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10.0k · Feb 2017
Foreign Perception of America
Scott Hamsun Feb 2017
Grab your pitchforks run him outta town,
only because his skin is brown.
If he knocks on the door don't let him in,
only because he lacks white skin.
Punch his face with a bang and a whack
only because his skin is black.
Pull out your gun shoot him in the head,
only because he grows his dreads.
Lock him in jail for nothing bad,
call him a loser and a deadbeat dad.

If you don't think you've gone too far,
you're wrong, your soul's as black as coal tar.
8.9k · Jan 2017
Michael Louviere
Scott Hamsun Jan 2017
Michael Louviere was a man of the people,
Who held in his hand a book of the law,
And outside his belt a gun for his safety,
But never would he have used it for ******,
I'm told he helped many but never killed any,
But Sylvester Holt did not believe it,
He said the actions of one create a whole guilty people,
And he took the matters into his own  hands,
And killed poor young Michael for serving his people.


So I'm sorry young man, you been born with white skin,
In a world with the permissions to ****** and to maim,
But just to have freedom depends on your name,
But if you think its good I suppose ill let you,
Work for a cause that is just out to get you,
And keeping in line with the others before him,
Sylvester took the bait and the hook nearly gored him,
But the worm could've lived it was just his misfortune.


Sylvester laid down with a bullet in his chest,
And the gun in his hand had a burning hot barrel,
He assumed death was better than life and life only,
But in his last second he pulled out a small knife,
And cut in his gun small violent furrow,
It was then that he realized this all wasn't worth it,
He saw those two notches and handed himself in,
To a lifetime of no pain and and unwoken rest.
1.3k · Feb 2017
Corn Daze In a Radish Maze
Scott Hamsun Feb 2017
I was walking along the brook,
landed in one of them corn mazes from the books.
I started running,
started funning,
'till I gone and ran into a corn stalk,
I hit it so hard I forgot how to talk,
I could barely walk.
It don't matter,
just started going faster.
Well I found my way to the end,
but across the field I saw a radish bend.
Ah well, I guess its the weekend,
and Id rather run the radishes than come to an end.
And I ran,
oh yes I ran.
I ran here,
I ran there,
in the sky,
nearly trampled a guy...

Yeah he was yellin',
at me,
I said whats up.
And then he says this, he says:
I own these here radishes,
Go on ***, get outta mah FaRm.
Then, I dunno, I guess I was just really cool,
I was able to convince him, that this here, was my farm.
And that's the story of my farm.
1.1k · Feb 2017
Rosemary
Scott Hamsun Feb 2017
All my herbs have lost their taste,
and all my spices are now sand.
My rosemary is still fresh.
I've always hated rosemary,
it tastes like garbage.
So the question is... do I put it on my meal?
Is it better to have a blandness in my food,
leaving me unsatisfied?
Or put on the grossly distinguishable flavor of rosemary,
to add variety, for the sake of difference?
1.1k · Dec 2016
Home
Scott Hamsun Dec 2016
Well it seems that one million miles from my home
where the water is clear and the valleys are gold
And the land that is really home to me
is all the way across the sea

I hold in my hand my soul and my fate
I try to use gold when lead would be great
I can tell even though I cannot see
The land that I care for is full of beauty

The old me is gone and I miss his laugh
But he's captive now in a photograph
And the many great things I could have seen here
have vanished with time and gone with the years

Ive looked through the sky and fallen like rain
the place that I landed was never explained
the mobile I was given from a drunken clown
painted my smile just like his cold frown

for how far I've traveled Im in the same place
sometimes I doubt life isn't a race
and even with all the trips round the sun
time can **** pain just as good as a gun
1.1k · Jan 2017
We can Never Love
Scott Hamsun Jan 2017
Eros and Aphrodite, Is dancing
Eros and Aphrodite, Is spending time
Eros and Aphrodite, Is noble and clean
Eros and Aphrodite, Is romancing
Eros and Aphrodite, Is hearing bells chime
But Eros and Aphrodite, Are in their Dreams
1.1k · Jan 2017
Why do we Keep Pets?
Scott Hamsun Jan 2017
We love having pets because they are helpless enough to know us as masters,
But we are frightened because we know they can slip away and become their own masters,
Oh the treachery of power,
The deceit of glory,
For I know,
And even you know,
Deep down,
That to contain the energy of a small animal makes you no master,
It grants no power,
The real power lies in the ability to release something that can destroy you,
And to conquer the thing that has the capacity to devour you.
927 · Jan 2017
Athena
Scott Hamsun Jan 2017
Athena takes my hand,
And removes me from my village,
And the sky has opened wide,
For the gaze of love to find us,
And when she took me to her house,
I knew that it was pleasant,
She said, here you go, Ive taken,
All the things that made you certain,
And she gave her misfortune ,
To drain the group of rich men,
From their army camp of freedom,
And she took it all in one stride,
Yes, Athena lit a fire,
And shes woven a fine blanket,
And filled it with a child,
That she took away from heaven,
The crystal ball is glowing,
Even though it has stopped knowing,
and it tells of the secrets that we've kept beneath our candor,
forevermore...
898 · Jan 2017
Hate Speech
Scott Hamsun Jan 2017
Hate speech,
Exists to teach,
That to disagree is to hate,
But with no constitutional breach,
It can silence free speech and debate.

