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Ember Evanescent Oct 2014
I have an odd liking
For things like unsweetened tea
A little bitter and burning
But I can't live without it
Along those very same lines
I like the type who don't
Shower me in too many compliments
With an off balance sense of confidence
Too sugary makes me sick
If you aren't burning and fiery and passionate enough
To scorch me
You're cold enough to freeze me
Fortunately I'm not afraid of emotion
Or burning
Or bitterness
I have an odd liking
For things like unsweetened tea

Repost if you have an odd liking for things like unsweetened tea
Please comment!
Repost if you have an odd liking for things like unsweetened tea
Please comment!
Karijinbba Apr 2020
Not a poem,;

A Repost:
Stay healthy beloved readers. I send you all my healing love:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Use apple cider vinegar or any vinagar asap even if you feel no tickle add sea salt gargle gargle gargle every hour if possible before and after eating! Or blend garlic and add vinagar gargle it!
men please do it! Go bathroom kitchen sink and look up at the ceilling open mouth wide gargle deep it shall burn a bit spit it out  do it sgain many times until it hurts no more.
Acid gets virus hiding in throat to come out and avoid getting the bicho nano bug into your lungs!?

A healthy immune system begins in the gut with a healthy balance of beneficial bacteria.

For far too many Americans, Candida overgrowth compromises the immune system, as it is constantly fighting the battle to keep Candida in control
If you do become ill, DO NOT feed the virus or the Candida with sugar. Yes, you need to drink a lot of fluids, but don’t drink sodas and sugary juices at this time. Cranberry unsweetened read lable cocktail has sugar get unsweetened one or grandberries fresh into blender or lemonade with stevia is a good choice. Try it warm or cold.

Gargle. Gargle. Gargle. Gargling lowers the viral load, leaving your throat body with fewer invaders to replicate.

So sip on this Mother Earth Organic Root Cider warm. Cold’s and flu often start in the throat or the nasal cavities.
At the first sign of a sore throat or sinus infection, sip on the root cider! If you don’t have it, use apple cider vinegar
Also flush your nose deep each side lean over sink to right and left sides flush nose for God's sakes alternate sea salt baking soda or use vinagar to nose too!? Rubb garlic on your nails eye bows.

Also, remember that a fever is one of nature’s means to fight infection.
Of course, you don’t want it to get too high (higher than 102) and drink plenty of fluids to prevent dehydration.
Filtered apple juice has boron brings down fever fast 4 to 6 onz every hour or if too sweet delute it half water half juice!
Vitamin A, vitamin D, vitamin E, and vitamin C are all vital nutrients for the immune system.
If you have any lip mouth sores you need to ballance minerals too much vitamin requires minerals fulvic humic

If you take high doses of vitamin C to fight a virus, remember that you should not abruptly stop taking vitamin C.
You should titrate down.
Vitamin C is needed by the immune system to make interferon, which the immune system produces to protect healthy cells from viral invasion.!!!

Zinc has been proven to be effective against the common cold and to be effective as a topical treatment for ****** sores.
ZINC It is believed to be effective due to preventing replication of the virus.
The immune system needs selenium to work properly and to build up the white blood cell count.
Berberine is an alkaloid compound found in several different plants, including European barberry, goldenseal, goldthread, Oregon grape, Phellodendron, and Coptis chinensis.

It has antibacterial, anti-inflammatory, antiviral, anti-parasitic, and immune-enhancing properties.
It’s been proven effective against a vast array of bacteria, protozoa, and fungi.
It can be used topically on cuts and other wounds, and it’s perhaps most commonly used to treat gastrointestinal issues.
Probiotics are always helpful in maintaining gut health, especially when the body is under a viral attack that involves the digestive system.
Probiotic foods and drinks without added sugar can help maintain a healthy balance of bacteria.

Garlic is anti-viral, anti-fungal, and antibacterial.
You can take garlic in a tonic or if you can handle it, chew raw garlic.
It not only will help fight the virus, it will help **** any secondary infections trying to take root.

Echinacea not only supports the immune system, it also has been proven to reduce the severity and duration of viral infections.

Colloidal silver is believed to interfere with the enzymes that allow viruses (bacteria and fungi as well) to utilize oxygen
A double-blind trail showed elderberry extract’s ability to reduce symptoms of influenza and speed recovery.

It also showed elderberry’s ability to enhance immune response with higher levels of antibodies in the blood.
It is believed to inhibit a virus’s ability to penetrate healthy cells and protect cells with powerful antioxidant S. Elderberry has also been shown to inhibit replication in four strains of ****** viruses and reduce infectivity of *** strains.

The flavonoids in green tea are believed to fight viral infections by preventing the virus from entering host cells and by inhibiting replication.

Though double-blind clinical trials are needed, olive leaf extract has been shown to inhibit replication of viruses. In one study, 115 of 119 patients had a full and rapid recovery from respiratory tract infections while 120 of 172 had a full and rapid recovery from viral skin infections such as ******.

Pau d’arco has been used in indigenous medicine for generations. One of its compounds, lapachol, has proven effective against various viruses, including influenza, ****** simplex types I and II and poliovirus. It is believed to inhibit replication.

