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"violently" poems
Her passion burns bright her fire catches me igniting my soul aroused by lust violently her flames engulfing me consuming my mind body held in captivity submitting mentally enchanted by her majesty
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Aug 21, 2016
Aug 21, 2016 at 9:47 PM UTC
Lust
A strange weather pattern Appears up in the sky, And a strange sludge splatters Into onlooking eyes. Menstrual matter falls From the great godless clouds, The people struck with awe As they run, scream alloud. A trickle turned downpour Of radiated blood, Now drowning in a storm That yields a *** flood. Dropping violently in pints, gallons, and leagues We become fossils under a ************ sea.
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Jul 3, 2010
Jul 3, 2010 at 6:50 PM UTC
************ Inundation
I don't know since when. This diet has began and gone extreme. There was once a reasonable aim. But a new one comes up whenever the old was claimed.   Crosses over the weekdays. Tell me how far I have gone. But the crosses goes on, They linger far too long.   I was counting on my calories. Eating portions from my lunchbox. No more than a quarter I couldn't stop. I'm sorry. But I'm not. Led by starvation my ultimate downfall. I was saving all the calories. For a binge at a time. Keeping in my desires. Till it's time to dine. No my throat is on fire. It's getting tire and tire. So I kept eating and release as I violently ***** This is all too disgusting. dreadful. disgusted am I. Nothing have I eaten for breakfast, lunch, tea and dinner. Spooning out from my kiwifruit. No one could save me. From my one and only solitude.
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Jul 31, 2014
Jul 31, 2014 at 4:45 PM UTC
The Kiwifruit and the Anorexic
STATE SHUT DOWN BY IDIOCY "This is correspondent, uh, burp... wait, winds r, yeah, okay go back on live camera..." pretend the wind is blowing you back "This is the most major storm in recorded history of this network!" "My God, I could die in this sh..stuff." "Five star hotel what the **** "Okay, okay, live we are, look here, pan closer, these leafs on this Raleigh plant here, see how violently they are moving?" LEAVES ARE FALLING! "That is the fear one feels knowing that a category two, at any moment, could become a category five." "This Dave Mowers live from Hawaii, checking in before I possibly die. Mom I love you, Dad, well, look how brave I am!" "Is that an Asian girl?" "What an a..cute *** that, cut to... to the violent leaves again you **** "I'll fire you cameraman!" *Four large oak trees have fallen. HAWAII HAS ENORMOUS SURF!.  Four large oak trees have fallen.**
0
Aug 24, 2018
Aug 24, 2018 at 11:59 PM UTC
LIVE FROM RALEIGH
Mumbai is rich, Mumbai is poor. Mumbai is fast, Mumbai is slower. Little bit sweet, and little bit sour, Sometimes it’s hot but not too more…. Mornings are energetic and evenings are electric. Noons are lazy but Nights are crazy And any one you ask he always say “M busy” Dude, life in Mumbai is not so easy There is lot of Masti with little bit of Maska Welcome to the city that can’t live, without Bollywood Chaska From cooker whistles to the traffic jam horns, From steaming tea kettles to breaking nut-betels From telephone rings and doorbell brings. There are people connecting through Blackberry pings Where there’s little time to spare for kids People here spend their lives on bids Here you actually pay your travel fare by meter But milkman mixing water is not a cheater! Sev puri and bhel puri are all Mumbai chaat Relishing it with spicy chutney is no easy art From pop-corn to ice-cream, all sold on cart Mumbai o Mumbai, you’re always close to my heart Where local trains usually run on time And violently rushing for a seat is not a crime Here 3 PM for lunch and 12 AM to dine People face hardships, but still say “it’s fine” From Mt Mary in Bandra to Mumba Devi in Town And ISKCON in Juhu to Haji Ali in Mumbai’s Crown Faith runs deep as the Arabian Sea But people don’t hesitate to pay early darshan fee. Marathi, Punjabi, Gujarati and Bengali Everyone forgather celebrate Id and Diwali Holi is colourful and Christmas is cheerful Spend some time here and your life will be un-forgetful Billionaire to baggers, all found in this city Be careful dude, this place is a bit witty. Overall this dream-world is huge but pretty Mumbai o Mumbai you’re wonderful city.