If you don't like me I apologize,
But that does not mean I'm unwise,
It does not mean I hate you,
But I will not stop just to give you wide eyes,
Hate speech just isn't true.
895 · Jan 2017
The Dust of Empathy
Scott Hamsun Jan 2017
This is a story from very long ago,
I suppose some might remember it from their own reminiscing,
but I learned it from my Pa.
It goes like this.

There was a man named Anthony,
he was married to a younger woman,
Sophia.
The two had tied the knot one year prior,
In 1931.
Anthony knew not to fully trust Sophia,
(although he himself was not a man of great moral character)
because she was never loyal to a soul.
It was systematic,
even if she loved who she was with,
even if she had everything to gain,
she found a way to justify infidelity.
Anthony did not know about all her scandals,
just enough of them to keep his eyes peeled.

The two of them had owned a tobacco farm,
In the middle of Oklahoma,
I do suppose it was Anthony's in reality,
But I would guess if a couple shares a bed,
and a home,
and their money,
the farm is also in joint custody.

This was not just a farm,
It was the heart of the town,
pumping out a vital product in all directions,
It was the only thriving business around,
I suppose because it feeds an addiction,
it was a tough time,
even from farmers,
but dust does not hurt Tobacco plants.

The time came around however,
when a successful business owner came to town.
He was asking what was making the money in this village,
Anthony and Sophia's hands were always raised,
in preparation for this question,
they had enough pride to fit twice inside of a musician.
The man asked to buy their property,
along with the plantation and all the workers.
the money offered was somewhere between,
one hundred and fifty thousand,
and,
three hundred thousand,
the exact number has been lost with age.
Whatever the case, It impressed the couple,
who proceeded to sell,
and buy a small house in the town.

What hasn't been told to you is that Anthony's father was gravely ill,
Anthony promised if he ever ran into money,
he would pay for better care for his beloved father.
When Anthony Remembered this promise, he wrote his father.
Sophia, did not like this,
the fortune was theirs, and not for some sick man,
with only half the life,
(if he got better)
that they had.

Even with her tricky seductive ways,
she could not convince him to keep the money,
Anthony wanted to give the whole of their new fortune to his father.
Anthony saw the rage of the devil in her eyes,
and every day she blocked him,
the monster within her had come alive,
roaring with anger, and retaliation to nobility,
which caused his inner beast to stir.
It never awoke,
but turned his empathy to dust.

They always tell of how small the sum of money Anthony sent was,
but maybe its more important to count what he did not send,
whatever the case was, his father could do nothing with it,
it was not enough to pay for better care,
just more of his original care.

Anthony and Sophia,
dressed in the most stylish clothes,
and wearing the most elegant jewelry,
soon went to visit his Anthony's parents,
when they walked in,
there were typical greetings,
just what you would expect from semi-estranged family members.

When however,
Anthony's mother took a hard look at the two of them,
she cried, and hit them,
cursing them for wasting their money and lying,
(for Anthony told his parents he didn't have enough money,
and that he gave what he had to his father.)

She told them to begone,
and that they could not have cared,
because they could not be bothered to give any more money,
Anthony left the house and Sophia trailed behind him.

On their way back to where they parked the ford,
Anthony and Sophia were struck down by a car.
they were killed instantly,
and the police came to claim their bodies.

That was the plight of a young couple not many people know of anymore,
Why it ever became famous I don't even know,
perhaps it was the despicability of Sophia,
or the unknowing victimization of Anthony,
but it holds an important lesson,
and I'm glad to have told you about it.
875 · Jan 2017
Sonnet 01
Scott Hamsun Jan 2017
My statement is only that you respect
those Gypsies that gave you comfort,
because God only knows what a silly wreck
this has been, to allow them to deport.
Where was justice back yesterday?
Why did you not move or act?
Was it because you had not any dismay,
or because you don't know the facts?
How ***** nilly can a person be
before they are abandoned completely
and left alone to become a dream,
but remain, in a pretend treaty.
     by reality, (bye intellect) and by themselves?
     It doesn't really matter they always seem to sell.
844 · Jan 2017
Do you Understand Darkness?
Scott Hamsun Jan 2017
You have always wondered what darkness is,
You have always hoped to see it,
You even asked me to show you,
But I know if I gave you the gift of darkness,
(For I indeed Know darkness)
You would burn it,
And say,
"That is not darkness...See how much light it has made"
826 · Mar 2017
Lover and Lover
Scott Hamsun Mar 2017
Lover and lover,
Going to sleep.
Both dreamed of peace,
One dream achieved it.
One counted time,
The other drowned in lemon juice.
One dream found war,
The other built castles.
Both woke up,
Neither knew.

