Slip (an acrostic poem)

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Sliding down the road

Looking for traction among the glittering ice

Invoking different deities for divine intervention

Pounding to a stop in a snowbank ends the wild ride

Shape (an acrostic poem)

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So he was happy with being a circle

He liked that better than being a square

And he loved all the food pyramid equally

Perhaps he should have used the heart attack as a stop sign, but…

Eventually it caught up to him, and he was placed in a rectangle box

Spiral (an acrostic poem)

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Spinning around and around in tighter and tighter circles

Putting my equilibrium into the fetal position

I try to stop, but the world is now spinning up as I slow down

Reaching for the floor, I miss

And fall into some space that I didn’t know existed

Living now the pinwheel life

Crumbs (an acrostic poem)

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Can’t get a seat at the table?

Relegated to looking on, waiting for something to hit the floor?

Under foot and unnoticed?

Maybe this year is when you stand up and demand a seat.

Become a partner with those who should be your peers.

So stop settling for mere…

Float (an acrostic poem)

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Finding themselves adrift among the waves of emotion

Lifted by the manic highs then dropped into the depressed lows

Oblivious to what used to be normal and peacefully flat

As they bobbed along, unable to control their emotional path

That was when they contemplated letting go and sinking into eternal oblivion to make it stop

Normally I don’t post more after a poem, but I want everyone to be careful. Most of the time we can float through our lives and manage what storms are sent our way. For some, they are ready to let go. If you are one of those wondering if it is worth holding on, please first call the suicide prevention hotline: 800-273-8255. It is worth that one last chance to find an anchor.

Disgusting (an acrostic poem)

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Dominic looked at his fouled sneakers

It had started so simply that morning

Snuggling in his warm covers as the sunlight crept into the window

Getting up he put on his running gear and headed out to the trail

Under the red and orange leaves he began to jog

Soon his breath was ragged as he pushed himself harder and farther

That was when he felt that dreaded hard intestinal clenching

It made him stop and look around, but there were people everywhere

Now he tried to walk back, but about half way there he lost the battle

Giving the term “the runs” an added meaning

Ladder (an acrostic poem)

 

Leaving the ground behind one step at a time

As I climb higher and higher into the sky

Don’t look down though

Don’t ever look down.  That my knees will knock

Eventually, I stop and wonder how high I have gone

Realizing I was only three rungs up.

 

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