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U857736
40/F/canada Canadian armed forces veteran
Head smacked With an abrupt thwack. Nose aggressively shoved in the corner; Followed by the crazed rant Of an old school rhymer; Unaware their current act....chant.... in the Future be court docket tabled.... Labled... And designated a "child abuse" crime: Breaking news at prime time "How dare you speak to me? Didn't your mother... Or father teach you proper manners? Look here, look listen! Directly into my eyes see! So... I may know you understand clearly. Little girls (and boys) are to be 'seen and not heard.' You disrespectful **** " thwackity thwack" A hard double hit reverberates   (Emotionally terminates) As a forceful chalked blue Cue Smacks... Cracks... The backside of the child's red Pigtailed Head (Thrusting it forward in an eight ball call shot Designated for the left corner wall slot). Nose banking the wall with a hard ****** Dripping blood (In full crimson flood), Invading her mouth with copper waste (Mixed in with the salty taste Of tears falling in silent haste). Destined to dry with a tinge of rust and crust. Followed by a loss of parental guidance trust. Daring not a single peep-- In weep. The child covers her bloodied mouth (With trembling hands)-- Muffling emotional cries at an alarming rate-- (In a fearful state), Dreading a forced follow foul stroke: That a single sound could provoke. Contemplating her prelection: In extreme sudation. She wondered why her mother.... Father.. Encouraged her ranting chatter And told her that all questions matter? Didn't they know that bubbly banter... Chatter... Would cause her Disciplinary stature (Possible nose fracture) And a guaranteed position in the corner (Under the care of an old timing Rhyming.... Bitter.... Head splitting Sitter)? Marie Moldovan ©️ 2021
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Jan 3, 2021
Jan 3, 2021 at 4:49 PM UTC
"Left corner wall slot"
Head smacked With an abrupt thwack. Nose aggressively shoved in the corner; Followed by the crazed rant Of an old school rhymer; Unaware their current act....chant.... in the Future be court docket tabled.... Labled... And designated a "child abuse" crime: Breaking news at prime time "How dare you speak to me? Didn't your mother... Or father teach you proper manners? Look here, look listen! Directly into my eyes see! So... I may know you understand clearly. Little girls (and boys) are to be 'seen and not heard.' You disrespectful **** " thwackity thwack" A hard double hit reverberates   (Emotionally terminates) As a forceful chalked blue Cue Smacks... Cracks... The backside of the child's red Pigtailed Head (Thrusting it forward in an eight ball call shot Designated for the left corner wall slot). Nose banking the wall with a hard ****** Dripping blood (In full crimson flood), Invading her mouth with copper waste (Mixed in with the salty taste Of tears falling in silent haste). Destined to dry with a tinge of rust and crust. Followed by a loss of parental guidance trust. Daring not a single peep-- In weep. The child covers her bloodied mouth (With trembling hands)-- Muffling emotional cries at an alarming rate-- (In a fearful state), Dreading a forced follow foul stroke: That a single sound could provoke. Contemplating her prelection: In extreme sudation. She wondered why her mother.... Father.. Encouraged her ranting chatter And told her that all questions matter? Didn't they know that bubbly banter... Chatter... Would cause her Disciplinary stature (Possible nose fracture) And a guaranteed position in the corner (Under the care of an old timing Rhyming.... Bitter.... Head splitting Sitter)? Marie Moldovan ©️ 2021
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63
Born in a manner once thought a curse, Cord around neck nearly needing a hearse. Last breath whistled a song to universe, Ripping a contract from devils’ purse, Marking agreement null and void, In reverse. Travelling through the multiverse, Bending space and time. Keys dispersed, Cord is cut, child slapped by nurse - Eyes Bloodshot, mouth blue and pasty- screams Burst. On mother’s chest child lay alert, In the corner a darkness lurk. An old soul born into a world beguiled, Human compassion filed, A strange and curious observer child. An ascension virus in disguise, Tasked to sort the truth and lies, With thyne own eyes. After hearing earthly cries, Child dove into the hell trove, from the highest skies, To rescue humans from demise. Child dove from highest skies To unlock the prism prison hidden in Mind’s eye, Mission wrought with torrential sacrifice. Knowledge at a price, The once knowing, now broken and Confused, Societal programming causing innocent To be abused, Delusion fused, Internal knowing roused. The ancient one lead to break, Scattering that which is fake, 2 souls of a single mind at stake, Neutrality both must fate, A DNA bridge is a make, For humanity to wake. --Marie Moldovan ©️ 2020
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Jan 1, 2021
Jan 1, 2021 at 11:19 AM UTC
Cursed
"Are you sure, my QUEEN, that you want to leave your throne? Enter the prism of your mother's womb; Raise your familial ghosts from their tomb; Absorb their burden, make it your blood; Risk Drowning in the waters of their emotional flood; And incarnate as fragile flesh and bone. Are you sure that is truly what you want, my QUEEN? You will be wrapped in many layers of confusion.... Discombobulating illusion. Your family will deny that which you speak, To the point you begin to think You do not know That which you know; They will poison you with the venom of condition; Wrap you in a web of perdition; Place upon you a veil as if it a mink; And confine you to a future outlook that is bleak. They will attempt to bring you to their level; Break you to release your inner devil; Pierce your armored mettle; So with them you will settle; And remain in the torture temple. They will attempt to take you out by your knees; Split your psyche in six degrees; Cause you pain so overwhelmingly monstrous, That your soul will twists in relentless... Disastrous.... Chaos; And disregard in disdain your mercy pleas, As they do what they please. You will engage in internal battle; Cast upon yourself a dark night of your soul, Where for yourself you be neither friend nor foe; But instead consume yourself as if you are a jackal Devouring a herd of cattle. Are you sure you want to enter the prism of your