Lover and lover,
Going to travel,
Both went to Antioch,
Neither were happy.
One dreamed of Spain,
The other of lilacs.
One dreamed of ******,
The other of balloons.
One traveled lightly,
The other was untended.
One saw paradise,
The other lost their eyes.
But still neither saw.

Lover and lover,
daydreaming,
One longed for poetry,
The other for seduction.
One desired reverie,
The other was solely cavalier.
One dreamed of excusing themselves from the booth,
The other welcomed the operating table.
The surgery never happened.

Lover and lover,
Laying down for rest.
One thinks of killing Stalin,
The other calls from a phone booth to warn him.
One takes a trip through the minds of the gods,
The other hikes the Appalachian.
One desires to **** all evil,
The other wishes to turn it into goodness.
One saw carnivals,
The other saw forests.
One saw dirt,
The other greeted a Frenchman.
One made tea for the poor,
The other recorded a folk album.
One planted a flower in a shoe,
The other visited Greece.
One visited a watchmaker,
The other cast lots for clothes.
One put out a cigarette on the ground,
The other buys sunglasses on the street.
One sailed into Norway,
The other read from the bible.
Lover and lover: Alone in a cage.
810 · Mar 2017
For Marine Le Pen
Scott Hamsun Mar 2017
Things are changing fast, just as they should,
They've changed for the worse, now let's change for the good.

The national pride has dwindled and died,
Call us whatever you want, we have God on our side.

Please do not fear what tomorrow might bring,
This extends further than a political wing.

I'd like to give The EU a personal thanks,
You've shown what a cancer man can create.

Were turning our backs and we're done with your games,
If the countries collapse, we know you are to blame.

So thank you La Pen, You care for your land.
We'll show those ******* where to stick their grand plan.
"Paris doesn't look like Paris anymore"
Vote Le Pen!
763 · Feb 2017
The Coyote
Scott Hamsun Feb 2017
If we were all such clowns we would actually understand,
that when fear is suppressed and called hate, is when war is disposed of.
Oh how ignorant of you to blame the Coyote,
who gave you life, and brought all opportunities to you.
The hierarchy should be based on trust... this is something that the Coyote knows.
I think you know.
As you scream in the wilderness, all profanities man has known.
Dare I say you care too much.(?)
About not caring?        perhaps?
It is just so strong, how could it possibly be hate alone?
no root of any tree, (evil or good,) can grow so deep alone.
Yet your hate sits there solitary in your mind.
And you...you don't mind
The Coyote takes criticism to heart,
but it means nothing. he simply uses it against you.
Of course he would rather be a wolf, but what good is it to remind him of his big ears and short tail.
Especially when you lack any emotional balance.
He might seem weak,
but we can all ride on the Coyotes back.
Scott Hamsun Apr 2017
Wouldn't it be nice
To learn to take care of fish,
Just to help them out?
741 · Mar 2017
John Thompson
Scott Hamsun Mar 2017
Here lies John Thompson,
Dead from a plane,
That flew from Spain,
It was part of the Icelandic game,
To teach kids about the brain,
And how easy it can feel pain,
The program proved pretty lame,
No ones to blame,
For Johns leftover stain,
But it was in vain,
The kids wanted trains,
The kids are still ignorant.
R.I.P.
722 · Feb 2017
This is Not a Poem
Scott Hamsun Feb 2017
This is no poem,
(Because a poem must be written by a Poet.)
I don't have to tell you that,
You can see it quite clearly,
What I write is ugly,
If my words were alive they would be real trolls,
I don't know...At  least I know what I'm talking about,
That's more than I can say for most of you self proclaimed "poets."
And by the way, who said you could call yourselves that?
Scott Hamsun Feb 2017
I always carry in my pocket a string.
And tied to that string there is a watch,
I like to dangle it above the Funny little creature named sorrow.

Around my neck I keep a chain,
with little picture of family on it.
And I use it to mess with that little gremlin called hate.

I carry also just a small picture,
of some lady I'll never know.
I fold it into an airplane and let that wily lust chase it.

I carry a harmonica in my jacket,
even though I am not skilled.
And use it to SCREECH at that savage beast known as my aspirations.

Pinned to my shirt,
I carry a pin from HRC.
And poke that slithering thing called honesty.

Taped to my boot,
I carry a miniature tombstone.
And let the amphibian called friendship chew on it.

