Sa Sa Ra
Sa Sa Ra
Oct 17, 2012

No matter the charge
Having your Miranda Rights
Read on the Gallows

Zach Spud Carter
Zach Spud Carter
Apr 6, 2013      Apr 9, 2013

And can you believe,
The horrible glee
With which his lips licked.
Dreaming-- carcass picked,

Reveling wholly.
Dismissing Holy
Enlightened beings,
Sinking in Needing.

Black black smack, alack!
I'm a crack-gack hack!
Or, mayhaps, I'm not?
Or, perhaps, just caught,

In nauseous verde waves
Of fanciful raves--
Rants all entertained--
I say makes me drained.

Baudelaire's half-baked,
Chatterton-- cracked
Morally, sorely
Standing half-poorly

But standing up still,
Avoiding the thrill
Of desert mirage,
It's poison barrage!

The Futility of Persecution
Harold Rizla
Harold Rizla
Oct 25, 2014

The Futility of Persecution


As you approach me
both guns drawn
Bullets full of hate and bile
I stand here naked
hands beside me
Armed with just
my inner smile

As you seek
to breech the sanctum
Leaving carnage
and calamity
I sit here safe behind
the glass that shields
my newfound equinamity

I never built these walls
you built them
with your twisted
bitter hand
It was you not I
that sought to cross
the line within the sand

As your projectiles
tear my body
Leaving gaping wounds behind
I stand here smiling
in the sunshine that's
the fortress of
my mind...


©HaroldRizla

Kurt Kanawa
Kurt Kanawa
Apr 29, 2014

spread my rips apart
like a treasure chest
circumsize my heart
and with water bless'd
baptize me to hell
{ never a heaven to sell }

"heretic!" (2/3)
All because she only knew one way persecution
Earl Van Dorn
Earl Van Dorn
6 days ago

The eagerness to begin romance and hope again
On into the best of a couples secrets kept
She and I wept of Americana remembrances
As lifelong fuckups we were quite adept

Said in common, a thousand tough bottoms
Whom had ever hit the hardest
We’d both been whipped, dipped in shit
An entitled, tidal wave was now bragging about our family's crest

We copied and pasted URL's about shipwrecked patrons
Scottish blacksmiths, Dutch gunslingers, and Indian brides
Oregon Trail blazers, Regulators, and White Pride
About smallpox, blue eyed slaves, the Indian Missions baptized

We fought each others skin colors tooth and nail [ have no colors ]
Held each other responsible for segregation
Argued for the wicked, dead, and callus
All because she only knew one way persecution

Even though she drug me down
I couldn’t push, pull my girl to Cow Town
To get her to dry out ground
She banged, shipwrecked, and bled to death

Now she sails on the soap flats
Going back two centuries for any detected spite
If she can find some racism or persecution
Then she has a soapstone for her fight [ soapstone is made by heat and pressure  go figure]

SoapStonewhere tectonic plates are subducted, changing rocks by heat and pressure, with influx of fluids, but without melting

A Scottish crest badge is a heraldic badge worn to show allegiance to an individual or membership in a specific Scottish clan.[1] Crest badges are commonly called clan crests, but this is a misnomer; there is no such thing as a collective clan crest, just as there is no such thing as a clan coat of arms.  Crest badges consist of a crest and a motto/slogan. These elements are heraldic property and protected by law in Scotland. Crest badges may be worn by anyone; however, those who are not entitled to the heraldic elements within, wear a crest badge surrounded by a strap and buckle. Those who own the heraldic elements within, may wear a crest badge surrounded by a plain circlet. The strap and buckle represents that the wearer is a follower of the individual who owns the crest and motto.
Paul M Chafer
Paul M Chafer
Oct 23, 2014

We build the best prisons for ourselves,
Knowing the truth, is a form of escape,
Until we see, our incarceration changed,
Still, knowing is the universal key,
The sure way to unlocking those doors.

We need to scale the walls of emotion,
Tunnel through our lack of self-belief,
Ignore mocking ignorance of others,
Who would trap us behind bars,
Willingly dump on us, on realising,
Our future looks better than theirs,
So sad, our persecutors, so very sad.

Remember, you can break out, yes,
Taste freedom, if you only try, yes,
Just be the best you can be, and rise,
Soar, be alive, and never, ever forget,
We build the best prisons for ourselves.

Inspired by the poem 'I'm my own prisoner' by Louise.

The cops took my weed!
Beautiful living creatures
Extinguished by extraction

This message made possible by
The bible-thumpers passion

A simple farmer, simple life
He's caused no one pain or strife
The victim absent, non-existent?
It matters not, just throw him in prison!

I've been qualified for persecution
Alexis Nicole Glover

Ribs of lions
Tempted and taunted
The sound of a thousand laughs echo
They cheer for my death
Having killed my brothers and sisters
In this very arena
Even before my time
Spit flies from they're tongues
Insulting my faith
I stand in the flames
Of the Colosseum
I've been qualified for persecution
This curse verified from second birth
It's irrelevant anyway
Glory of the ultimate Gladiator before
Insures my victory
If I die
Another will share the kill with my tombstone


-A.G

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