Studies have shown that glycyrrhizin, a compound found in licorice root was more effective in fighting samples of coronavirus from SARS patients than four antiviral drugs. It reduces viral replication, cell absorption, and the virus’s ability to penetrate cells. It is also being used to treat ***.

St. John’s Wort has been proven effective against influenza, ****** simplex, and ***.

If you’re prone to viral infections or are dealing with a chronic infection like ***, as mentioned above, the first step is to get your gut in shape. This is absolutely imperative. The best article to do that with is Best Supplements To **** Candida and Everything Else You Ever Wanted To Know About Fungal Infections & Gut Health. Everyone who is chronically ill has an abundance of Candida. Yes, everyone.

Provided your gut is healthy, or if you just feel the need to skip that part, here are the supplements to take in order to make sure your immune system is able to fight off viruses:

While there are most supplements listed above, the combination of these listed here is more than enough to balance out the body and ward off viral infection.
~~~~~~~
A Repost By Karijinbba.
love kindnes helping one another
call neighbors help or ask for help...ask.
Dead Rose One Mar 2015
In The Prison Of Winter, No Rise, No Set**

orbit nearly closed,
the radio announcer gleefully
chirruping, the twittering fool,
"only ** graves to X off till
                                               spring"

the weight of the prior
the wait of the more
no matter how little
yet to come
                    too much insufferable

having suffered
multiple life sentences
you snit ****, u don't know better,
ha, they don't even run
                                         concurrently


there are no sunsets
in the girding grays
of harsher enough and words that fail me,
are the winners in the
winter of the ****,
tests and hunts,
I have successfully
                                 failed

of course I'm wrong you
petulant hobgoblin wringing
nyet from me you'll get no concession,
**** science,
there are no sunsets in the winter
and the sunrises,
short unsweetened,
light-less, less of less,
frigid glaring revealers
of dead trees
and deader
                    men

maybe in the Rockies,
perhaps the Alps,
wonderlands photoshopped,
pretty lies on the Internet BS posted

where I live,
wear the wear the weary
neath the sweat stink of layers of
unbundled choking hands,
winter's damage
assessed and assessment is
never overdue, payable in
                                             immediacy

heating bills I can't pay,
a job that said no more of you,
unpretty please,
a woman who sorcerer-scarced herself
right freaking black magic quick,
trust me I have certified verified,
me and Nixon,
X's on the kitchen calendar,
there is daylight, there is mighty night,
almighty in long and colorless
and nothing in between,
but the smog stained slush of
                                                    smothered life

but definitely
no sunrises and no sunsets
watched all day from the
imprisoning kitchen window
which doubles
as a *******
                       mirror

there are no, not any,
you know what,
cannot even say them,
the pipe dreams of better yet,
pipes that have beaten down
me and my
disassociated senses,
signed sealed and now delivered,
from the formerly known as
The Summer Man
Irma Cerrutti Mar 2010
He thwack no metronome to kick oneself
Thwack his **** sucker
With his monolithic flaccid trunk rubber
Me and my Dalek doped
And my excrement unsweetened
Copulate in the open without my jockstrap
You shat encrusted to what you deflowered
So at arm’s length ****** from all that we excreted in the wind’s eye
And I bounce a bedevilled backwash
My incredibles are shafted
I’ll **** **** to Arab

We only jabbered hasta la vista amongst homophones
I croaked a hundredweight arsonists
You **** posterior to her
And I **** **** to…
I **** **** to myself

I ****** you powerfully
The body beautiful’s not enough to go round
You enjoy spanking and I wallow in *******
And ***** is like a tobacco teabag
And I’m a bijou **** coming the corsets in custody

We only jabbered hasta la vista amongst homophones
I croaked a hundredweight arsonists
You **** posterior to her
And I **** **** to…

Arab, Arab, Arab, Arab, Arab, Arab, Arab
I **** **** to…
I **** **** to…

We only jabbered hasta la vista amongst homophones
I croaked a hundredweight arsonists
You **** **** to her
And I **** **** to Arab
Copyright © Irma Cerrutti 2009
Hark! Take heed, for this cake be both mighty and magnificent!

1.75 cups flour
2 cups white sugar
2 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. baking powder
0.75 cups unsweetened cocoa powder
1 tsp. salt
2 eggs
1 cup (as in 8 fl.oz/250mL.) strongly brewed coffee (make more and drink it!)
1 cup buttermilk (or 1 tbs. white vinegar+1 cup milk mixed well, blah blah)
0.5 cups cocoanut oil (or 0.33 cups basicallywhatever oil), a little less if ***
1 tsp. vanilla extract
OPTIONAL:
2-3 shots (60-90mL; 0.2-0.33 cups) black spiced *** (Kraken, if at all possible)
I also want to experiment with whiskey/burbon.. if you try it, let me know!

--Flour, sugar cocoa powder, baking soda+powder, salt mixed in one bowl
-- eggs, coffee, ***, buttermilk, oil, vanilla in another

Slowly mix the dry into the wet until as homogenous as possible.