And In another pocket,
I have a flashlight.
And I always shine it right in the eyes of that squirming thing called fear.

I also to carry a Quran,
And use it quite consistently,
to silence love, and teach true hate.

Finally in my back pocket,
I have a the communist manifesto,
And I beat Trust and freedom to near death.
667 · Jan 2017
Sailing Through the Mind
Scott Hamsun Jan 2017
This small ocean side where we'd run play and hide is slowly becoming alone.
I wish I could go back and see all my friends the sailboats are calling me home.

Ive cherished the hours my tree skin and flowers,
the worldwide stage show makes me whole,
never did I think Id leave all the lights on under the sun-shining nights.

On a cold springtime night keeping eyes on the sight,
the bridge has been lit up again,
I stood in my tower for more than an hour ,
with a friend who would soon leave my side.

The cold winter nights and the hot Christmas lights,
The bugs that fly through the air.
the pallet is made with the games we had played on that frozen lake on the saddest days of the new year.

The leaves started falling and fish started flying ,
I always remember that day,
the corn maze is new and the pumpkins are strewn,
and there in the leaves I could stay.
656 · Mar 2017
Treasure Map Page 1
Scott Hamsun Mar 2017
If you are reading this you've already found the red house.  Now the instructions I am about to give you will not always be clear, and my reasoning may not be sound to your feeble mind, but this is for you, this is what you wanted.

Go out the back door, to your left there will be a gilded compass, take it, and do not let go of it, but whatever you do don't follow it, and if it tries to speak to you, never respond.  To the East you will see the distant fjords and perhaps some stars above it. (Do not look to long at the stars or they may come and sweep you away, as they do not applaud staring eyes.) Don't bother looking to the East. And never look south it will only bring upon you the temptation to go back.

Go now. Walk North into the forest. Many people enter this forest, few come out, but then again, few have me to guide them.  Do not feel a lack of companionship the flowers can speak and you are free to talk with them, just don't speak to the morning glories. Follow the path, past the hollow trees where fairies build homes, across the inexplicably well maintained bridges over streams. Until you reach a small tree, so twisted and contorted it seems it cannot be real, but it is. Look for the next page there.
652 · Mar 2017
Under the Water
Scott Hamsun Mar 2017
I look up from the bottom of the lake
To see the stars painted onto the underside of the ice.
Like a canvas, flawlessly decorated by God,
But still a prison.
636 · Mar 2017
For a Girl
Scott Hamsun Mar 2017
I found you in the summer,
Your button nose charm enticed me
To learn to love you, and know you,
Thin as a twig, you entered my life,
But you were filled with so much.
Such a gentle soul.
Such enormous energy.
Long and flowing brown hair, shining in the sun,
With eyes to match it.
You just have a way
of making me feel grateful.
Found this in my notebook... not sure who I wrote it about... It seems to describe Joni Mitchell a little...Perhaps her(?)
632 · Feb 2017
Life on the Moon(?)
Scott Hamsun Feb 2017
How warm is the moon?
Can it sustain life?
It's like a natural balloon,
so be careful with your knife.
He's a funny little guy, that man up there.
I feel very bad some days, he seems lonesome.
At one point I was told he had a rabbit or a bear,
But it seems that they can't even fix his glum.
I don't know what to tell him,
I don't even know if I can,
But if I find a way to reach the rim,
I think I'd tell, him we'd all want that land.
611 · Feb 2017
Taxes
Scott Hamsun Feb 2017
I woke up in the morning, My cat was reading Twain,
I tugged his tail so hard, It yanked his little brain.

My Father walks down the stairs yelling "revolution on the rise."
And I know he really meant it, I could see it in his eyes.

I said: "whoa whoa pops what's up with you? You're actin' slightly mad,"
He said: "well son, here we go I'll tell whats got me sad.

Yesterday the mail came and I saw a ***** word,
It said, taxes are coming soon, You'd better hire a new nerd.

So I walked down to the town hall with this witchcraft in my fist,
they said well sir you gotta wait in line, and then marked me on a blacklist.

So I got on a bus back home, for to find a new kazoo,
and then an animal walked on and said 'son wanna hold my shoe?'

I said no way man you got a filthy disease,
You look like a racoon and you smell like rotten cheese.

Then It said hold me to sooth me ease the pain of life
And I guess I did, next thing I knew it was the end of Saturday night.

I said oh no my taxes are due I gotta find a nerd,
I saw one eating spaghetti with the cat and a purple bird.

I walked over stylishly and then in one swoop I stole the nerd,
then I kissed the cat, broke my back and ate that little bird.

Yes I loaded up my harpoon, with a fistful of grapes,
And I got ready to fire for to make my great escape.

I shoot them at my enemies, and let them pop in their face,
Then mama came, took my '**** and put me in my place.

