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my needs are just too much
IF I NEED IT THEN I TAKE IT

I try to hide my needs
**** ANYONE WHO SAYS TO FAKE IT

I hide behind my walls
I DON'T HIDE, I'M NOT A COWARD

and save my energy
I HAVE COURAGE, I HAVE POWER

I wear a mask for everyone
I WANT TO BE SEEN

to hide what's different about me
I AM PROUD TO BE OBSCENE

I think that this would be too much for them
ARE THEY SO ******* HELPLESS

you're selfish for revealing
I DON'T CARE IF I AM SELFISH

this is why you are dangerous
I AM HERE TO PROTECT YOU

you are why they rejected me
BUT I DID NOT REJECT YOU

you are the face I cannot show
CANNOT OR ARE AFRAID TO?

you are made of my darkness
I AM THE DARKNESS THAT MADE YOU

I am afraid to look at you
LOOK ME IN THE EYE

I'm afraid that you are bad
I'M NOT AFRAID TO BE THE BAD GUY

I have to keep you locked away
ADMIT THAT ISN'T TRUE

this wasn't meant to be a dialogue
ADMIT THAT I AM YOU
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                           Let Us Celebrate No Tyrants Day


                           “We have no king but Caesar!”

               -A long-ago mob as written in St. John 19:15


Even the King of Kings is under the Law
And too, since Magna Carta, our earthly King -
From the people and their voices he can only draw
Such powers as their assemblies vote to bring

But may God protect us from a Common Man
Slithering to supremacy through serpentine speech
Emboldened by the power of cabal, club, and clan
Mobs chanting for their master, a soul-******* leech

God gives us His grace in a King and Queen
Republics give us the guillotine
14 June 20245 - our Stasi handcuffed an 87-year-old man today: https://x.com/CarolinaLumetta/status/1933669206114898254/video/3

The machine (or The Machine) may have replaced a word in Line 8 with a series of censorious asterisks, presuming that I was employing a crudity. The word is "soul-*******," "soul" (presumably "soul" is not a vulgarity?) followed by a common term for negative pressure, "*******," as in a vacuum cleaner.

I strongly disapprove of junior-high ***** language in, well, anything, but certainly in poetry; it suggests that the writer is deficient in vocabulary or is simply trying to be shocking. Yawn. But I also strongly disapprove of prissy persons who find wickedness in commonly used words and in other innocent aspects of life.
You like me
and I like you.
So there’s just one
thing to do–
or two,
or three.
It’s true we’re probably not compatible
as you’re not so much the intellectual
but the main point is that
we’re both heterosexual.
So come on over, I like the way you talk.
You like the way I jiggle.
I like the pic you sent me of your….
Make it sooner,
I don’t have much time.
And I know that you’ll never be mine.
But thinking of you makes me quiver.
I only hope I’m not promising more
than I can deliver.
Sometimes two people just start having ****** fantasies about each other at the same time...and age, social differences etc. seem like they just don't matter.

Songs for this:
Old Folks Boogie, by Little Feat
Dancing Barefoot, by Patti Smith
A night at the Museum,
and we're dressed to ****.
The mood is gleeful–
and the people, chill.
All court the kings and queens of shill.

Our ****** deeds are whitewashed clean.
Our grievous crimes are left unseen–
sanitized versions on the tv screen.

But our steps were tracked with care
by one who could no longer bear
the growing horror, the scenes from there.
The cry of anguish, the dead-eyed stare.

Now the blood drips on our shoes.
Our deaths headline the evening news.
Yet still, the truth has only views
on internet sites with volunteer crews.

When there is no other way
Desperation will have its day
If you really want to see what's going on in Gaza, you have to go to sites such as Reddit and look at the World news subreddits. Then you'll understand.
The Ogre does what ogres can,
Deeds quite impossible for Man,
But one prize is beyond his reach,
The Ogre cannot master Speech:
About a subjugated plain,
Among its desperate and slain,
The Ogre stalks with hands on hips,
While drivel gushes from his lips.
It’s hard for me to listen to your sorrow and pain
because it reminds me once more and again
of the place far away that I used to know,
the place to which never again can I go

Your story of how the neighborhood you  knew
was burned to the ground; there was nothing you could do
reminds me of how, when I when I turn on the news,
I see starving babies, dead bodies, but no ambulance crew

A coastline of rubble, grey rocks and black smoke
I did what I could, but there is no more hope.
I know it’s my job and the least I can do
to do what I can, to maybe help you.

What you survived was not war but a fire
And the future you face isn’t nearly so dire
But the words that you use and the stories you tell
Reminds me of those murderers who create  living hell
In fact the L.A. fires were not an "Act of God" but probably caused by the power company and their negligence. ****** and destruction by omission.
Swaying, to an electronic beat.
Hallucinogenic mushroom treat.
Blissed out youth in easy grace,
dancing in a limbic space
in their comfy border town--
have no idea what’s going down.

But there will always be disorder
if you choose to paint Hell’s border
while you live on the other side--
a created,  artificial divide.
Heaven and Hell will soon collide.
"challenge you to write a poem that involves music at a ceremony or event of some kind"
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