I use an 8"x8" (20cmx20cm) pan @350F (175 C) for about 40 minutes, but I check on it at round 30 minutes because some variance may well apply. If you use olive oil, or avocado oil, or whatever other more fluid oil, I find a slightly hotter oven (375 F/190 C) can be advisable, but pay attention to your specific scenario! The worst that's happened for me is the top gets a bit crusty, but that pleasantly works with the overall moisture of the cake, especially with olive oil and the *** addition.
Do the toothpick test to see if it's ready!

Frosting is applicable, as well, because this Magical Cake is not horribly sweet for how horribly sweet it sure is. I usually just sprinkle some confectioner's sugar on it to make it look all fancy for my classy friends and band-mates.
ENJOY!
Bake responsibly, but have some fun.
Also, suffer the decimals!
This cake made my night, so I wanted to share what I can. The recipe!
Bet you didn't see that **** comin'! Hah!
Chemistry! Delicious chemistry!
-
lexiberi Jul 2014
Unsweetened
Just the way I like it
The bitter taste of your mouth keeps me from going sour
A negative comment every hour
Keeps me grounded
Stops my idle mind from making mistakes
My eyes open and I see you’re already awake
Eyes calculating, worried but sane
Unlike mine, only thinking with my left brain
You thinking with your right
Made up perfectly to balance each other out
GaryFairy Jan 2014
Another misfire for heaven's weapon
threaten lesson second session
another confession of deception
we are headed toward armageddon

truth seeking and eating reason
demon sleeping will get even
secret leaking ****** heathen
unsweetened creeping deepened

lesion from the freedom legion
eden eaten and not breathing
region of the code adhesion
needed beacon beaten defeated
Deana Luna Feb 2014
do you still like me- he asks.
soft tones and brittle bones. torn.
eyes roll. my eyes. away or repeating.
bits and pieces. bits and pieces of my heart have been scattered here.
feel them thudding down the hall.
under your sheets.
pressed up against your ears.

a creation of fantasies all splayed out on his floor.
***** me this way and that.
yeah? yeah? take it. take my ****.
directions from- unsweetened 2%

do you still like me.
a calming disposition. arms stretched like an alley cat. ready to run at the first sign of danger.
eager enough to go deeper, but still scarred from previous battles.

with all that i have left- smoothes away scars. until tears start pouring down hot cheeks.
Nola Leech Jan 2021
Sweet Tea wrote 3 months after I turned 15, 2018


Before you, I was a girl devastated by things I couldn’t change
Trapped in an endless bitter reality from which there was no escape
Sinking into a dark, spiraling well, from which I reached my hands and found a pool of light
You were my light, a haloed sunshine angel, who graced me with his presence for what seemed so long and ended so abruptly
The sound of your voice seemed to be honey, so sweet, attracting the bees, attracting me
My sunshine sweetheart, angel lover You’ve done your time so now you can leave
Why would you want to stay with me? I’m only a cement brick that will bring you down
A loose thread that will tear you down, a yammering parakeet who will wear you down
One time you told me that I thought too  highly of you
How couldn’t I? With someone who made me feel so confident with my body, somebody who praised me, someone who thought I was worth their time at least for the time being
In a way it’s better that you left, you’ll never be forced to see what I had to see looking in the mirror hating every inch of myself, hating the way I acted, and the way I interacted with everyone and hating the way no one seemed to like me
But you liked me, but it’s better this way because I’m a letdown
It’s Like when you thought you had bought sweet tea
But it’s actually unsweetened



The new version
Sweet Tea wrote 1 month before my 18 birthday, 2021

Before you, I was a girl alone
Being molested every day by the people who said they would take care of me
I was a fourteen-year-old girl who was taught at a young age to get yourself a man to save you
So I tried everything to keep you because talking to you distracted me from the fact my fourty-year-old stepdad was touching me
But what I definitely didn’t need was a twenty-year-old man messaging me
Telling me all the things he wanted to do to me
When the law would finally unclaim me and allow me to give someone a part of me he doesn’t deserve
You made me feel so much more alone
Somebody who told me he’d touch me
But instead of giving me what I’ll need he’ll leave
“Lick me up like an ice cream cone” huh Luke?
yes I thought highly of you
Because you made it seem like you’d never hurt me
You were the biggest disappointment
You always will be
original written about a man who groomed me in 2018 when I was 14, vs now I'm nearing 18 in 2021. as you can see I know how things are supposed to be now and I have stopped blaming myself
Nat Lipstadt Sep 2014
je pense bien à toi
(i think well of you)

Have not chatted in awhile,
me rutted in NYC,
a city of constant tear down
and sometimes flashy urban human
renewal...

While you,
you getting on with life,
growing up, growing down,
buying clothes for a new school season,
or growing children,
or boxing up now grandchildren memories of memories...
falling in love, writing poetry all about it...

You,
in Nepal, Malaysia, India,
Seattle, Portland, and the Florida's panhandle,
the US Midwest sainted hinterlands,
the South, that makes one love water,
water that has travelled from the faraway,
island continent of professorial Australia,
Did I forget the Philippines?

worse sin committed,
is that in
your poetry
I have not toe dipped,
quite the long erstwhile,
after loving it with
obsession devotion...

so just a Saturday afternoon