Yelling: 'Oh Joy, Oh Joy I found my car, now lets go take the bus',
I said Lets go my dear, Its time for us to float like living dust.

Then the Medicine man Comes in with a skull on his cane.
Then he Hits mama so hard she began to go insane.

It was just then we got home so I left her on the bus,
Next time I'll just take the train, at least its color ain't like pus."
606 · Jan 2017
My Philosophy of love
Scott Hamsun Jan 2017
Few of us have ever really fallen in love,
But we all claim to have loved,
Its because we are so in love with the idea of falling in love,
That we forget it is a once in a lifetime gift from above.
Scott Hamsun May 2017
Jeg kan høre det milde havskummet,
Det berører bakken så nær hjemmet sitt.
Skjønnhet vevd i sitt rustne gylne hår,
Jeg har ikke kjent henne lenge, men *** lar meg gå på lufta.
Det er noe *** har, en slags nåde,
Det skinner som en gemstone gjennom ansiktet hennes.
Hennes øyne kan være gjennomsnittlig på noen andre,
Men i hennes ser jeg himmelen, et hjerte smelter meg.
*** har barnslig lurer og jeg elsker det så,
Og *** gir av det mest lunefullt lys.
Selv når vi står på den kalde betongen,
Jeg kan se blomster spring opp rundt føttene hennes.
Jeg tror jeg elsker henne, ja, det gjør jeg!
Nei jeg gjør det ikke, det kan ikke være sant.

-Det tynne barnet bak deg.
Scott Hamsun Jan 2017
You will not long be remembered,
Not with the perspective you gave me.
But what you have done will forever affect history.

You've left the wire,
Like a man, fighting a fire,
I'm just glad,
That you got to be free.
591 · Jan 2017
Impact
Scott Hamsun Jan 2017
It crashed to the ground,
So hard it shook the planet,
It was heard around the world,
Cracked the earth and all its granite,
Which made a louder sound,
And The Jörmungandr curled.
A
B
C
B
A
C
584 · Jan 2017
LIbEral
Scott Hamsun Jan 2017
For some reason it seems that the people who most often attack racism, intolerance and bigotry, always embody those exact words.
584 · Jan 2018
Cogeshall House
Scott Hamsun Jan 2018
I dream once again of pastures gold.
Of midnight jesters, and pleasures old.
I remember the scent of the forest,
The Moss and the snow.
(Did I know?)
With sober certainty of waking bliss,
I look upon Willows red and chestnuts green.
Will I wake one day to find my body aching?
The thought never occurred.
So I continued.
And stood passive to see
corporate Christmas lights-
bridge lights at One AM.
(Og missikken stopper)
Hiking through ruins and fairy tale cedars
to roadside gas stations and gone under theaters.
Under the shadow of the hills at dusk.

The scent of coffee fresh to sell
drifts past us on our way
to fast food parking lots beside midnight hotels.
Music and roses late at night.
The sun beating down and blinding,
Once winter has broken free from the bonds of Christmas.

But I fret, I age and I fret.
(Will I do something that I regret?)
And how will I spend my time?
Imitating an aging cat?
I would rather watch the cars at night by the water,
music paused
than drive myself.
I've considered my ways and turned my feet.
I will remember my song in the night;
I will meditate with my heart.
And why? Out of all I did, why did I never have the mind to ask:
“When all is done what will I say?
Will I regret a single day?”
And what did I think when I said:
“I have time to hesitate,
to make my plans but decide to wait.”
To count every grain of sand and call it de rigeur
To give up early and call it a tie.
to turn off the light but not know why.
I should have been born a floating balloon.
I should have dragged myself through the trees.
And I watched my life.
I revised my dreams
to fit reality.
And was it worth it?
May I reverse the clock?
And did I spend too much time tending the lawn,
And not appreciate the grazing fawn?
(Og missikken stopper)
I find now that I bore my own hell.
And I only vaguely recall
the trips I took, yes, I forget!
(or regret?)
And what motions did I follow?
Shall I give up? Am I defeated?
(When did my hair get so thin?)
Now I've grown weary with my moaning
and the cycle will soon burn out.
Shall I give up what I began?
I must be defeated.
No.
I shall remember not the former things, nor consider things of old.
I shall walk along the pier as the water grows cold.
But Again I hug the shore and allow others to brave the deep.
(Og missikken er over)
And I look back
at many summers many false love
Nothing else causes such pain.
And perhaps a few were true.
But that, I refuse to accept.

