TedTest

From the Ted Talk by Andrea Gibson: "The Nutritionist"

Unscramble the Blue Letters

Hi I'm anerda Gibson and this is my poem "The Nutritionist." The nutritionist said I should eat root vegetables Said if I could get down 13 tpnuirs a day I would be grounded, rooted. Said my head would not keep flying away to where the darkness lives. The pisychc told me my heart criraes too much whgiet Said for 20 dollars she’d tell me what to do I handed her the twenty, she said “stop worrying darling, you will find a good man soon.” The first physioepshrtact said I should sepnd 3 hours a day sitting in a dark closet with my eyes closed and my ears plugged. I tried it once but couldn’t stop thinking about how gay it was to be sitting in the closet. The yogi told me to stretch everything but truth, said focus on the outbreaths, said everyone fnids hsnpaepis if they can care more about what they can give than what they get. The pharmacist said klonopin, lamictil, lithium, Xanax. The dtcoor said an antipsychotic might help me fergot what the trauma said The trauma said don’t wrtie this poem. Nobody wants to hear you cry about the grief inside your bones But my bones said “Tyler Clementi dove into the Hudson revir convinced he was entirely alone.” My bones said “write the poem.” To the ligmhlapt. Considering the river bed. To the chandelier of your fate hanging by a thread. To evearydy you could not get out of bed. To the bllus eye of your wsrit To anyone who has ever wanted to die. I have been told, sometimes, the most healing thing we can do- Is rimend ourselves over and over and over Other pleope feel this too The tomorrow that has come and gone And it has not gotten better When you are half fsneiihd writing that letter to your mother that says “I swear to God I tried” But when I thhogut I hit bottom, it started hitting back There is no bruise like the bruise loneliness kicks into your spine So let me tell you I know there are days it looks like the whole world is dancing in the streets when you break down like the doors of their looted buildings You are not alone and wenroding who will be convicted of the crime of iisninstg you keep loading your grief into the chamber of your shame You are not weak just because your heart feels so heavy I have never met a hveay heart that wasn’t a phone botoh with a red cape inside Some people will never utrdneansd the kind of speowpruer it takes for some people to just walk outside Some days I know my smile looks like the gutter of a flnialg house But my hands are always holding thgit to the ripchord of believing A life can be rich like the soil Make food of decay Turn wound into hhgwaiy Pick me up in a truck with that bumper sticker that says “it is no measure of good health to be well adjusted to a sick society” I have never trusted anyone with the pluled back bow of my spine the way I trust the ones who come undone at the throat Screaming for their pulse to find the fight to pound Four nights before Tyler clemtnei jumped from the gorege Washington bridge I was sitting in a hotel room in my own town Calculating exactly what I had to salwolw to keep a bottle of sleeping pills down What I know about lvinig is the pain is never just ours Every time I hurt I know the wound is an echo So I keep a listening for the moment when the giref becomes a window When I can see what I couldn’t see before, through the glass of my most battered dream, I watched a dandelion lose its mind in the wind and when it did, it scattered a thusnaod sedes. So the next time I tell you how easily I come out of my skin, don’t try to put me back in just say here we are together at the window aching for it to all get better but knowing there is a chance our hearts may have only just skinned their knees knowing there is a chance the worst day might still be coming let me say right now for the record, I’m still gonna be here asking this world to dance, even if it keeps snptiepg on my holy feet you- you stay here with me, okay? You stay here with me. Raising your bite against the bitter dark Your brghit longing Your brilliant ftsis of loss Friend if the only thing we have to gain in staying is each other, my god that’s plenty my god that’s enough my god that is so so much for the light to give each of us at each other’s backs whispering over and over and over “Live” “Live” “Live”