0
Feb 3, 2016
Feb 3, 2016 at 1:15 AM UTC
Mumbai
Mumbai is rich, Mumbai is poor. Mumbai is fast, Mumbai is slower. Little bit sweet, and little bit sour, Sometimes it’s hot but not too more…. Mornings are energetic and evenings are electric. Noons are lazy but Nights are crazy And any one you ask he always say “M busy” Dude, life in Mumbai is not so easy There is lot of Masti with little bit of Maska Welcome to the city that can’t live, without Bollywood Chaska From cooker whistles to the traffic jam horns, From steaming tea kettles to breaking nut-betels From telephone rings and doorbell brings. There are people connecting through Blackberry pings Where there’s little time to spare for kids People here spend their lives on bids Here you actually pay your travel fare by meter But milkman mixing water is not a cheater! Sev puri and bhel puri are all Mumbai chaat Relishing it with spicy chutney is no easy art From pop-corn to ice-cream, all sold on cart Mumbai o Mumbai, you’re always close to my heart Where local trains usually run on time And violently rushing for a seat is not a crime Here 3 PM for lunch and 12 AM to dine People face hardships, but still say “it’s fine” From Mt Mary in Bandra to Mumba Devi in Town And ISKCON in Juhu to Haji Ali in Mumbai’s Crown Faith runs deep as the Arabian Sea But people don’t hesitate to pay early darshan fee. Marathi, Punjabi, Gujarati and Bengali Everyone forgather celebrate Id and Diwali Holi is colourful and Christmas is cheerful Spend some time here and your life will be un-forgetful Billionaire to baggers, all found in this city Be careful dude, this place is a bit witty. Overall this dream-world is huge but pretty Mumbai o Mumbai you’re wonderful city.
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38
One day my brother and I walked the path to the Mango Tree I was so happy to go see my friend the mango tree. How ever my brother was not… “What’s so great about a stupid ol’ mango tree it’s never done anything for me!” “SHH!” I said scornfully “She has feelings too, and she has done much for you. She has given us her fruit to fill our bellies and shade for free.” But my brother didn’t listen to me, He stubbornly went and kicked the tree repeatedly. And yelled “Mango Trees do NOT have feelings!” The tree shook violently and out from under it’s leaves dropped a bright green mango SMACK right on my brothers head and he fell dead. Another juicy plump mango dropped at my feet like the Mango Tree was thanking me. I picked it up and sat beside my senseless brother by the Mango Tree while devouring my mango and enjoying the silent scenery.
0
May 21, 2012
May 21, 2012 at 3:00 PM UTC
Irony of the Mango Tree
I look out from this little world with all it's dancers dancing Mighty trees tickle the sky The birds in them romancing If we but stop and listen we'll hear the music playing Stop a while and close your eyes exhale the troubles weighing Down around your shoulders Thoughts that cloud your heart We're only here but for a while Before we drift apart Like clouds across the silver moon we're here and gone far too soon Then pass into the inky night Still around, yet out of sight Some of our clouds stretch for miles Others stacked in fragile piles Some full and dark and hanging low Filled with tears they can't let go Some so wispy and so light Their presence a mere oversight Some whose wrath begets a name Who form a mighty hurricane Some who rumble in the night Hurling lightening left and right Some dark and brooding, filled with snow Dumping ice on all below Some that twist right to the ground Violently they spin around Some collide, some drift away Some prefer night, some prefer day So let us stop and gaze up high To find ourselves within the sky
0
Feb 7, 2015
Feb 7, 2015 at 12:40 PM UTC
Clouds
It was a cold, wintry December day. I was at home, sitting by the fire. The fire was hot, but from where I sat, it felt like a warm blanket. Suddenly, my ******* started to lactate, uncontrollably. I did not know what was going on. I lifted up my soaking wet shirt, and put my hands over my ******* in an attempt to stop the lactating, but it did not work. And then, it stopped. I squeezed my ******* to see if they would lactate again, but nothing happened. I went to bed, hoping this nightmare would be over in the morning. But it wasn't. When I woke up, I went into the bathroom to perform my daily morning activities, when I realized something on my chest. A third ****** I tried to rip it off, but I couldn't. Later that day, at dinner, I was eating a juicy, tender steak, when suddenly, all three of my ******* began to lactate! I tried to stop them, for they were lactating all over my steak. Then, like before, it stopped. This proceeded for many days. Everyday, I woke up with another ****** and everyday around six o'clock, they would all lactate, until one day, the unthinkable happened. I woke up. I could not move. I had no legs. No arms. I was a giant ****** "NO!" I screamed. Then, as usual, I began to lactate, violently, and then I exploded.