But most importantly I remember
the sisters of grace.
Who tended to me so kindly
So I walked with caution. For I had the map.
But I fell, I fell.
I said:
“I shall make this damp cave my home.”
And asked:
“But which one?
Who is it that I love?
I feel so strongly for both though I cannot choose
I must climb from my hole”
But I couldn't move, I wouldn't dare
(Its worth a try, just look at her hair.)
I'll have to decide
or else just let my feelings die
So Again, I chose to wait, I waited too long
And just as they came the sisters were gone.
Leaving me behind. I don't claim them wrong.
(Og missikken stopper)
My back now hurts, my knees crack.
And was it worth it, to plant a garden alone.
Is it worth it when the bald spot on my head has grown,
and what I called joy was merely a clone
and you find that you never had a home
and love did come but you let it go?
Was it worth it in the end
to build a god of desire?
(When did my bed grow so uncomfortable?)
A god out of reach.

But at last they sing and usher in dawn,
Till our eyes finally open, and we're gone.
Don't let life pass you by
576 · Feb 2017
Changes Are Coming
Scott Hamsun Feb 2017
Changes are coming you'd better conform,
they're approaching  quickly your old ways are worn.
So take out your weapon fight the good fight,
If you are not a fighter than preach what is right.
And though your heart may be weary at first,
it will soon reach the point where it kills the old curse.
Destroy all the fake ways and typical words,
accept that the new world is turning the herds.
The stories been told, the ending is bleak,
If you think you can fix it your mind must be weak.
The "**** Superior" is proving to be fake,
but you better get a-moving or you'll expose 'your the snake.
544 · Feb 2017
A Song For Miss Aksnes
Scott Hamsun Feb 2017
When I'm feeling broken, beat up or put down,
sad, lonely and had my soul tossed around.
I'm heartened to know I look up to see,
the same sky that you've placed your dreams.
You taught me lessons I know were true,
and made me feel so very close to you.
What you wrote touched me in a high degree,
I never realized what was lacking inside of me.
You taught me to sing of love not hate,
helped me to understand a child's loving state.
And I truly believe you, when you said,
You'd rather see earth from in a child's head.
You helped me float in my own fairy tale,
though I lived among people who lived life very stale.
So thank you little miss Aksnes, I love you in a way,
I don't know how to say it but you've molded my heart like clay.

And though we haven't been here long,
You have so much wisdom within your songs.
This earth needs you its always crying,
Its just been born, but its in danger of dying.
The words you wrote has made me think,
this language I write can be more than just ink.
I listen to you, and I picture valleys,
Even if I'm walking through run down alleys.


The fun I saw you having since day one,
made me for the first time realize, emotion can be sung.
You must have fallen down from the sky,
they don't talk about the star girl, and I don't know why.
And when I feel like crying because the world's in rough shape,
I know you'll be there to help me escape.

Your home is about one million miles from mine,
I think perhaps its helps your beautiful rhymes.
You took me to lands that do not exist,
but somehow turned my world into their wish.
Because of you I reflected,
on the side of me I'd rejected.
What you mean to me just cant be said,
I'm trying real hard but before I finish I'll be dead.
540 · Jan 2017
Children
Scott Hamsun Jan 2017
Mother is feeling like dirt again,
I have to do something to please her.
Maybe scream?
maybe cry?
poke my brother in the eye?
Whatever the case shes feeling hurt again,
I have to make my act a little cleaner.
I will have to poke my brothers eye,
that will fix mothers sad, teary cry,
but where's my brother?
where is he?
I need him soon, no wait...I need him instantly.
Maybe he's here,
maybe he's there,
maybe he's cutting off sisters hair.
I guess the cat will have to do,
But I can't hurt him he's to cute,
so I'll just get ma some flowers.
535 · Feb 2017
Dirt and Dirt Alone
Scott Hamsun Feb 2017
People are walking down the street,
during the final apocalypse ,
radios on their big feet,
the jails are empty and all stripped,
and Micheal Moore might call it,
republicans old warship.
It's all our fault we built a world on ideas of ownership.

As the world sat there dying,
the remorseful dragon was bled,
and the leaches are all crying,
their brothers are all dead,
and I know though my silver spoon shines,
in the moonlight it turns to lead,
I sat there on the mountaintop and watched tom thumb break his leg.

The popular trend is collapsing,
the pirates are heroes too,
the tree now is alive and clapping,
what were once lies are now all true,
but ages pass and still we know ,
that every day is just a clue,
I ran across the border along with Napoleons entire crew.

The glass coffin it has a leak,
snow white is looking for love,
but all that people want is a peak,
and all she gets is mud,
behind her sunken eyes we can see,
a dam that will soon flood,
she kept it hidden long enough to water every shrub.

Everyone you knew has been abandoned,
They didn't last long on their own,
the prizes they always branded,
are gone its like they never were owned,
and even when the memory returns,
they'll just be a name on a stone.
And the people worth more than others are now just dirt and dirt alone.

Gandhi was walking his rat,
and he handed him a flower,
he said there you go Mr. diplomat,
but don't get drunk with the power,
and even with all of the things he yelled ,
the rat jumped off of the tower.
And we are now left to determine what to do in our last hour.