note penned just to you
and you alone...

je pense bien à toi
(i think well of you)

So by way of apology,
craft a poem for you exclusive,
more than each word, letter,
every syllable, tongue tasted
for conjuctivity,
breadth and thus discovered
notes of red soil, raspberry, lemon,
even a hint of sweet masquerading as a
salty kindness in our veins,
our unique vintage of connectivity

Your hand to my lips raised,
grasped twice, by mine both,
slow lifting with stature, affection and respect,
kiss it and whisper just enough for
we two to hear...

je pense bien à toi
(i think well of you)

even this seems weakly insufficient,
but care taken nowadays,
a new economy of words,
write less, think more, and
give up the truly deserved words only
as a mark of my fondness and respect

these come on no schedule,
often months in the making,
so forgive-me-not my unsweetened silences,
accept them with easy knowing that

je pense bien à toi
(i think well of you)

the summer man wintered in discontent,
his journey now disrupted by forces exogenous,
stealing his vision, jailing him in between
walls of indecision, knocking down
his own twin towers,
but carelessly not making provision
to tell you well and often enough

je pense bien à toi
(i think well of you)*

Sept. 13, 2014
Thank you SALLY for reminding me of this long ago poem 6/21/18
Lyn-Purcell Aug 2018
╰⊰✿´ℒ♡ⓥℯ '✿⊱╮
Deliciously sweet street treat
From dough unsweetened
Usually long, thin or thick
Deep fried, golden-brown
Sprinkled with sugar
mixed with cinnamon
Chocolate dip
Aaah!
╰⊰✿⊱╮
Fifth Epulaeryu! ^-^
*** 171 followers! THANK YOU, THANK YOOOOOUUUUU!!!!
Man, I'm so happy! ^-^
Lyn ***
Ember Evanescent Oct 2014
I can feel the rough surface of your goodbyes
Little monsters who bite at my flesh
They scar me and cut me and snag the little parts of me you loosened and I nearly let come undone
But at least I get to keep a little reminder of you
Even if it is a wound
A little something left of you to cling to
I can taste the bitterness of your unsweetened words
Their sour expressions like acid on my tongue
As they collide with mine, yours spilling from your lips, mine from mine,
and though you said you wished it and dreamed it, our lips, they never touched
Words words born of ink or vocal chords
Both vicious weapons and a divine form of healing
I can hear your silence
It whispers softly to me
It’s cold and sounds like the quiet night air when you are alone
And make a wish on a star even though you don’t believe for a second it could come true
I inhale the scent of your regrets
They haunt you and plague you like disease, ghosts and demons they stalk you in various states or consciousness
And their drifting aroma reminds me of the final day of autumn before the very first snowfall
I can see your mean streak
It cackles maliciously
Your shards of cruelty
They are silver and glint in the candlelight like blades
There is one intangible thing of yours that I can perceive in you that I really wish I couldn’t
I can’t taste it, or feel it by touch, sight, scent or sound.
It is not quite an idea
Nor a thought
Nor a concept or a fleeting feeling or emotion
But whatever it is It is swirling around your aura
Rising from your mind like steam from the fragile surface of a cup of Irish tea
And it stings so badly
Because whatever it is
I can sense it somehow with my soul
I can sense you not Missing me.
Not one little bit.
I love to read interpretations of my poetry! Please please comment!
Repost if you miss someone who doesn't miss you back
EssEss Dec 2022
A tropical paradise island is Hawaii that conjures a feeling of sheer joy,
It’s very mention evokes thoughts of vacationing one can really enjoy,
Location-wise one can state that it is “ far from the madding crowd”,
It is like heaven on earth, meant for visitors to be wowed

Waikiki in Honolulu is the hub for most hotels with proximity to the beach,
It’s just a 16-minute cab ride from the airport and thus quick to reach,
That the closest State to Hawaii is California - a 2500-mile sector,
Just shows how travel time from elsewhere, involves jet lag to factor

Located in the Pacific Ocean, Hawaii is quintessential if one may say so,
It is the only U.S. state outside North America that is an archipelago,
As the only state geographically located in the tropics,
It is a tourist haven, with always an abundance of optics

The word "Aloha" is commonplace in signages and on everyone's lips,
As a form of greeting it implies hello and welcome - a very useful tip,
The locals are very effusive when they greet visitors with Aloha,
One cannot but express delight by silently exclaiming, Aha!

"Mahalo" is another word that visitors get used to hearing frequently,
It means "thank you" - a gracious acceptance of the locals' hospitality,
The infectious warm welcome to visitors has an air of spontaneity,
Syncing with the embracing pervasive Hawaiian culture in it's entirety

The inevitable fresh flower "lei" welcome awaits visitors checking into hotels,
Lei is a symbol of hospitality, love, respect and aloha in which Hawaii excels,
A lei made from sea shells is an alternative option that one can have by choice,
Irrespective of the form of lei offered, wearing it is surely a matter to rejoice

Honolulu is the capital of Hawaii on the island of Oahu's south shore,
It is the largest city and gateway to the U.S. island chain and much more,
As one of the main eight islands in Hawaii, Oahu is the most populous,
It is also the business hub of the Aloha State and hence very famous

Also known as "The Gathering Place", Oahu aptly lives up to it's name,
