that paper stuff called money. My thoughts are racing vividly, trying to capture an idea, paralysed by the sudden shock along with intense fear. My world has collided, my heart begins to fade, All of this could have been prevented, If only I'd been paid.
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23
i try to remember who's hand first touched my innocent skin not my doctor or my mothers hand the touch that on one end innocent and the other intimate i try to remember who was first somedays i can't stand the weight of clothes on my body feels like soft hands with ill intentions with a motive i can't stand covering up the invisible bruising if anyone would listen id yell can you see them? can you see the hands? they rest upon me when im alone the hands doubled and tripled as my innocence swept away i still don't now who's hands were first who's hands have bruised me in places blind to everyone but me
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Apr 22, 2021
Apr 22, 2021 at 11:42 AM UTC
remembrance
it took a year and five months without you as mine to make me realize that i broke your heart. and i am so sorry. when we've tried to be friends in the time apart, and you told me you didn't want to come see me because you were afraid your heart would still bleed for me, and mine wouldn't for you, i should've known. but it took until now, when you said you still update the playlist you made me called "hers" and i saw that i took your love and squeezed it juices dripping over my fingertips and i realized that even though i had gone numb when we ended our little romance novel, you hadn't. how was i so blind? how did i miss that you were missing me? and now i feel my heart beat backwards, i feel everything i felt in the three years i knew you come hurtling back to me my stomach is heavy with you again. but the miles between us are tripled now, and i don't believe in going back, and i can't believe that i hurt you in that order. but i miss you, miss you and i can't help but feel regret weigh me down --- i wrote this days ago and i didn't have the courage to make my thoughts public to admit a little bit of my heart still bursts with love for you. and my pregnant pause has reared its ugly head, because now i know that someone else loves you too she is beautiful and kind and everything everything you deserve that i could not give back to you and she is right there, something i could never be for you, not for more than two days at a time and here's what hurts: i only ever wanted your happiness but now i watch from my phone as someone else kisses you and laughs with you and thinks of you and i hate that you are happy with the life we deserved and i broke your heart and she has fixed it and nothing in my world is fair but this this is the worst of it all my first love, my most tender bruise. being absentmindedly pressed by another
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Nov 20, 2017
Nov 20, 2017 at 1:39 AM UTC
this time, i broke his heart
it took a year and five months without you as mine to make me realize that i broke your heart. and i am so sorry. when we've tried to be friends in the time apart, and you told me you didn't want to come see me because you were afraid your heart would still bleed for me, and mine wouldn't for you, i should've known. but it took until now, when you said you still update the playlist you made me called "hers" and i saw that i took your love and squeezed it juices dripping over my fingertips and i realized that even though i had gone numb when we ended our little romance novel, you hadn't. how was i so blind? how did i miss that you were missing me? and now i feel my heart beat backwards, i feel everything i felt in the three years i knew you come hurtling back to me my stomach is heavy with you again. but the miles between us are tripled now, and i don't believe in going back, and i can't believe that i hurt you in that order. but i miss you, miss you and i can't help but feel regret weigh me down --- i wrote this days ago and i didn't have the courage to make my thoughts public to admit a little bit of my heart still bursts with love for you. and my pregnant