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As I stand before the mountain of confidence called hope, I see a clear path up, not too steep, not too straight, but this path is embodied with rewards to the top.

At the top, there is a magnificent tree made of gold, silver leaves and Copper roots. Hope mountain held a perfect prize awaiting me, a Tree called Faith.
This sight to behold was everything I wanted, everything before me was so clear, but at the bottom where I was, there was a River.

This River was called Shame.
This river was filthy, the water was calm where I was, but looking downstream I could see the rapids of rage, the ripples of conditioning before the raging rapids were inviting.

The dreary stonewalling fortification on the banks allowed no light through, downstream was scary and looked impossible, why would I go that way? why even look?
I looked upstream and saw a blinding light, what could this be? I was so curious, so I waited, a true gentleman always waits.

Two days later the light took shape, as it came closer I could finally see, I could see a lifeboat with a caring nurturing beautiful woman.

As this beautiful woman came closer, I could see the river was being supplied by this woman, I could see she was the source.

The river of Shame was being fed by this woman, this filth in front of me was coming from her, but the beauty was something I've never seen, this beauty had me curious.

This beauty made me forget of the supply to the river.
  What I saw wasn't real all the sudden, what I believed was now real.
She came close enough for my heart to be heard, since she had no heart she was envious, she hated what others admired.

She wanted my wholesome heart, so she used her falsehood love bombing to create one, dreamingly admiring the mountain, we were planning different paths right then.
As I stared at the golden Tree of Faith glowing upon Hope mountain, I didn't notice the river was rising, as the numbing waters were rising it covered my feet, I didn't notice she also took a piece of my heart to claim as her own.

She used toxic gas and light to create a projection that this heart was hers to give back to me.

I didn't know any better so I accepted this ambient abused heart, this unfelt abuse gave me amnesia, this hidden poison of my cognitive dissonance gave her all of me.

Since she had nothing and that's what she craves, I had everything so she wanted to enslave.
I forget about the mountain with the tree even being there. I forgot I was here.

Her lifeboat was awkward, it was shaky,
it has imperfections, it has holes,
   her lifeboat is sinking,
     her heart is missing.
my knightly kind hearted empathy,
   my buffering and nurturing sympathy         pick this beautiful woman up
      I pick this gem up because of her idealization of me.
I can clean this insidious gem because she makes me believe, but through the veil I cannot see.
I throw her over my shoulder to carry all her weight, it's hard to move, hard to breathe, building a new boat was extremely hard, carrying her pain was extremely hard.

Everyone thought it was impossible to do it, my shear will power to commit ****** one foot in front of the other, I just didn't know that going downstream was impossible.

What about the mountain?

I couldn't remember from the amnesia, the dark night blinded my sight of the mountain, the drug in me was you and it consumed, i fell in love with misery and misery loves it's companies.

I stared the snake behind the veil in the eyes, standing tall on her pedastool made of spackle it breaks, I fall onto piercing confusion, I pull out shrapnel's of dissolution, I'm covered in her blood of invalidation.

I'm already floating in the boat with her, this wasn't my plan, this wasn't my reality.
I gaze upon this woman, sun shining behind her, no clouds in the sky.
floating downstream she tells me it's faster, that we'll end up behind the mountain higher.

I'm not worried now, I'm now contempt with shame.
I already forgot reality, I already forgot i'm going downstream, I forgot the searing pain, I forgot what I believe.

I'm relaxed, I'm tired, I'm still happy in love with this spellbound misery.

As we drift slowly through the stonewalls, no light shines through, I ask her for assurance, it's getting dark, I'm getting scared.

That's when the veil comes off, that's when the unnatural beauty grows quiet, that's when my voice screams silently within these stone walls.

This isn't her, this isn't real,
I know there's love I can feel, that was our bond, that was our deal, not to steal.

I fall over board and the water is cold, there's leaches, the debris is so random, the shameful water is moving faster, the all consuming cold confusion, random gaslighting and triangulations moving in around me faster.

I immediately can't bear it. My heart pulsates hard, my mind misfires my flight mode, i cannot intake the overbearingly unowned toxic Shame, her coldness activated my fawn mode, I froze, I start to doze.

luckily she had my leg, luckily she knew excessive admiration CPR, just as my body went limp in the agonizing River of Shame, she pulls me out. luckily she got me just in time, luckily she saved my life.

I awoke away from the stonewalls, it's sunny and safe again, we're together through impossible odds, we built this boat and she saved my life.

The abuse amnesia made me forget, the cognitive dissonance was real, I am not.