As home to the majority of Hawaii's diverse population, it has a lot to gain,
There's the fusion of East and West cultures resulting in a delicate balance,
Rooted in the value and cultures of Native Hawaiian people, with no imbalance

The popular bustling and vibrant Waikiki neighborhood within Honolulu city is unique,
It is the epicenter for eclectic restaurants, nightlife and designer fashion boutiques,
Waikiki is also reputed for its white sandy beach that is a whole 2-mile stretch,
Where visitors throng throughout the day, as if there's little else the mind can fetch

Waikiki in Hawaiin means "spouting waters" and is replete with a gamut of water activities,
Surfing, snorkeling, swimming, canoe paddling and boogie boarding are typical beach proclivities,
With matching stunning views of the landscape, visitors can be seen lazing in total relaxation,
It is little wonder that the beach is always crowded and a famed getaway vacation destination

Friday night fireworks by Hilton Hawaiian Village along Waikiki Beach is a must-watch attraction,
The colorful display evoking delightful oohs and aahs from onlookers though, is of short duration,
The razzle-dazzle of the show skillfully transmits joy & happiness through the art of pyrotechniqes,
A feeling of bliss envelops one and all, on witnessing the sound-and-light show marvel mystique

Dole Whip is a popular non-dairy pineapple ice cream and, in Hawaii, is a cult-status confection,
A key ingredient is unsweetened coconut milk that adds creaminess and flavor to the selection,
Fresh lime bumps up the flavor and adds extra zing to the taste of the final Dole Soft Serve swirl,
Savoring the heavenly refreshing unique taste allows the hedonist's squeal of delight to unfurl

A visit to Oahu or any other Hawaii island is never complete without attending a traditional luau,
Luau represents a gathering meal of food, music and dance and is integral with Polynesian milieu,
It is a party like no other with continuous foot-tapping live music accompanied by Hawaiin dancing acts,
While the compere regales guests with anecdotes of Polynesian traditions laced with interesting facts

Hawaii is also famous for it's sensuous mimetic hula dance - traditionally, a form of communication,
Ancient hula, or "kahiko" with undulating gestures to instruments and chant was an original creation,
Transformed under Western influence to "auana", it now involves sinuous movement of limbs and hips,
The accompanying peppy music involves storytelling or place description well in tune with the scripts

The fitting finale to Hawaii luauas is generally the famed Samoan fire knife ceremonial dance,
A knife, partially exposed & wrapped in oil-soaked cloth is set alight for the performer's stance,
Incredible acrobatic stunts involve twirling, tossing and catching the knife to the fast beat of music,
The appreciative response of the audience builds up the momentum, reaching a crescendo almost seismic

Sauntering in the beach, one can watch people meandering about with gay abandon,
The inescapable feeling of blissful relaxation is typical of a destination-Hawaii vacation,
The days fly by, making you wish at the end that the stay could have been a tad longer,
While treasuring joyful memories in the interim, your thoughts go to similar places yonder
Here’s is an example from
A butterfly;
That on a rough, hard rock
Happy can lie,
Friendless and all alone
On this unsweetened stone.
Now let my bed be hard,
No care take I;
I will make my joy
Like this
Small butterfly,
Whose happy heart has power
To make a stone a flower.

ምሳሌ

አነሆ ምሳሌ ለኛ
ከቢራቢሮ
አልቦ ጓደኛ
ሆና ብቸኛ
የድንጋይ አልጋው
ባይሆንም ደንበኛ
ሻካራ ደረቅ አለት ላይ
ረክታ የምትተኛ፣
እኔም አልጋዬ ቢሆን ደረቅ
ከቶ አልሰቀቅ
ግድ የለም አልቸገር
አሁን ደስታዬን ከዚች
ቢራቢሮ ልበደር፣
ልቧ ጉልበት ያለው
አለቱን ወደአበባ ለመቀየር!

(በዊሊያም ሔነሪ ዳቪስ) //
Lifestyle,taking life easy,contentment with what one has
The inner child dies and
we look on this life
with jaundiced eyes.
The yellowing page of old age,
where the monsters
that hide on the underside of your bed
have the same look as you,
the look of the dead.
Coffee unsweetened

It is morning; the old man drinks coffee
while thinking about a dream he had in the night,
the dream, since didn't write it down is hazy
and soon it will be forgotten; the old man does
not write superficial love stories anymore.

The metaphysical, the abstraction of love that
transcend the physical aspect, has a god-like
quality in its understanding of the world as it
is, and it means acceptance of others opinion
even when it is a moth holed and trite one.

The old man knows he is a micro cosmos of
the world he lives in, this makes him shudder
because he given the right circumstances could
have been the incarnation of evil, but as it is,
his love of the living saved him from evil deeds.
b e mccomb Aug 2016
it was uncomfortably
hot out today

i put my cardboard box
down on the pavement
and squinted into
the midspring sun

grateful for the
knowledge
of the truth
the ukulele truth
and nothing but
the truth

like i could
scream every
johnny cash song
i've never learned
at every pathetic smoker
disobeying the signs

and i understood
oh but did i
understand
why they're always
pushing friday
on midweek radio shows

it's thursday
at 3pm
and guess what?
now we're free

(to roll in the grass
and soak up the sunshine
or maybe just
take a nap)


tell your winter
clothes where they
can stuff it
and your hick
christmas lights
to get lost

there's a pitcher
of unsweetened
ice tea with just a
dash of lemon juice
waiting for me when
i get home

and a cracked
front step to
nod off on once
it gets cooler