The ****** was again, alone,
with the memories of his father,
who was famous for many different tones,
he played while on his swather,
and he knows deep down he killed his pa,
there no excuse for hes a doctor,
and know he has to be punished so he kidnapped his own toddler.

The sideshows are all empty,
the freaks have all gone home,
the first to die are the the yetis,
the first to live are made from foam,
we remember this but forget the rest,
if we must we will build catacombs,
but be careful if you don't comply with them they'll take you up into their domes.
534 · Feb 2017
The Church
Scott Hamsun Feb 2017
If you see me on the steps,
of the tattered old church,
perhaps I have made a little progress.
Dunwich is a tough place to live,
but the folklore is rich.
In fact, if indeed I am sitting along the steps,
I would be right near a witch and a vampire,
a few ghosts,
and a revival of my spirit.
487 · Feb 2017
Spring
Scott Hamsun Feb 2017
Spring is just about on its way.
That means I can walk back to Sherwood forest!
I suppose I could go in the winter, or summer, especially in the fall,
but I don't want to go to far.
It's very special in the spring.
I like to stop short, and climb my mountain,
look across my town, (which is just trees) and try to find my house.
And Sometimes I go too far.
I go to the abandoned center of the town.
I go there to reminisce about things I wasn't alive for,
and I can claim the noble title of prophet, by simply claiming to be there for the passed.
But my heart still lies in Sherwood.
I can't wait for spring.
474 · May 2017
Drivers ed
Scott Hamsun May 2017
Og Plato synger på øya, men på gatene snakker kvinnene dårlig og du står i mellom og alle ser deg, men ingen ser deg.
467 · Jan 2017
Fame
Scott Hamsun Jan 2017
All the animals scurry through the vast woods,
they secretly look across the field to see two legged animals.
Follow them home,
stare at the home,
oh what a beautiful home.
"But look!"
Said one deer in lonesome fascination
"The heads of our brethren hang there"
"Why not us?"
"How much less beautiful must we be?"
They scurry back.
Quickly, quickly! To tell the others.

"What a majestic meaning in life...to be a wall hanging,
I must become a creature worthy of this life"
They all said in unison.

As hunters come and go, all but the lucky ones get their wish granted,
and the rest have the minds to run fast and chauvinistically,
to show off, in hopes of being hung for the world to admire.
Without a soul, and never the free will that the forest granted.

And as one deer is shot, all young doe frantically scream...
"can't you believe it, I knew him before he was along the wall!"
and...
"He wagged his tail at me, you saw it, he really did!"
Its not all its cracked up to be.
Scott Hamsun Jan 2017
I was told I would be safe when we put down our guns,
But it seems to me like we **** people before they can run,
Its a disaster,
If you oppose you are shunned,
We act like we're the masters,
But even children have only one,
And how dare you think,
That any of your emotions are worth more than a life.
446 · Feb 2017
If We Pray
Scott Hamsun Feb 2017
The land I was born in,
is crumbling fast.
The civil war took it,
Into its cold grasp.
We had no defense,
Though we had a forecast.
Perhaps if we pray we'll unite at last.

The place I was brought up,
Is now just a hole.
the bombs they where dropped by...
our own flagpole.
The Reds they did nothing,
in fact they helped pray,
perhaps if we join them we will mend someday.

Though no war was declared.
I know history'll tell,
the cities were roaring,
you could hear every yell.
The guns they got fired,
the guns made of gold,
I know if we wait dear, we'll survive the cold.

We used to have battles,
to get to the moon.
But now we start wars just,
to earn silver spoons.
The battle you can't win,
but if we all die,
just know that we tried hard, to fight the good fight.

The chemicals we spread,
they hurt God more.
when he sees us suffer.
And start backyard wars,
He has a good reason,
to not pick a side.
The reason our side fights, is to stay alive.

If I am alive when,
the world war three comes.
I know that in battle
is where ill become:
just a brick of carbon
in a world full of life
the war zone is ready, we live in its strife.

A bullet that comes from,
your neighbors handgun,
it hits you and tells you,
that your life is done,
but we will all destroy,
this battle of hate,
there's nothing we can do, perhaps we just wait.

the old time America,
has breathed its last breath.
The Communists and all,
the racists face death.
If I was to be there,
I would say no way,
we've seen enough death now, to last a decade.

The court rooms are empty
the laws have all died,
if we could rebuild it,
this country could thrive,
but let us not make all,
the same old mistakes.
This land that I love is: facing an earthquake.