pause has reared its ugly head, because now i know that someone else loves you too she is beautiful and kind and everything everything you deserve that i could not give back to you and she is right there, something i could never be for you, not for more than two days at a time and here's what hurts: i only ever wanted your happiness but now i watch from my phone as someone else kisses you and laughs with you and thinks of you and i hate that you are happy with the life we deserved and i broke your heart and she has fixed it and nothing in my world is fair but this this is the worst of it all my first love, my most tender bruise. being absentmindedly pressed by another
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43
1 Grisham John my artist friend is a sensitive chap so a year after my wife dies he gets me a date 2 Turns out at the restaurant the woman walks up to me like she were a floating jelly - her left eye flying, her right eye sinking her arms wild like horses and her nose tripled; each finger like a bullet and she looks in all directions all at once 3 I call Grisham John on his cellphone and I roar: You paired me up with a hideous woman! Relax! he intones *You either hate 'em or love 'em - that's how it is with a Picasso*
0
Sep 9, 2014
Sep 9, 2014 at 9:09 AM UTC
Grisham John arranges a date for me
We are moved by the lives of others We are affected by things that aren't happening to us We feel emotions we didn't conjure Our pain is doubled, tripled & intensified Through the constant stream of E m p a t h y S y m p a t h y Agony But without it there is no love And without love what a b o r i n g u n f o r g i v i n g world we'd exist in Drifting lazily~ through our own self pitty Realizing only the wetness of the rain And not giving a care to the life it creates Yellow roses And tall willow trees *You are the rain in my heart You fall with fear from your sky I catch you gently on my tongue You give life to my existence* **I need you to grow You need me to matter**
0
Jul 30, 2013
Jul 30, 2013 at 9:11 AM UTC
Yellow Roses
is it too much of an onomatopoeic dissonance that this is synonymous to    regret dubbed as slouched nirvana. Across the bonfire, there’s volition    as glare, light as judgment. Why they call her Luningning, I know not.       Take excess for jaunts and flesh, and pay no heed to illusions. The mirage   on the wall is but fire-dance on the bitten lip of true company.                     heady static pierces pinecone. Soon the moon will sink like **** to **** Or felled star as tripled glaze of salted lip. Or the ****** of the butterfly.      Are we here to metamorphose these tiny susurrations into a commune?                      Dank and stale as piss-laced pavement, the whole world now     spires in uneven strobes. The last song on the karaoke as memory. The knead       of temperamental air on the scalp. Take pork rind for bread, intemperance     as tribute. The night dons its silken robe and shows her pair: two moony eyes                piercing the noise.
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Mar 3, 2016
Mar 3, 2016 at 12:54 AM UTC
Luningning
You gossiped around And you put him down Since he wasn’t as rough Was in no way as tough As other guys were acting You continued the trashing. Bullying is always in fashion. Alawys some wimp needs mashing. His clothes were impeccable. You found that despicable. He kept himself neat and clean You did with that something mean. He was good at sport games You reviled him just the same. He got high grades in classes Still you all acted like ***** He won awards, your taunts tripled, It couldn’t be worse if he was crippled. We can see now his incipient fame; You never let up with the ugly names. An A student, who never did wrong You let bullies lead you along, Another poor schmo for you to dismember; What do you suppose he will remember? Will you suddenly call him friend When school and the torture ends? Will you go see his lectures and shows? Isn’t that the way it always goes? Suddenly the bullies are good guys? And you think nobody ever catches wise? Go on and hope that is how it goes. He’s an elegant guy. So, who knows?