and even these
june bugs
out in may can't
bring me down.
Copyright 5/12/16 by B. E. McComb
Chelle Quezon Jul 2015
The broken strings of guitar
The unsweetened taste of chocolate
The unfinished puzzle
The weakened bricks of decaying building
The flower ripped from its stem
The blackened rainbow
The locked door
The vacant room
The Juliet without Romeo
The family without home
The darkness without light
The song without sound, melody and harmony
The body without soul

The heart with no love

The Girl without life.
C S Cizek Jul 2014
Modern and Contemporary Poetry
takes up most of the passenger seat.
Pages' edges ruffled like the balled-up polo I'm wearing. Tommy Hilfiger'd
be rolling in his millions.
Twenty minutes till work's screen door crashes on the frame twice before settling. Three salad plates, a skillet, and two jars of unsweetened tea condensate
on the metal counter. They soak dinner bills and paper towel coasters.
The front door vacuum seals behind sandal families reeking of Chlorine
and hairspray. Beachy look. Three more families crowd in behind them, taking turns sifting through the hostess desk peppermints for discarded toothpicks. Reservations for 7:00 come in at 6:50 and demand a table. They're  just like the mints packed tightly
in the lobby, but there are a few patient ones at the bottom.  They're the ones that inspire stanzas in **Modern and Contemporary Poetry
, the college textbook waiting on my passenger seat. *Three more hours.
DieingEmbers Jun 2013
Lips pressed gently
again soft
sweetly scented skin
the first flush
of spring
begging to be taken
it the tasting
of his kiss
teeth slowly grazing
untouched flesh
teasing the stone with tongue
from wetted peach
juice warm and sticky
drips from eager excited lips
in rivulets of pure unsweetened
pleasure
tongue moves faster
as mouth *****
hard
drinking deep each droplet
inhaling with each intake of breath
the waft of summer meadows
where lovers lay
and shared forbidden fruits
from scrumpied trees
as here
now
I taste once more
the heady bouquet of love
wrapped up in lustful
decadence
of greed and avarice
your pain my pleasure
your gift my gain
as spittle
from my or' excited tongue
mixes callously
with the spiced perfume
of your open petals
sedating only my thirst

but

not

my

hunger...
I'm eating a peach ;) honest I am
Lydia Apr 2017
"I don't feel strong enough."
"Well, at least you have a flat stomach."
Let's damage each other
Let's replace another meal with a bottle of water or unsweetened tea
Let's pray to be beautiful
Let's sit in five minute planks and run five miles and hope we throw up
Let's pretend that I've eaten three meals today, or yesterday, or the day before
Let's define myself by calories and carbohydrates and questionable decisions
Let me rot from my bone marrow to my skin which are just inches apart
Let me fade away until I am reborn


But I'm lucky and so the story doesn't end there
I left the scale under the cabinet
I went for a run because I love to feel my feet on the ground
I came home and ordered takeout
I'm not going to let my body rot
I've chosen life
I've chosen to be whole and real again
My girlfriend can touch me because I am more than skin and bones
I am more than a statistic
And I will always pray to be beautiful
But I will never starve to death.
This seemed like it was supposed to be a positive and inspirational prompt, but I've always had trouble accepting compliments and I've always had trouble feeling good enough so I thought that this would be more meaningful and true to who I am. Please comment :)
Sometimes I feel like ****

Even when I'm at my best

I sometimes feel like cutting myself with a knife  or a razor-blade,

Just to see my own blood flow down my

Skin and not even think about the pain

But only myself regrets that I want to

Drown away , I just wanna gun, and some *****,

And maybe some **** to go along,

That'll hold me down for awhile.

But later down the road I just mite,

Blow my ******* brains out,

End of story baby.

You knew I ******* loved you

How could you brake my heart

And ******* cheat

It's like I'm burning alive in my sleep

That makes me wonder why the ****

we even met anyways

I shoulda knew this **** was coming

To an end,

I shoulda knew this **** was heading to

Misery & pain

This **** is so bitter like unsweetened

Beer that makes you wanna **** up

**** and blame the world when in reality I know that I can't

cause your the ******* problem

I know you've hurt me but that's ok

You may have knot me down for now

But I will rise again like always

So go live with that basted Mr. John if you want

See if I give a **** girl

you so fake over that pretty face girl

Your full if lies you selfish ******* *****

Leave my light

And stop your ******* *******

You ****

**** the *******,

You were never romance.
Passionate lips and wandering hands
Pause for "I love you"s
Sneakingly seeming glances,
Smiles, stares, forever competing
With the beauty of the stars

Adrenaline rushing whilst colliding
Skin against skin, secrets
Abolished through ultimate truth
Gasping for unsweetened air
Nothing as delicious,
Nothing ever as addictive

The trance of you, your very existence
Overwhelmingly blameless
Blade Maiden Aug 2018
I have a strength in me
I fall in and out of love with thee
Brew a cup of unsweetened tea
for my strength and me

I sit them down and we talk for hours
On my table a vase of flowers
they brought me from outside where it showers
rain against the window, the trees look like towers

My strength calmly saying
our worries we should be laying