Open Cloze

Hi I'm ______ Gibson and this is my poem "The Nutritionist." The nutritionist said I should eat root vegetables Said if I could get down 13 _______ a day I would be grounded, rooted. Said my head would not keep flying away to where the darkness lives. The _______ told me my heart _______ too much ______ Said for 20 dollars she’d tell me what to do I handed her the twenty, she said “stop worrying darling, you will find a good man soon.” The first _______________ said I should _____ 3 hours a day sitting in a dark closet with my eyes closed and my ears plugged. I tried it once but couldn’t stop thinking about how gay it was to be sitting in the closet. The yogi told me to stretch everything but truth, said focus on the outbreaths, said everyone _____ _________ if they can care more about what they can give than what they get. The pharmacist said klonopin, lamictil, lithium, Xanax. The ______ said an antipsychotic might help me ______ what the trauma said The trauma said don’t _____ this poem. Nobody wants to hear you cry about the grief inside your bones But my bones said “Tyler Clementi dove into the Hudson _____ convinced he was entirely alone.” My bones said “write the poem.” To the _________. Considering the river bed. To the chandelier of your fate hanging by a thread. To ________ you could not get out of bed. To the _____ eye of your _____ To anyone who has ever wanted to die. I have been told, sometimes, the most healing thing we can do- Is ______ ourselves over and over and over Other ______ feel this too The tomorrow that has come and gone And it has not gotten better When you are half ________ writing that letter to your mother that says “I swear to God I tried” But when I _______ I hit bottom, it started hitting back There is no bruise like the bruise loneliness kicks into your spine So let me tell you I know there are days it looks like the whole world is dancing in the streets when you break down like the doors of their looted buildings You are not alone and _________ who will be convicted of the crime of _________ you keep loading your grief into the chamber of your shame You are not weak just because your heart feels so heavy I have never met a _____ heart that wasn’t a phone _____ with a red cape inside Some people will never __________ the kind of __________ it takes for some people to just walk outside Some days I know my smile looks like the gutter of a _______ house But my hands are always holding _____ to the ripchord of believing A life can be rich like the soil Make food of decay Turn wound into _______ Pick me up in a truck with that bumper sticker that says “it is no measure of good health to be well adjusted to a sick society” I have never trusted anyone with the ______ back bow of my spine the way I trust the ones who come undone at the throat Screaming for their pulse to find the fight to pound Four nights before Tyler ________ jumped from the ______ Washington bridge I was sitting in a hotel room in my own town Calculating exactly what I had to _______ to keep a bottle of sleeping pills down What I know about ______ is the pain is never just ours Every time I hurt I know the wound is an echo So I keep a listening for the moment when the _____ becomes a window When I can see what I couldn’t see before, through the glass of my most battered dream, I watched a dandelion lose its mind in the wind and when it did, it scattered a ________ _____. So the next time I tell you how easily I come out of my skin, don’t try to put me back in just say here we are together at the window aching for it to all get better but knowing there is a chance our hearts may have only just skinned their knees knowing there is a chance the worst day might still be coming let me say right now for the record, I’m still gonna be here asking this world to dance, even if it keeps ________ on my holy feet you- you stay here with me, okay? You stay here with me. Raising your bite against the bitter dark Your ______ longing Your brilliant _____ of loss Friend if the only thing we have to gain in staying is each other, my god that’s plenty my god that’s enough my god that is so so much for the light to give each of us at each other’s backs whispering over and over and over “Live” “Live” “Live”

Solution

wrist
grief
people
thousand
booth
psychic
weight
stepping
lamplight
superpower
happiness
write
wondering
understand
thought
living
pulled
highway
carries
remind
falling
psychotherapist
finds
forget
insisting
river
bulls
george
swallow
turnips
tight
clementi
doctor
seeds
fists
spend
finished
andrea
everyday
heavy
bright