It is over in most ways,
in  others its worse.
the temper of those man,
has cast a a new curse.
There's nothing that's been won,
when death is so rich.
I hope we learn lessons while digging the ditch .
423 · Feb 2017
How We Lost Our Souls
Scott Hamsun Feb 2017
Behind the stories of old bad luck,
lay Lucifer and his surrogate beginning to ****.
Draining every swamp of muck,
releasing the morbidly hunted buck.
You married the woman who carries the child,
Satans last son, you are now in denial.
Swallow your pride this is not done in style,
we the people have brought our own trials.
420 · Jan 2017
ACTivism
Scott Hamsun Jan 2017
You say you want change,
You even go to protests, you say,
But as I look at your body of work ,
All you have to say is,
"I wasn't the one who broke those windows",
You don't do anything, you just yell among other yells,
Get over yourself, you aren't anybody,
Do something, don't say something,
Mr. nobody from nowhere,
The martyrs blood is worth so much more that the screamers spit,
Or even the writers ink,
You don't know art,
You don't act,
You just assume your overheard opinion is worth enough for us to listen.
412 · Jan 2017
Granted
Scott Hamsun Jan 2017
You are not a poet,
Just as I am not a poet,
But that does not mean we cannot write poetry,
Perhaps one day we will be named poets,
But just as we are not poets,
Whoever grants us that title also can't be a poet,
So all I can wish to do,
Is touch the hearts of my fellow title tossers.
411 · Mar 2017
Letter to the Dictator
Scott Hamsun Mar 2017
Dear Pastor,
I was wandering the church yesterday, and there was a lady crying in your office. Do you know anything about that?  Anyway I'm just writing to say: I know you came from that little mud hut in Uganda or something, and I can tell that this is your chance to start anew, but its getting a little crazy here. I heard that like, Four babies overdosed on acetaminophen under your watch. I don't know how true that is, but I believe it. And Whats that rumor that you are starting a zoo all about? Sounds pretty genuine. And the Christmas tree is hanging from the ceiling, because the toothless **** head bit you? Not very forgiving of you. All that going on and you're building a castle? Eh, whatever, you ain't special. Thomas More wrote Utopia before you started blabbing about it.

Sincerely,

Un-Baptised degenerate.
407 · Mar 2017
Planning Ahead
Scott Hamsun Mar 2017
After all this time, I finally understand,
That the reason life is so short, is because it is irrelevant.
Death is eternal,
Because it is all that matters.
We're just passing through, and on our way out,
This life is over, start thinking about whats next.
393 · Mar 2017
The Kitty Knows
Scott Hamsun Mar 2017
My cat walked up to me,
He said "meop"
I said what in the world man, you got a stutter or somethin'?
He said "meop"
I looked into his eyes and said, "its pronounced meow."
He said "meop"
I picked him up and told him a story, pet him for a few hours, and asked if he was okay.
He said "meop"
I thought maybe he's callin' me names.
Maybe he's teasing me.
He said "meop"
I was starting to like it.
Now I say meop.
I think I wanna be a meop.
384 · Mar 2017
For All You Fascists
Scott Hamsun Mar 2017
If this was part of Hitlers game,
Why then do we make the claim,
That it helps women and Jews the same,
But Its really just another name,
For Evil.

Pointed sticks that face the sun,
Stolen homicidal guns,
Evil men that stand there stunned,
Even though they wanna run,
Its futile.

Guns that fire, guns that stun,
Apparently are fit for none,
Believing them seems pretty dumb,
They've shown how they are human ****,
They're insane.

In my pocket, digging around,
Looking for every last dollar and pound,
When your not happy with what you've found,
Its time for you to send the hound,
You thieves!

But those who say "power to you",
Are accused of the things they would never do,
Attacked and burned for every break through,
Punched for wanting a better view,
You are the problem.

Protested for wanting to free you all,
Beat up for wanting a freedom call,
They say freedom is a right to all,
But the others they make their stories tall,
And I say that's not fascism, its Tuesday.
I wrote this before the word was overused by leftists
380 · Jan 2017
Pride
Scott Hamsun Jan 2017
The summit of pride...Is at best, a long ***** to fall from.
Ive seen many die from my place at the top.
But I am not so lucky.
I must wait patiently till the day,
(for no man can surrender his pride)
And I will fall,
Faster and harder than any I have seen.
But what I have seen:

A stag with strong antlers becoming tangled in the thickets.

A man, A patriarch, A fighter, who in defeat, cannot grace.

A child with the best toy who becomes a recluse when the new one arrives.

A Woman who has never surrendered to a morally ambiguous world, Has told them to be stolen.

For happiness intertwined with your pride will fail.
Just as what you have taken pride in dwindles.
Every weak point exists to become stronger.
374 · May 2017
Ehem
Scott Hamsun May 2017
Ear           Pupils        Get
Drums     have           to
are            a                 know
really       good           your
funny       way            feet
when        of                they
there         letting        are
is                you            your
nothing     see             best
else            the             friends
to               world
hear
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