down upon the roots, no need for praying
stop the constant weighing

Of your worth and mine
you don't own these trees or the rain but this life is thine
now we will have tea, soon enough we'll be drinking wine
Over a hot cup my strength promises: we'll be just fine
Whitney Jan 2015
Wake with me in the early morning
when the breeze rustles over our slumbering selves
cooing at us gingerly from afar as if
we were newly born-tender and soft
awake in an unfamiliar world

Explore with me
childlike in curiosity and wonder
let us map the curves of our skin with the breathe of gentle fingers
whisper forgotten secrets down the length of our bodies
until we are nothing but shivers and sighs

Drink with me
let us taste the bitter remnants of our adolescent memories
swallowed down like pills unsweetened-
with morning coffee and stale toast
kiss them away until they are ghosts hanging in the draft
Kevin Eli Jan 2018
It's quite a feeling to wake up each day a little less numb. Honestly, it's terrifying to feel... anything. When somebody has carried on for so long without allowing oneself to feel love, accept love, or take risks to find love, they start to find that they are only half a human and only half living.

This chord may resonate like the sad sound of a violin because maybe the last time you fully loved someone, it gave you the ultimate pain, sadness, loss and suffering to the point where your favorite places, foods, music, shows, hobbies became a hole in your heart and breath. Where the sanctuary of sleep meant nothing to the rising haunted and longing memories within. Where the only solution you can think of is not waking up again and again.

That hole never goes away, and it's something that you just try to get used to. Some people don't, and they take their lives, or die of a broken heart, while others become lifeless. These last hold no light within their eyes, walking amongst us like hollow puppets on strings led onward by everyone else but themselves, never recovering from the shock of the loss of what they loved more than their self.

One remarkable feeling that often remains in loss is hate. To find blame and ask why a million times about a million things and run in a circle screaming at the top of your lungs every time the radio plays their favorite song and you blame the DJ for reminding you is insanity, but you're just looking for somewhere safe...

But you can never have it another way and you make lemonade as best as you can, unsweetened and sour. Knowing we all expire like the lemons under the tree, we make that **** lemonade and bring our recipe to market. With a second wind, the slightest breezes somehow keeps blowing down your lemonade stand.

Others may laugh and abuse you for what they see as a ****-poor performance at making lemonade, but they don't know how hard it was for this person to crawl on ****** hands and broken knees while their salty tears fell into the lemonade they call their own life then shakily offer you a half full Dixie cup of everything they had left.

I applaud those who have had to make lemonade with less than lemons and I applaud those who are willing to try these ad hoc recipes the most broken of us scribble frantic and blindly. Society tells us it is universal that we all want love, but the things that love entail like sadness, grief and loss are unwanted and many believe they can avoid the minefield by being picky, guarded, flighty or selfish... That's not love.

Love is work, love is painful. Love can take a lifetime out of you. It requires that we dedicate precious time here on Earth which we never get back to someone other than ourselves, and that is a risk that must be taken if it is to be found. You will get hurt, you will be broken, you will survive or succeed on your own terms. As humans, we look at the world and wonder why about everything; why am I alone? why does love hurt?

Only the universe knows. O' to say we should never ask if it was worth it and laugh. It always is. Even if you end up at 88 or 28 placing flowers on their grave, love is worth the risk.
Roselyn Nov 2012
You are sweet like vanilla

but bitter like unsweetened  chocolate

but I wonder why, when I walk past you

I can't help but to stop and take in the smell

you are  a painful addiction

but I can't help my self

you are like caffeine to me

so bad for me yet so good at the same time

I watch you with that other person

laughing like you won the battle

to see me crack like a baby's rattle

you want me to beg and scream for you back

you truly must be wack  

cause I am not going to crack


I am strong than this

I know that I can find some one better

who will love me for me

won't step on my heart

step on my pride

or spit in my face

I'll tell you one thing

I thought you were the one

the one who will be with be forever

but I guess I fell for that sweet smell

cause its **an addiction
Liz May 2013
The birds start singing around three,
once the coffee has unsweetened
from four spoons of sugar to two
and leftover Indian food has been
devoured and my contacts start to
tighten around my corneas. This
paper on ideological death of the
author has thoroughly kicked my
***, wrung the sass right out of
my tongue. All I can do is sit and
listen to the birdsong and wonder
what is so important that it must
be said at 3AM and is it really a
song and does it even matter if I
will never speak bird? They might
as well be speaking Chinese or
waves seizing the shore or you
and I locking eyes for hair split
moments. What did you mean to
say and does it even matter if I
have forgotten, if I ever even knew