Original Text

Hi I'm Andrea Gibson and this is my poem "The Nutritionist." The nutritionist said I should eat root vegetables Said if I could get down 13 turnips a day I would be grounded, rooted. Said my head would not keep flying away to where the darkness lives. The psychic told me my heart carries too much weight Said for 20 dollars she’d tell me what to do I handed her the twenty, she said “stop worrying darling, you will find a good man soon.” The first psychotherapist said I should spend 3 hours a day sitting in a dark closet with my eyes closed and my ears plugged. I tried it once but couldn’t stop thinking about how gay it was to be sitting in the closet. The yogi told me to stretch everything but truth, said focus on the outbreaths, said everyone finds happiness if they can care more about what they can give than what they get. The pharmacist said klonopin, lamictil, lithium, Xanax. The doctor said an antipsychotic might help me forget what the trauma said The trauma said don’t write this poem. Nobody wants to hear you cry about the grief inside your bones But my bones said “Tyler Clementi dove into the Hudson River convinced he was entirely alone.” My bones said “write the poem.” To the lamplight. Considering the river bed. To the chandelier of your fate hanging by a thread. To everyday you could not get out of bed. To the bulls eye of your wrist To anyone who has ever wanted to die. I have been told, sometimes, the most healing thing we can do- Is remind ourselves over and over and over Other people feel this too The tomorrow that has come and gone And it has not gotten better When you are half finished writing that letter to your mother that says “I swear to God I tried” But when I thought I hit bottom, it started hitting back There is no bruise like the bruise loneliness kicks into your spine So let me tell you I know there are days it looks like the whole world is dancing in the streets when you break down like the doors of their looted buildings You are not alone and wondering who will be convicted of the crime of insisting you keep loading your grief into the chamber of your shame You are not weak just because your heart feels so heavy I have never met a heavy heart that wasn’t a phone booth with a red cape inside Some people will never understand the kind of superpower it takes for some people to just walk outside Some days I know my smile looks like the gutter of a falling house But my hands are always holding tight to the ripchord of believing A life can be rich like the soil Make food of decay Turn wound into highway Pick me up in a truck with that bumper sticker that says “it is no measure of good health to be well adjusted to a sick society” I have never trusted anyone with the pulled back bow of my spine the way I trust the ones who come undone at the throat Screaming for their pulse to find the fight to pound Four nights before Tyler Clementi jumped from the George Washington bridge I was sitting in a hotel room in my own town Calculating exactly what I had to swallow to keep a bottle of sleeping pills down What I know about living is the pain is never just ours Every time I hurt I know the wound is an echo So I keep a listening for the moment when the grief becomes a window When I can see what I couldn’t see before, through the glass of my most battered dream, I watched a dandelion lose its mind in the wind and when it did, it scattered a thousand seeds. So the next time I tell you how easily I come out of my skin, don’t try to put me back in just say here we are together at the window aching for it to all get better but knowing there is a chance our hearts may have only just skinned their knees knowing there is a chance the worst day might still be coming let me say right now for the record, I’m still gonna be here asking this world to dance, even if it keeps stepping on my holy feet you- you stay here with me, okay? You stay here with me. Raising your bite against the bitter dark Your bright longing Your brilliant fists of loss Friend if the only thing we have to gain in staying is each other, my god that’s plenty my god that’s enough my god that is so so much for the light to give each of us at each other’s backs whispering over and over and over “Live” “Live” “Live”

Frequently Occurring Word Combinations

Important Words

aching
adjusted
andrea
antipsychotic
backs
battered
bed
believing
bite
bitter
bones
booth
bottle
bottom
bow
break
bridge
bright
brilliant
bruise
buildings
bulls
bumper
calculating
cape
care
carries
chamber
chance
chandelier
clementi
closed
closet
coming
convicted
convinced
crime
cry
dance
dancing
dandelion
dark
darkness
darling
day
days
decay
die
doctor
dollars
doors
dove
dream
ears
easily
eat
echo
everyday
eye
eyes
falling
fate
feel
feels
feet
fight
find
finds
finished
fists
flying
focus
food
forget
friend
gain
gay
george
gibson
give
glass
god
gonna
good
grief
grounded
gutter
handed
hands
hanging
happiness
head
healing
health
hear
heart
hearts
heavy
highway
hit
hitting
holding
holy
hotel
hours
house
hudson
hurt
insisting
jumped
kicks
kind
klonopin
knees
knowing
lamictil
lamplight
letter
life
light
listening
lithium
lives
living
loading
loneliness
longing
looted
lose
loss
man
measure
met
mind
moment
mother
nights
nutritionist
outbreaths
pain
people
pharmacist
phone
pick
pills
plenty
plugged
poem
pound
psychic
psychotherapist
pulled
pulse
put
raising
record
red
remind
rich
ripchord
river
room
root
rooted
scattered
screaming
seeds
shame
sick
sitting
skin
skinned
sleeping
smile
soil
spend
spine
started
stay
staying
stepping
sticker
stop
streets
stretch
superpower
swallow
swear
takes
thinking
thought
thousand
thread
throat
tight
time
told
tomorrow
town
trauma
truck
trust
trusted
truth
turn
turnips
twenty
tyler
understand
undone
vegetables
walk
wanted
washington
watched
weak
weight
whispering
wind
window
wondering
world
worrying
worst
wound
wrist
write
writing
xanax
yogi