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"undesirably" poems
Once upon a time in the Great Hall of the Metropolitan Museum, my woman wan~pale, doozy, woozy, about to grace the floor marble, with an undesirably inelegant fall. Steadied her, a quick diagnose, Low Blood Sugar + Dehydration, her condition I pronounced. The antidote in my possession! From my pocket left, withdrew my emergency tangerine. She looked, quizzically, upon me, even a bit weirdly, marveling and marvelous, as I fed her bite-sized orange curvatures. *Who walks around with a tangerine in their coat pocket?* I replied, doesn't everyone? besides, that juicy tangerine looked mighty good, so I took from pocket right, another one, laughingly, which we shared. Henceforth she has called me, a partial mocking homage to a former actor, who should have stayed that way, the one who was thinking you can always start over, The Anticipator. If you ask me what is the secret to keeping love alive, my answer permanent. Get thee a coat of many pockets, like the one Joseph had, fill them up with with the things that will shelter her from the storm...^ No longer the season of the tangerine, In my pocket in the fall, a Fuji apple and a box of raisin~poems
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Oct 27, 2013
Oct 27, 2013 at 2:54 AM UTC
True Story#4: The Anticipator
im am now undesirably  happy I was once desirably unhappy but with sadness came comfort self pity became my favorite sweater and now overzealous joy is the cardigan  I thought I would never wear in the back of my closet, where I wish it would have stayed change came in every season winter was now spring how I longed for the snow underneath my sorrow was ability ability to understand now understanding slowly slipped from my finger tips so do not gaze at me with a confused and disapproving glare while you sip from your every morning coffee containing precisely three sugars and two creams
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Oct 31, 2015
Oct 31, 2015 at 12:46 PM UTC
routine sadness
i speak to the night and she always speaks back lending me whispers and words to rend my weaving thoughts in that moment between dreaming and sleep; the one that lasts a life age near the precipice, the one that undesirably breaks you free ever so slightly and then suddenly (maybe) rips you away from the world that melds the real and unreal the true and the false the dream and those harsh undreamt realities that exist in all times, but never seem real when you’re free of their clutches. we are one, we are all connected our synapses are linked, our electrons shared, our every thought a memory, shooting through space like lightning and written in the stars on our darkest of days
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Jan 17, 2014
Jan 17, 2014 at 9:43 AM UTC
look up, look up //
a ghostly truck wanders street to street ringing the silent bell in your head with no dream no sense of wonder but a feeling the alarm goes off no recollection of the mystical truck but a feeling no receipt no notice but a feeling the day goes on you holding the package you undesirably wanted no way of returning the sun falls while the soft moon yawns its' way to play the bed soft the eyes close a ghostly truck wanders street to street...
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Dec 5, 2011
Dec 5, 2011 at 8:44 PM UTC
Distribution of feelings
In a fourth grader's bed there are rats eating at her mattress stuffing, Stealing for her own young. They nip at her toes while she finishes her math homework. She always is hungry Because at night the vermon crawl down windpipe to steal mother's cooking. Mother is forced to throw away the mattress like a forgotten sock, But fourth grader still wakes up sick from churning bile In an empty stomach, Because Mother was just fired from gas station #12. Fourth grader has forgotten the feeling of warm toes, comfortable back, and being undesirably full.
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Jan 9, 2016
Jan 9, 2016 at 8:21 PM UTC
Mattress Rats
To see another sky, another river, I wanted to be as free as you always say that I am. When just yesterday, a letter stole my speech, a whisp of the person I was moments before-- one full of promise and expectation. I was now a passenger whose flight was delayed. A woman undesirably caught between hometown comfort, and hometown purgatory in which I couldn’t locate Hope, until you, and a faint voice within, whispered that dreams grow with a gust, strengthened by adversity. Of course, the wind still disheveled my hair, and stripped away at walls that I built up, tactfully, for rejection. But this too will disappear, with a greater gust, bellowing high above me, like A robust cloud of thickening smoke. Anna Blake The Golden Shovel Reference “I Try” By the Staves “I am a whisp of a woman, caught in a gust of wind, I disappear like smoke.”
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Mar 27, 2017
Mar 27, 2017 at 12:00 PM UTC
Timing
Stuck in a time after me, and I haven't even been there yet. A cloudy future seed turning into a net. Could that girl be me? - after all of the tears and sweat.. To fall or be caught, but never to surrender. I hide to be sought - undesirably tender. The clock is ticking but I'm still here. Never a 20th century gem; Never a tad more bruised; Never a broken limb; Just a young girl; Just a 1990 time traveler - stuck in space. She leaves alone without a trace. Coming back broken-like, being somewhere unbelonged; maybe she is chosen-like: She'll dance in the psych of it all, like it's just some kind of song.
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Apr 26, 2013
Apr 26, 2013 at 1:08 AM UTC
1990 Time Traveler
fiery hot flames ascending up my body undesirably until they reach my face and burning; they give me away
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Jun 5, 2014
Jun 5, 2014 at 2:03 AM UTC
blush
I am living with Nobody. I talk to him, I eat dinner with him, I share thoughts with him, I sleep with him. But tonight was different, I slept with Pillows. The undesirably lonesome feeling, That haunted me since then. It stayed with me in agony, Mourning for consort. I slept with tears drying, And my beloved Pillows, All drenched. I am filmy glad, To be in love with Nobody.
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Apr 16, 2015
Apr 16, 2015 at 9:53 AM UTC
With Nobody
What is this mania of over the top self-absorption that appears to be running amok, this social dementia annoying egotism, where it seems everyone is constantly posing and publicly auditioning for attention. Cellphones and Social media two of the abetting culprits, deluding the populace that constant selfies a star does make. Get a blog, be a celebrity, go on TV? Self-promotion and crass Exhibitionism has become a vexing preoccupation. Striving for LIKES and Followers sending and Trending, seeking the adulations of strangers out in the cloud that they will never actually meet. What happened to modesty, or self-restraint? Have we all lost our minds? When did being an average normal well-adjusted human become not enough. When did humility become undesirably passe? Are we all truly that insecure?
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May 21, 2024
May 21, 2024 at 4:35 PM UTC
Innocence Lost
Death... It is the one certainty in life. As soon as your born it lurks in the shadows. It has no conscious so its emotionally shallow. Whether young or old it will undesirably come one day. To take loved ones, friends and strangers away. It promises for sickness or health, for better or worse. Its mankind's only unescapable curse. Whether rich or poor theres no negotiating. Its coming for you, without any debating. It encompasses us all, has us waiting in fear. Because you never know the day or time it will be here. For many they never see it coming. Others see it, because theres no need for running. Older than us all but has no end to itself. Possibly lurking at your door depending on the cards you're dealt. One second you're feeling fine, enjoying life with no worries, symptoms or shortness of breath. Then unexpectedly you get a tap at your shoulder, turn around, and its death.
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Jan 10, 2018
Jan 10, 2018 at 1:18 AM UTC
Death