0
Apr 6, 2012
Apr 6, 2012 at 7:20 AM UTC
******
It all begins With pronouns I becomes the subject Of my project Adding you And collectively we I choose you and me And I exclude the he and the she Until I am certain of we You and I pick verbs actions Inflect them to match fit begin narratives Transitive verbs take objects You touch tickle tease taste take skin ******* lips me with words Words have become a clause But still a simple construction So, you tickle me where? For this you need a preposition To position your tickling ammunition Do you touch tickle tease me ON my ******* ******* thighs buttocks **** Do you feel me INSIDE my mouth **** soul? Positioning is envisioning. Then you use adjectives To modify descriptions of Sensory inscriptions So, gentle complements touch Soft and passionate kiss And you become superlative And adverbs elaborate experience expression exploration You fill me deeply thoroughly violently with all that is you But adverbs can also mean time Not sweet or cursed time Or time denoting age But timing is always important And grammar dictates That Time adverbs are placed As a beginning or an end Like a lover's embrace Thus, This morning, you woke me with A demanding "here and now! " and I will reciprocate this, tonight, I vow. Conjunctions are sentence connectors And sentences behave like detectors Bodies balancing with and, but, or Otherwise subordinate And the scale tips towards Conditioning hypotaxis Making actions a complicated praxis (before my mind can connect, you will have to pursuade it /pursue it) But we coordinate conjunctions Equally I touch you You touch me Exploring Exploding sensory functions So, together we cry imperatives Completing our ****** narratives Moaning Whimpering Begging Yelling: Please... bind me! touch me! bite me! take me! come! Oh! Please, come! I love the English language... ;)
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Feb 24, 2013
Feb 24, 2013 at 5:10 PM UTC
Exploring Grammar (why I love the English language)
It all begins With pronouns I becomes the subject Of my project Adding you And collectively we I choose you and me And I exclude the he and the she Until I am certain of we You and I pick verbs actions Inflect them to match fit begin narratives Transitive verbs take objects You touch tickle tease taste take skin ******* lips me with words Words have become a clause But still a simple construction So, you tickle me where? For this you need a preposition To position your tickling ammunition Do you touch tickle tease me ON my ******* ******* thighs buttocks **** Do you feel me INSIDE my mouth **** soul? Positioning is envisioning. Then you use adjectives To modify descriptions of Sensory inscriptions So, gentle complements touch Soft and passionate kiss And you become superlative And adverbs elaborate experience expression exploration You fill me deeply thoroughly violently with all that is you But adverbs can also mean time Not sweet or cursed time Or time denoting age But timing is always important And grammar dictates That Time adverbs are placed As a beginning or an end Like a lover's embrace Thus, This morning, you woke me with A demanding "here and now! " and I will reciprocate this, tonight, I vow. Conjunctions are sentence connectors And sentences behave like detectors Bodies balancing with and, but, or Otherwise subordinate And the scale tips towards Conditioning hypotaxis Making actions a complicated praxis (before my mind can connect, you will have to pursuade it /pursue it) But we coordinate conjunctions Equally I touch you You touch me Exploring Exploding sensory functions So, together we cry imperatives Completing our ****** narratives Moaning Whimpering Begging Yelling: Please... bind me! touch me! bite me! take me! come! Oh! Please, come! I love the English language... ;)
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Heartbreak, isn't as easy as it looks. You took my heart, Put it on hooks, And butchered Whatever remained. Now it will never work the same. Yet still I see your name And that heart ache becomes, A mobile destructive vortex Of violently rotating winds A funnel-shaped cloud Attached to a large storm system. Yes, heartbreak is like a tornado, That spirals within me, Each time I think of you, Tearing and ripping, And pulling me through. Nothing could prepare me for this weather. Yet I can't imagine anything better, I prefer to face this tornado everyday, It will, Remind me, Of you, Forever.