The mountain was now farther away, I was worried, I grew fearful, what I wanted looked farther away, that's when everything became gloomy, my goal was no longer there, but she didn't care, she knew where the river went, I believed her, I still do.

The ambient abuse made me anxious, the atmosphere was maddening of fear, it carried anxiety, I couldn't see it, but I was breathing it in.

Her eyes were so incapacitating, her heart disorienting, her soul captivating, she had a better plan, for us to press on and build another boat, to add another life, to believe in her, to not stare at the knife.

We build another boat, were out of the shame waters finally, she's helping me, were soon to be a real family, but the only thing real here was me.

Everything is better on the land, were dry, it's sunny, it's better to feel the nirvanic sand. It's here we bring our new seed, to be sprouted downstream.

I now believe in this new mountain downstream, I don't even remember the mountain I seen, were pressing on downstream past a levy, were now in the River of Grief, we're off to the end of make believe.

This river is really turbulent with rapids of devaluation, the splashes make me irrelevant, the dinigrating actions around make me small, I feel lost and confused, nothing makes sense anymore at all.

At the mouth of the River of Grief it opens up into a valley. She jumped onto a rock of vanity and pushed the tree of disloyalty upon the boat.

This throws me out head first, but luckily I have our seed safe and sound, luckily I learned how to drown.

I turn around falling and see her at the top staring down, she smirked and throws enormously heavy anvils of bereavement to make me fall harder, to keep me down longer.

Evil is real, but only if you believe, I crave the flattery of illusionary love, I still had amnesia, I love misery, the feeling reminds me I can feel, I love my slow death so I say I'll find you, I have the seed, I'll wait for you.

As I fall the thorns of numbing premeditation pierce, the pain is searing, as I fall i'm locked on her, my falsehood of love is still enduring, I don't feel the discard, I ignore the distaste.

I land in a field of hopium still protecting the seed, my amnesia is now worse, I can't remember her smirk, I can't remember the weighted anvils of bereavement, I can't remember the tree of disloyalty, I still can't remember the mountain.

My movement is heavy like concrete, my heart sits down at my feet, my mind is nowhere to be found, my spirit is fading on this ground.

I gather everyone from a nearby village to find her, it's impossible, they can't see her, she never existed, my amnesia was now delusional, the hopium mixed realities, nothing was real, there was nothing I could truly feel because everything was wrong, but I believe misery needs me and I yearned.

I say she's at the top, we have to throw her a rope,
they say it won't reach what isn't there,
I say we need a ladder to throw the rope, they say the ladder isn't safe that high.
  
I say everyone can hold the ladder while I climb perilously to the top, they say it will never work, but since they can see me, since they see a part of me is still real, everyone holds the ladder for me.
      
While I acend with my broken dignity, I acend with a fatigued heart, I acend to find what I believe, no matter how hard I try, I will be taking my destined decent.

The top of the ladder is shaky, I spent forever getting there, it's scary, the heights bring great fear over me, more than I've ever felt, but my knighthood makes me overcome anything.

I suppress, the seed is safe down below, I'm here to impress, I can see her now, only much less.

Her snake skin is peeling, the sun scorched blistering skin shows immense pain, witnessing this releases empathy, the caring knighthood in me naturally wanted to save her again.

So I wrap what's left of my discarded soul upon my broken fatigued heart and I use my trauma bonded mind as bait.

I throw her the rope,
she catches the rope,
I tell her to tie off the rope,
she ties a noose with the rope,
her neck is now wrapped with this rope.

If she falls I can't stop the tightening of the rope, if she falls I already know I'll jump for her and release from her neck this rope.

We jump together and I release the rope around her neck, I see the ground coming fast, but I love this snake, I'll die for this snake because I believe, false beauty inside is all I see.

I grab her and turn her away from the rushing ground, I fell once, I can take the fall again.

She is already hurt, immense pain, she will not feel no more pain, because I'm not hurting for I'm with misery again, I believe I can take all the pain for her, the hopium was numbing everything I consumed.

I awoke to a distressed angel, flawed personality, beautiful nightmare, mirroring the devil, but what I saw was a veil over the snake eyes, what I saw was what I believed before.

What I had wasn't real, who I am is no longer there, for I had ambience amnesia, nothing around me fit, nothing around me was grounded, nothing around me was divine.

The eyes that gazed upon me were captivating, spriling, time froze and only she was moving, the feeling was there, a drug within me, the drug was her and I longed for the misery, I yearned for the pain to remember what was real, I needed the intermittent reinforcement, I wanted my all bets in investment back and I risked a short sale.