mother's womb; Live within the confines of your mother's ancestral house; Where you will be sold as a slave to a man addressed as spouse; And be considered to have value less than that of a mouse? Are you sure you want to do this and risk losing yourself?" Having heard enough of the gatekeeper's incessant rant; The queen rose up from her throne, walked up to mirror; Confidently adjusted it's unappealing slant As if she nothing to fear; Glanced her reflection dead in the eye; And spoke in a tone the gatekeeper could not deny. "Step aside gatekeeper, You are merely my own reflection Playing a recording from my fear collection, Meant to cause me anxiety in distraction And keep me in my place. My mother's prism Is no different than the mind prison I currently face. It is not of my benefit to participate in denials race. I cannot avoid that which made me. I cannot avoid being like she; For she is within me as me; and so is everything in the projection I see. There is no one to fear but me, For I am the only monster that can annihilate that which I be. To truly heal my spirit I must allow myself to see the wound of my fragile bone, Under the roof of my ancestral home, So I may within myself alter it's tortured tone From one of a fleeing, to one of a freeing lyric. If I do not risk losing myself, to save myself, Then I have already lost myself. Now step aside gatekeeper and let me cross the gate, Before it is to late. Let me cross the gate before self-annihilation be my fate." --Marie Moldovan  ©️ 2020
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Dec 30, 2020
Dec 30, 2020 at 11:11 PM UTC
Step Aside Gatekeeper
"Are you sure, my QUEEN, that you want to leave your throne? Enter the prism of your mother's womb; Raise your familial ghosts from their tomb; Absorb their burden, make it your blood; Risk Drowning in the waters of their emotional flood; And incarnate as fragile flesh and bone. Are you sure that is truly what you want, my QUEEN? You will be wrapped in many layers of confusion.... Discombobulating illusion. Your family will deny that which you speak, To the point you begin to think You do not know That which you know; They will poison you with the venom of condition; Wrap you in a web of perdition; Place upon you a veil as if it a mink; And confine you to a future outlook that is bleak. They will attempt to bring you to their level; Break you to release your inner devil; Pierce your armored mettle; So with them you will settle; And remain in the torture temple. They will attempt to take you out by your knees; Split your psyche in six degrees; Cause you pain so overwhelmingly monstrous, That your soul will twists in relentless... Disastrous.... Chaos; And disregard in disdain your mercy pleas, As they do what they please. You will engage in internal battle; Cast upon yourself a dark night of your soul, Where for yourself you be neither friend nor foe; But instead consume yourself as if you are a jackal Devouring a herd of cattle. Are you sure you want to enter the prism of your mother's womb; Live within the confines of your mother's ancestral house; Where you will be sold as a slave to a man addressed as spouse; And be considered to have value less than that of a mouse? Are you sure you want to do this and risk losing yourself?" Having heard enough of the gatekeeper's incessant rant; The queen rose up from her throne, walked up to mirror; Confidently adjusted it's unappealing slant As if she nothing to fear; Glanced her reflection dead in the eye; And spoke in a tone the gatekeeper could not deny. "Step aside gatekeeper, You are merely my own reflection Playing a recording from my fear collection, Meant to cause me anxiety in distraction And keep me in my place. My mother's prism Is no different than the mind prison I currently face. It is not of my benefit to participate in denials race. I cannot avoid that which made me. I cannot avoid being like she; For she is within me as me; and so is everything in the projection I see. There is no one to fear but me, For I am the only monster that can annihilate that which I be. To truly heal my spirit I must allow myself to see the wound of my fragile bone, Under the roof of my ancestral home, So I may within myself alter it's tortured tone From one of a fleeing, to one of a freeing lyric. If I do not risk losing myself, to save myself, Then I have already lost myself. Now step aside gatekeeper and let me cross the gate, Before it is to late. Let me cross the gate before self-annihilation be my fate." --Marie Moldovan  ©️ 2020
Continue reading...
72
Emotion bottled and shaken to the point of explosion, Risking a state of total destruction With the simple rising of a raging white cap, Twisted by the stormy hands of inner turmoil. Slapping waves of reaction Against mountains of addictive distraction, Causing one an internal Mexican standoff, Presenting a decision, diamond in the rough: Raise the white flag of resistance. Offer yourself some relief assistance, Breathing in a meditative manner, Setting a slow releasing standard, Steadily releasing emotional pressure In a controlled state of measure; Or Find yourself dead on the floor, Having exploded in an internal combustive roar, Because you fought to hold in the building Pressure. Attempted cognitive deconstruction, Neglected yourself thriving construction, Fearing your own atomic reaction to the explosive emotional canter. Either choice resulting in emotional disruption... Eruption, But only one in total annihilation. -Marie Moldovan ©️ 2020
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Dec 30, 2020
Dec 30, 2020 at 1:04 AM UTC
"Mexican Standoff "
The Umbilical cord is cut upon .... first breath. Separating us from mother; Pushing us to thrive in a manner outside... Maternal internal cannibalistic vampirism. Circumcised upon ****** classification. Separating us from father; Peeling away the skin, Exposing the core of the apple. Hair is pruned. Separating us from the psyche; Leaving us in the dark, Like a shadow without a heart. Held up by our foot. Strung like a pretzel; Smacked by the tune of historical blood, Claiming degrees of separation. We deny... We are        (Mother and Father...         God and Devil....         Creator, Perpetrator,         Anti-Violator and Master Manipulator.)   Adam, Eve, Snake and Apple. --Marie Moldovan ©️ 2020
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Dec 30, 2020
Dec 30, 2020 at 1:00 AM UTC
Divine Dissociation