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Jun 9, 2014
Jun 9, 2014 at 8:33 PM UTC
Tornado
Screams in the pitch black Turn to butterflies, moths Lilac wings beating wisps of air Like wisps of ghosts Invisible people, touching, reaching Grabbing, pulling, gnawing, curling around Each part of the body at all times The feeling creeps into the mind Each and every day Tossing on the blankets in bed Latching, anchoring to them Hands hold so tightly that the Knuckles are white and Ache with a deepness, Like the deepness of An endless black hole And falling, nothingness surrounding Every part of the body Every part of the mind Violently flailing, scratching Clawing, dragging, raking, None of them win the battle. It grips us in the times That our resolve falters In our own darkness Our own corner somewhere between the synapses firing terror Our own abyss
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Oct 2, 2014
Oct 2, 2014 at 11:53 AM UTC
Fear
"This is the day we've been waiting on.  It's ok to be nervous but don't be scared.  You are the sacred vessel" said the tall dark skin woman as she looked down into the eyes of the ten year old boy.  Dressed in a red and black robe the ten year old boy says "I'm not afraid.  I'm just ready to get this over with."  "That's just what I wanted to hear Levi.  It's time to get started.  Please follow behind me" said the tall dark skin woman.  "Yes mother" said Levi as he followed his mother out of his room.  Leading Levi down a long hall that was illuminated with red light his mother says "When Priest summon the spirit Cruelty remember not to fight it.  Just let it take over."  "Ok" said Levi.  When Levi and his mother entered the worship area Levi's mother had him stand in front of the altar and the clergy.  "Thank you Harriet for escorting Levi to the altar" said a tall figure wearing a black hooded robe.  "You're welcome Priest" said Harriet.  Stepping down from the altar holding a baby creature in his right hand and a knife in his left hand Priest stood in front of Levi.  Priest stabbed the baby creature in it's stomach and ripped it opened.  He then dipped his finger in the baby creature's blood and anointed Levi's forehead with it's blood.  "Bring me the Book of Sins" said Priest.  Stepping down from the altar holding the Book of Sins a short figure wearing a black hooded robe brought Priest the Book of Sins.  Turning to the chapter of Cruelty, Priest began reading.  "As night blinds the sight of the male and the female and Hate stands on the grave of Love.  Only then will evil reveal it self.  Like Death stalking the living Cruelty will crush Kindness.  I offer this vessel to the mistress Cruelty.  Come forward I summon you Cruelty."  When Priest finished reading from the Book of Sins the red lights that illuminated the compound began to flicker off and on.  From out of no where a gust of wind began to circle around Levi.  Slowly the wind began to transform into black smoke.  Over taken with fear Levi was unable to move.  Entering through Levi's gaping mouth the black smoke took possession of him.  Shaking violently Levi fell to the floor.  "Levi are you all right?" asked Priest.  Standing to his feet and looking Priest in his face with eyes as black as death Levi says "The child is no longer in control."  Walking up to Priest, Levi sticks his hand in Priest's stomach and pulls out his intestines.  "LEVI YOU KILLED YOUR FATHER!" screamed Harriet as she ran over to the lifeless body of Priest.  "I am Cruelty.  Like I told the child's father Levi is no longer in control but for amusement everyone may still call me Levi" said Cruelty as she looked at Harriet.  Pointing at the robed figures on the altar Cruelty tells them to get rid of Priest's dead body.  "Yes Levi" said the robed figures. Written by Keith Edward Baucum
0
Sep 29, 2015
Sep 29, 2015 at 10:33 AM UTC
Evil Levi Chapter One
"This is the day we've been waiting on.  It's ok to be nervous but don't be scared.  You are the sacred vessel" said the tall dark skin woman as she looked down into the eyes of the ten year old boy.  Dressed in a red and black robe the ten year old boy says "I'm not afraid.  I'm just ready to get this over with."  "That's just what I wanted to hear Levi.  It's time to get started.  Please follow behind me" said the tall dark skin woman.  "Yes mother" said Levi as he followed his mother out of his room.  Leading Levi down a long hall that was illuminated with red light his mother says "When Priest summon the spirit Cruelty remember not to fight it.  Just let it take over."  "Ok" said Levi.  When Levi and his mother entered the worship area Levi's mother had him stand in front of the altar and the clergy.  "Thank you Harriet for escorting Levi to the altar" said a tall figure wearing a black hooded robe.  "You're welcome Priest" said Harriet.  Stepping down from the altar holding a baby creature in his right hand and a knife in his left hand Priest stood in front of Levi.  