0
Apr 3, 2018
Apr 3, 2018 at 3:13 PM UTC
AN ELEGANT GUY
If only my eyes never tickled when it saw you,                                                                               If only my heart beat never tripled when it sensed you, If only my body never shivered just to feel you,                                                                                    If only my hands never quivered just to touch you, If only my nose never itched from the scent of you,                                                                                              If only my soul never hungered just for you... If only you were single, I'll tingle and mingle only with you,                                                                                          We'll soar the skies far above the eagles... If only... *If only..... you knew its only you                                                                                                     Only You...*
0
Jan 15, 2014
Jan 15, 2014 at 9:27 AM UTC
"If only... You"
i pray that today you will read my words and concern i will write happy, i will mostly write sad we both know there is a dark spot in my mind surrounded by the light you have created but you are the reason for my happy words and the inspiration for my sad because you are that contrast - i pray that tomorrow you will read my words and smile i will write happy, i will write sad we both know there is a dark spot in my mind surrounded by the light you have created but you are the reason for my happy words and the inspiration for my sad because you are that contrast - i pray that next month you will read my words and be proud i will write happy, i will write sad we both know there is a dark spot in my mind shrinking into the light you have created but you are still the reason for my happy words and the inspiration for my sad because you are that contrast - i pray that in a couple years you will read my words and reminisce i will write happy, i will write sad we both know there was a dark spot in my mind emerged by the light you created you are the reason for my happy words and still the inspiration for my sad because you are that contrast - i pray that in the future you will still read my words what would i write, what would i write? we both know there was once a dark spot in my mind unsure if that has endured tripled in size or simply non-existent perished by the light you have created or the light you have substituted for dullness will you be the reason for my happy words? if any remain? or have you truly inspired my sad because you went from black and white to simply black - i pray that you would not continue to read my words... ...out of pity i would write sad, i would write sad we both know my mind would be dark pitch black a lack of light i would have run out of happy words because there would be nothing but sad filling the empty holes you have dug with your absence everything is black
0
Aug 9, 2015
Aug 9, 2015 at 2:14 AM UTC
how do i even title this
i pray that today you will read my words and concern i will write happy, i will mostly write sad we both know there is a dark spot in my mind surrounded by the light you have created but you are the reason for my happy words and the inspiration for my sad because you are that contrast - i pray that tomorrow you will read my words and smile i will write happy, i will write sad we both know there is a dark spot in my mind surrounded by the light you have created but you are the reason for my happy words and the inspiration for my sad because you are that contrast - i pray that next month you will read my words and be proud i will write happy, i will write sad we both know there is a dark spot in my mind shrinking into the light you have created but you are still the reason for my happy words and the inspiration for my sad because you are that contrast - i pray that in a couple years you will read my words and reminisce i will write happy, i will write sad we both know there was a dark spot in my mind emerged by the light you created you are the reason for my happy words and still the inspiration for my sad because you are that contrast - i pray that in the future you will still read my words what would i write, what would i write? we both know there was once a dark spot in my mind unsure if that has endured tripled in size or simply non-existent perished by the light you have created or the light you have substituted for dullness will you be the reason for my happy words? if any remain? or have you truly inspired my sad because you went from black and white to simply black - i pray that you would not continue to read my words... ...out of pity i would write sad, i would write sad we both know my mind would be dark pitch black a lack of light i would have run out of happy words because there would be nothing but sad filling the empty holes you have dug with your absence everything is black
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62
Seven times seven to the seventh power Will tell you how much I love you this hour. If you tripled the stars and a few more could borrow It would give an idea how I'll love you tomorro *****
0
Mar 20, 2017
Mar 20, 2017 at 1:45 AM UTC
7
i am composed of rotten pomegranates a rich stench of sweetness emanates from my pores loose-limbed, i am glistening, in my prime, about to free fall into my own undoing, like a flower slick with nectar just waiting for the bees to swarm reaching towards the sun and, in vain, turning towards you instead and i'm crumbling into desecration, my honeyed blood churning tripled suns I swear my body is illuminated I swear that i smell of flowers and i know that i have reached the point of no return so tear me, your slender fingers severing me from everything everything i'm rooted in, tear me away from the dark musk of earth and fill your senses with my loosened aroma as i fall away from grace crumble into fire and turn away from the sun one last time
0
Apr 29, 2022
Apr 29, 2022 at 12:08 PM UTC
hopeless
The tips of my lips curve toward the stars but the words on the tip of my tongue and too heavy to bend upwards So that's where they remain at the end of a thought but never floating to your ear because I can't let you hear the things I've been holding, saving for a time that I realize now will never come. Because they were heavy before but now the dust they've collected has nearly tripled their weight and though they try to break away toward the sun it is a futile to try to break through years of bottling up. There are things that will never be said some things are impossible to understand with or without words and we must let them be.
0
Sep 11, 2013
Sep 11, 2013 at 12:16 AM UTC
Heavy