how to speak your language?
I will not miss these all nighters after I graduate. no sir-ee Bob...
Sheltered promises
fitting male into female,
and I hold out in this hotel room
standing up for nothing.
There is a time to pay the price
and just get on the ride.

The local folk, they don't smile much.
So I hunt my alone time down,
only to set it free when caught.
Get a whiff of that!
It smells like someone died in here,
their spirit choking on crumbs of thought.

Metal bars and a chainlink fence,
chewed torn sleep when it comes.
Some only sleep,
maybe they are free until their lids separate.
The toll being too high for me to cross beyond.
Unsweetened, sweaty dreams chide and natter,
becoming bitter yearnings
off in the distance,
only markings made by memories.
Kaitlyn Marie Apr 2015
Your lips taste like morning dew dripping off of a flower petal, storing all the sugary sweetness of a captured sunrise. Or, like a lightening bolt, making the hairs on my arms raise, then bow down to you when you kiss my neck with warmed lips. Or, like rusty spigot water, but I can't stop drinking you, it's like I'm living in a drought, and you're my only source of H2O. Before you, around 2, maybe 3 AM, teabags would bleed brown, unsweetened blood rivers down my cup, and my throat, would conjure a hiccup, that would burn my chest, like a 2,400 degrees kiln. Our hands, clank and clink, like we're two dishes in a soapy sink, but we know how to ****** ourselves correctly, so we don't discrete our cranny veins. My heart is like a beet, the vegetable, pumping purple dye in my veins, making them look spider-like, or like smudged pen-ink. That's what writer's veins consist of, the inky words they write with their ball-point-pens. The way you kiss my head, my lips, my cheek, my hand, you make the butterflies in my heart come alive, like fireflies trapped inside a jar. My collarbone, your wishbone, my knuckles, 10for10 simple bones to be kissed, my head, precious, leaning, my scalp, awaits to be felt by your friendly lips. When we're apart, I get motion sick from missing you. I will write about you, forever. I love you, and I don't need my language for loving you drenched in alcohol for my true feelings to show. I talk about happiness, like it's something to take off. Being happy, with you, is simple. I'm weirder than you, maybe weirder than what you want, but weirdly good am I at being what you want, all you want. I like when you compare me to impossible things, like the unsure feeling of whether you're having a heart attack or a heart attract. You're kind the point of seeing, I could look at your face all day long. I love it when you worry about making sense, but nobody really ever makes sense, and that's the beauty of being human. Your voice pulls summer bones from earthen graves, your voice is beautiful, so beautiful, it's my favorite song. I'm in plant with you, and my plant for you grows daily.
(k.m.m)
Jonny Angel Aug 2014
A pressed Cuban
& potato salad,
unsweetened ice tea
& the ballad of John & Yoko
on the radio.
JP Goss Sep 2013
So this is what they call anomie?
A grayness,
A blank,
All things devoid of beauty?
When the eternal arms,
Have left me to my own devices,
To toil in deaden land
To paint futile pictures?
I’m wading through waves, through fires
Surely to send a man to delirium,
And as though it never came to pass
I sip unsweetened tea.
What rips men apart,
What fetters pull him in twain,
Simply move me with sway
And don’t move me at all.
Tears rush like the flume
Admonishments thrown
And I can only sigh in frustration
At all this petty emotion.
For man fills his stage with characters,
And bleeds ink all within his works
Aspiring to his own audience, the god he is,
I simply abuse this alchemy
To bide my time till death.
Call meaning what you will,
Fill your life with love,
Fill your life with gold,
with God,
with spite,
with studies,
with yourself.
I cannot,
I do not,
I know not these simple pleasures
Perpetually I am not full,
For there exists where faith should be
A deep impartial hole
If I could be normal,
If I could be normal,
If I could love,
If I could believe,
I’d turn away from it,
And choose to stare uselessly into my faithless hole,
All things beat on, as they be,
And this conviction, be it ever so keen,
That existence and living are useless things,
I’d still see what believers still see
That being the world as beauty,
I’d only see it with a more grayish hue
(Without the pretension to know what is true!)
And see the sense it lacks to see
And commit myself to this anomie.
He said I would never forget
the taste of his name
on my lips,

the soft sound of his breath
against my irregular heart
beat

he told me, the first thing
about love was to find the
right cadence of their name
in your mouth,

it was more important than
the brush of fingertips on
naked skin,

hungrier than
the touch of lips on lips,

needier than a thousand goodnights.

My tongue fitted the shape of it,
somehow, and I know a name
by any other rose would taste
bitter, like unsweetened lemonade

and our goodbyes would be the same, passionless, less urgent,
asserting that I would never
forget the taste of my first
love's name on my lips
Daisy Chain May 2013
fallen, i have crawled in
the rounded purple bay
stallin', crestfallen
your fingers so far away.
from my hair,
my cheeks,
the tears that tickle my lips.
defeated, twenty feet in
the cave that holds my drum.
beaten, wholly unsweetened
honesty dolled up
rolled up
covered in a velvet scroll
sinful, cinnamon smell
of the smoke
that fills both of our lungs.

— The End —