Priest stabbed the baby creature in it's stomach and ripped it opened.  He then dipped his finger in the baby creature's blood and anointed Levi's forehead with it's blood.  "Bring me the Book of Sins" said Priest.  Stepping down from the altar holding the Book of Sins a short figure wearing a black hooded robe brought Priest the Book of Sins.  Turning to the chapter of Cruelty, Priest began reading.  "As night blinds the sight of the male and the female and Hate stands on the grave of Love.  Only then will evil reveal it self.  Like Death stalking the living Cruelty will crush Kindness.  I offer this vessel to the mistress Cruelty.  Come forward I summon you Cruelty."  When Priest finished reading from the Book of Sins the red lights that illuminated the compound began to flicker off and on.  From out of no where a gust of wind began to circle around Levi.  Slowly the wind began to transform into black smoke.  Over taken with fear Levi was unable to move.  Entering through Levi's gaping mouth the black smoke took possession of him.  Shaking violently Levi fell to the floor.  "Levi are you all right?" asked Priest.  Standing to his feet and looking Priest in his face with eyes as black as death Levi says "The child is no longer in control."  Walking up to Priest, Levi sticks his hand in Priest's stomach and pulls out his intestines.  "LEVI YOU KILLED YOUR FATHER!" screamed Harriet as she ran over to the lifeless body of Priest.  "I am Cruelty.  Like I told the child's father Levi is no longer in control but for amusement everyone may still call me Levi" said Cruelty as she looked at Harriet.  Pointing at the robed figures on the altar Cruelty tells them to get rid of Priest's dead body.  "Yes Levi" said the robed figures. Written by Keith Edward Baucum
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2
You're a volcano in winter Made when the Earth splintered Tectonic plates shifted And you were gifted The frigid air outside is subzero So you become my volcanic hero When you scorch the cold With your warmth so bold I await an eruption But there's a disruption Dormant you remain With suspicion engrained But entering your main vent Was not my main intent Yet now that I'm in your magma chamber I can see your anger You're made of lava and ash So you demand drama and cash And violently explode in a flash You've become my Krakatoa When I wish I didn't know ya Because of your grand magnitude I question my aptitude And insecurity ensues As confidence I lose I realize I've gone too far When I feel your lava discharge That pushes me into your crater The pain I feel couldn't be greater When all I see is an ashen cloud And all I hear is your lashing growl Inside of your volcano There is a tornado As sure as day glow I feel I must lay low And dodge the debris While playing referee As you're dissecting me In your burning sea That swirls in a cyclone maelstrom Hell is where it was mailed from I receive it Reprieveless I begin to drown in fire And wish to retire You think you're neat Yet despite your heat You're a cold blooded lizard But outside there's a blizzard So I get used to your volcano I can't contain my disdain though
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Jan 9, 2018
Jan 9, 2018 at 6:18 AM UTC
Volcano
First things first I'd like to apologise I'm sorry I'm not the good Indian girl I was bred to be I'm sorry I don't make round rotis I'm sorry that the tongue I use to speak punjabi is broken and hides in my mouth unused until desperately needed I'm sorry that I don't cook and clean efficiently enough to be wifey material Sorry that I love who I love and don't hate who I was told to Sorry that I can't follow gods blindly and not try to sneak back stage to see their shining gold adornments and blue body paints and multiple arms in full and bare glory and scandal I'm sorry that I'm actually not sorry for any of this I'm sorry that these are false and empty apologies I am unapologetically whole A human not just a race A female not a trust fund or business transaction I filter out the good parts of the culture I'm from and the ones I identify with I'll wear docs under my saari no apologies I'll grind on dancefloors and do the best Bhangra dance you'll ever see unashamedly Hareems and hoodies Bindies and pin up eyeliner Hedonism and head in the clouds My ambition is Ambedkar untouchable My drive is a salt march surging silently non violently through cities My hometown pride is built in concrete and rickshaw dust, Prejudice and Bollywood lust
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May 14, 2015
May 14, 2015 at 1:25 PM UTC
Heritage
A frigid night-- the frosty air. I shiver in the wake.. My fragile, numb fingers attempt to touch my face. I'm frozen.... The crisp, biting wind gusts violently toward me.. I exhale a visible breath and trudge onward over the frozen lake.
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Nov 20, 2014
Nov 20, 2014 at 10:00 PM UTC
Frozen
You used to be my pink skies and cotton candy clouds but now everything is grey, rainy and miserable. And it makes me want to cry. We're going in a different direction now and I am not the one who pulled the steering wheel. I no longer see my open fields flooded far and wide with cherry blossoms and all the green sparrows have flown away. They are crying now and I can no longer hear your voice. Instead, it is all a barren wasteland. And the sand is not even at least the beautiful orange the Sahara desert always is. All the portraits in my castle have gone blank. The castle itself, war torn, brought down to rubble as a result of the battle I fought within myself. I may have lost the battle but I have not yet lost the war. I hope. Unfortunately, our worlds did not collide as subtly as I had prayed. It was a violent mishap, an event outside of time. I sit silently and alone in the centre of my dreams as I have witnessed them being violently washed away by ocean waves with my hands tied and bound by my admiration for you. You like beaches right? That has to mean something, maybe a reason for you to stay a little longer. You are my Dystopia. But dystopia is subject to interpretation. And what is yours will never be mine and what is mine you do not even want at all. My dystopia sounds like it belongs in a book, but we all know how long that lasts. Be sure to check out Utopian Dystopia Pt. 1!
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Sep 25, 2018
Sep 25, 2018 at 2:27 PM UTC
Utopian Dystopia Pt. 2
An artist, I’m scared to be left to my thinking atoms and nuclear cells Why solder my raining thoughts to reality In my head I can’t trust these clockworks Rusted gears precariously tricking forward Tensions unbalance on a pinched nerve ending Hesitate I retract to others knowing what I don’t know That once I start I might fail I don’t do what I want to I don’t speak when I want to When I so desperately need to Before I explode Violently, into a void Void of emotionless urges An artist like me if I so believe I am Doubtfully attempts to act in the face of thunder Only to cowardly hide in a cat’s whisker Inner bricking delays outer progress Progress I provocatively flaunt to the alive bodies While knowing the fallacious congrats is unwarranted I don’t believe in magical rainbow kitten surprise wishes But I won’t also hide my love With the internal flame dimming I want to act the part by flipping over the stones For the mysteries hidden away To see them crawling out My untapped desires
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Jul 28, 2018
Jul 28, 2018 at 6:34 PM UTC
Self: An Artist
When you find yourself wrapped in loneliness or violently suspended by a rogue desire, uncloak yourself. fight free. you are always in control.
0
Jul 21, 2014
Jul 21, 2014 at 12:34 PM UTC
Control
“i haven’t seen her in years,” said the hospital bed, “though i’ve seen many others, who sobbed violently like her, who sunk into me like a young, rusting anchor. who could not get comfortable in one position or one mindset or one truth. i have felt them dig in their heels and try to ache and and fight and scream, just quietly enough not to wake their roommate.” “i remember their shapes,” said the hospital bed, “how their voices rose slowly like a far-off ambulance siren, how their faces fell when they remembered the emergency was right here. i have been kicked, punched, clung to, held on to, as if gravity switched suddenly and they feared yet another aspect of the universe was against them. i’ve seen ***** sheets and i’ve seen clean ones. i’ve seen boys with tattoos on their faces and razor marks on their arms. i’ve seen pain. i’ve seen girls who wouldn’t turn off the lights, girls who couldn’t turn off the lights, girls who had turned a light off once and never wanted to do anything else. i’ve seen pain. i’ve felt love before more often than the lovers thought they loved, more strongly than the fighters thought they could fight. in shaky hands folding down blankets more carefully than they have all week in heads that flop ungracefully onto pillows, securely, fulfilled. in the slow turn of a hospital bracelet around a pale wrist, in large, golden brown hands, inspected through tear-blurred eyes, through scratched glasses, picked up off the floor after discovering force won’t carry a ring of thin plastic as far as you thought. i hear change in whispers, good night, good luck, in hushed acceptance, in ‘yes, i really am here’. in screams that send nurses in panic only to find you were laughing. in numbers, in ‘five hundred milligrams,’ in ‘three gained pounds’, in ‘one more day’. i hear shock, i hear fear, in echoes of parents’ voices, ‘why here? why now?’ i have heard and seen and felt all of them. but she,” continued the hospital bed, “hasn’t been in here in a while. i haven’t heard her whisper to her roommate about what she did ‘that night’, i haven’t seen her sneak away from her pile of pajamas as if she didn’t just hide something there, i haven’t heard her empathize with a pencil sharpener. it’s been so long, it’s hard to imagine,” said the hospital bed, ‘i hardly remember her'. if only the hospital bed knew that she could hardly remember herself from then either, if only it knew she hadn't stopped fighting once she left if only it knew how she felt when they said she only needed to go to therapy every other week. it felt like progress, and it felt like hope, and no one better than a hospital bed could understand that.
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Oct 21, 2014
Oct 21, 2014 at 11:43 PM UTC
Hospital Bed Said
“i haven’t seen her in years,” said the hospital bed, “though i’ve seen many others, who sobbed violently like her, who sunk into me like a young, rusting anchor. who could not get comfortable in one position or one mindset or one truth. i have felt them dig in their heels and try to ache and and fight and scream, just quietly enough not to wake their roommate.” “i remember their shapes,” said the hospital bed, “how their voices rose slowly like a far-off ambulance siren, how their faces fell when they remembered the emergency was right here. i have been kicked, punched, clung to, held on to, as if gravity switched suddenly and they feared yet another aspect of the universe was against them. i’ve seen ***** sheets and i’ve seen clean ones. i’ve seen boys with tattoos on their faces and razor marks on their arms. i’ve seen pain. i’ve seen girls who wouldn’t turn off the lights, girls who couldn’t turn off the lights, girls who had turned a light off once and never wanted to do anything else. i’ve seen pain. i’ve felt love before more often than the lovers thought they loved, more strongly than the fighters thought they could fight. in shaky hands folding down blankets more carefully than they have all week in heads that flop ungracefully onto pillows, securely, fulfilled. in the slow turn of a hospital bracelet around a pale wrist, in large, golden brown hands, inspected through tear-blurred eyes, through scratched glasses, picked up off the floor after discovering force won’t carry a ring of thin plastic as far as you thought. i hear change in whispers, good night, good luck, in hushed acceptance, in ‘yes, i really am here’. in screams that send nurses in panic only to find you were laughing. in numbers, in ‘five hundred milligrams,’ in ‘three gained pounds’, in ‘one more day’. i hear shock, i hear fear, in echoes of parents’ voices, ‘why here? why now?’ i have heard and seen and felt all of them. but she,” continued the hospital bed, “hasn’t been in here in a while. i haven’t heard her whisper to her roommate about what she did ‘that night’, i haven’t seen her sneak away from her pile of pajamas as if she didn’t just hide something there, i haven’t heard her empathize with a pencil sharpener. it’s been so long, it’s hard to imagine,” said the hospital bed, ‘i hardly remember her'. if only the hospital bed knew that she could hardly remember herself from then either, if only it knew she hadn't stopped fighting once she left if only it knew how she felt when they said she only needed to go to therapy every other week. it felt like progress, and it felt like hope, and no one better than a hospital bed could understand that.
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Oh Venerable Zeus, grant Persephone’s petition to retain Adonis! I, as Queen of the Underworld, can Protect his charming body from vicious men It is here where he found his safest den Here I’ll protect his flesh from being stricken Oh Venerable Zeus, grant Persephone’s petition to retain Adonis! I, as keeper of this handsome lad since his childhood Seeks for him nothing, but everything that’s good It is his well-being that lights up my mood I’ll badly be hurt when he’s hurt by someone shrewd Oh Venerable Zeus, grant Persephone’s petition to retain Adonis! Shrewd is his rival for the love of Aphrodite He will be in great danger with her, can’t see? Surely from Ares wrath, he’ll experience something nasty And also with the god of fire, he’ll surely die violently! Oh Venerable Zeus, grant Persephone’s petition to retain Adonis! Have mercy! Have mercy! To this youth so fine! Have mercy! Have mercy! To this youth of mine! To deadly earth above, don’t allow him to incline If this bad fate happens, my eyes will emit brine Oh Venerable Zeus, grant Persephone’s petition to retain Adonis! Witness me mourn for the loss of this lad! Do you want the Queen of the Dead to feel bad? If Adonis is gone, my brain will also be mad! Oh Venerable Zeus, grant Persephone’s petition to retain Adonis! From this sanctuary, do not take him away Do not let my life be in disarray To make him remain here, tell me the way I bow, I kneel, I prostrate, I pray! -02/09/2015 *Hopelessly Immortal Collection (Dumarao)
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Sep 21, 2019
Sep 21, 2019 at 9:52 PM UTC
Persephone’s Petition to Retain Adonis
Oh Venerable Zeus, grant Persephone’s petition to retain Adonis! I, as Queen of the Underworld, can Protect his charming body from vicious men It is here where he found his safest den Here I’ll protect his flesh from being stricken Oh Venerable Zeus, grant Persephone’s petition to retain Adonis! I, as keeper of this handsome lad since his childhood Seeks for him nothing, but everything that’s good It is his well-being that lights up my mood I’ll badly be hurt when he’s hurt by someone shrewd Oh Venerable Zeus, grant Persephone’s petition to retain Adonis! Shrewd is his rival for the love of Aphrodite He will be in great danger with her, can’t see? Surely from Ares wrath, he’ll experience something nasty And also with the god of fire, he’ll surely die violently! Oh Venerable Zeus, grant Persephone’s petition to retain Adonis! Have mercy! Have mercy! To this youth so fine! Have mercy! Have mercy! To this youth of mine! To deadly earth above, don’t allow him to incline If this bad fate happens, my eyes will emit brine Oh Venerable Zeus, grant Persephone’s petition to retain Adonis! Witness me mourn for the loss of this lad! Do you want the Queen of the Dead to feel bad? If Adonis is gone, my brain will also be mad! Oh Venerable Zeus, grant Persephone’s petition to retain Adonis! From this sanctuary, do not take him away Do not let my life be in disarray To make him remain here, tell me the way I bow, I kneel, I prostrate, I pray! -02/09/2015 *Hopelessly Immortal Collection (Dumarao)
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one more time, she whispers, she whispers violently, tremulously, like an addict whispers to the fingernail marks in her skin, like persephone whispers to pomegranate seeds, like sin, and her whispers collect on dollar bills in the wind, and the money flies home but she's still sitting in that bin, wondering if Hades ever regretted his win
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Aug 20, 2017
Aug 20, 2017 at 7:40 PM UTC
i dust these shelves every day, but i still find guilt
Be gentle with us. please. or not it's your call but keep in mind that we as poets we feel too strong which is not to say that that is wrong we don't ease into love, we quickly fall we love like we're dying we live like we're small but in our minds. in our minds we are flying we feel everything at once you wouldn't think it by looking looking at our normal fronts a disguise, a charade but prey don't believe a masquerade a poet can be but anyone existing silently a poet can be but everyone existing violently we all make up stories we're all acting to a degree so things aren't so different no not so different you and me we notice the quirks we notice the nothings if you meet a poet then you should believe you should know that we we love what we see and appreciate all forms of beauty for to us imperfect is lovely perfect doesn't exist we have those markings on our wrist of all the awful places we've been to we kissed we've kissed the devil when we went to hell and back again so now that you have been informed that a poets heart is easily scorned knowing we feel deeply knowing we feel more more than we really should I've warned we don't just love a person when we fall we love their whole world we love it all and when we're hurt it is hard to trust and thus please. Be gentle with us.
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May 23, 2018
May 23, 2018 at 12:33 PM UTC
be gentle with us
yes, you can kiss my rose petal eyelids my stained cheeks my humming neck my willing waist my burning skin anywhere on my restless body but kiss my lips, and I'll spend the rest of my life aching grieving searching for your stinging tongue   fate assured me    we'd burn violently     but ultimately suns die      every flame grows tired       every bulb will break       every wick will drown        charred and regretful     weary and worn out    drained of energy   choking for air i'm not ready to ignite just yet
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Dec 31, 2017
Dec 31, 2017 at 8:02 AM UTC
safety precautions
Rain. A flood. Rain a flood that will carry me away. That it will drown my emotion that floods my soul. Drown me so that when I breathe it floods me. Hold me under. Submerge me. Engulf me. Gently. Like a shower. Feel it slowly glide down my body almost as if a tickle. A sensation. A seduction. A caress upon my skin. Then...when I am at ease...strike me. Strangle me. Like hands around my neck, take me in one full **** Take me under. Purge my soul. Then spill out of me. Violently. Forcefully. Cleanse me. Expel from my body. Let me breathe. ...air...
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Mar 8, 2015
Mar 8, 2015 at 11:41 PM UTC
Flood
Craggy rocks gasping silently Thrusting up small trees With fluttering leaves, And dust rising violently Studded with dry bugs
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Jul 11, 2015
Jul 11, 2015 at 1:05 PM UTC
The side of the road