We faded into the black, into a new boat, she made this boat, she had plugs in  holes of the boat I couldn't see, I believed it was perfect, I didn't know what awaited was a life long anguish.

I still didn't know what was downstream is impossible, I didn't know this new River of Anguish has piranhas of triangulation, I didn't know the rapids were of oppression, I didn't know the rocks causing these rapids she already put in place, I didn't know it was so black around me in this place, I didn't know my seed would become two, I didn't know I would have to choose.

I didn't know true love was in front of me in my hands and not behind the veil, I thought it was her, all the villagers knew, but as I drew closer to the snake the darkness only grew and the seeds too.

The feeling of my lingering mortality reverberates, she built me a coffin and chained it to my ankles, with this immense weight, I carry it with me just in case.

We floated very fast down this River of Anguish, everything seemed fine to all others including me, the darkened skies covered the evil, the cold waters made my body numb, the seeds were held up high to be be safe from the tormenting waters.

As I held them up high, I didn't realize she was still holding the schraded butcher knife in the water, I didn't believe she would hurt me, I didn't conceive the possibility that knife I didn't see was there all along for me.

The waters of Anguish smothered me, the triangulating piranhas slowly nibbled on my feet in the water, the rapids of oppression kept me gazing in the water, the rocks of malice in the water tried to tip me over, but my balance was true and the seeds were safe from harm, but I am not safe, I'm dying inside.

I don't know why, but after every agonizing stab from this knife when I'm not looking, it hurts, but the numbing knife only helped me when it was pulled out, it has holes in the knife so she could pull it out without me knowing.

I always turned around and cleaned the knife covered in my blood, I always gave it back to her, but every wipe upon this blade made it grow, and every wipe made the label on the handle more clear.

I find out in the end this knife is called narcissistic rage, the brand of this knife is called gaslighting and my blood is the supply.

I didn't know any of this until it was too late to save myself, my reality wasn't real, my dreams are gone, my nightmare is all consuming and existent, my seeds are still safe, but I am not.

When I start to notice the knife exists, I forgive her, the conditioning made the skies darker, I wipe the blood off and give it back, the knife is now a sword, it's name is discard.

The waters are uneven, the piranhas of triangulation feel like strangulation, my clothes are still soaking wet with anguish, my hair is slimy and covered in Shame, my feet are cold and numb from the grief.

I can't understand why I'm here,
  I can't understand why I'm actually meant to be here.
  
Every turbulence has thrown me down, she pushes me over head first, as I try to lean up to breathe she has her foot on my neck in the cold numbing river, but this river does not affect her, this river is warmer than her, the warmth from anguish pleased her, the piranhas followed her commands to bite, she smirked as the rocks she placed crushed against my head.

She waited until I went limp every time, but she knew idealization CPR, her deceit was without compassion, her rage was without sympathy, but I had severe ambience abuse amnesia, I still couldn't remember the mountain, I am now trauma bonded from the stabs she's counting.

I only saw her veil, her gaze convinced me I placed these rocks here, her gaze made me ignore the stonewalls around me, her pure hatred was covered in false intentions, her illusion was my isolation.

As everything was becoming clearly dangerous, as everything went pitch black, I look back and see the light from the mountain glowing, I see there is something wrong where I'm at, I see the seeds are not growing, I start to see the pain all around me.

Non the wiser, I keep coming back from drowning, I keep falling for misery, I keep wiping my blood off the blade, I keep isolated, but now I feel there is something painfully wrong, the reason abates me but I feel it, it hurts, it's camouflaged by deceit, it's all in my head, my coffin is soon to be my bed.

I look to the shores, there are other villagers worried, they are waving frantically, they're pointing at a waterfall ahead, this waterfall is called Doom, this fall would be death, the sound is raging, the mouth all consuming.

I see the stream to the side that the villagers are pointing to, I see the calm waters awaiting our safety, but the boat will not fit.

Only me and the seeds are real, everything else around me is illusional, the trauma delusional, the possible harm to the seeds was not refutable, my love for misery was unsuitable.

I could see my life was in danger, I could see the stream nearby screaming safety, I knew the seeds needed me, now I can't stop shaking.

Without her knowing what I was doing, I turned my back towards her facing the water, I knew she was going to stab me over and over again until I turned around, I now see the hypnotic eyes behind the veil. Not turning around only enraged her, the blood on the knife was condesating.

  The safety of the stream for my seeds was a new found glory in my exodus.
  
I paddled with my small hands this large weighted boat towards the stream, her knife was venomous, the water was echoless, the air imparted dreadfulness, all of this was dimensionless, all of this was not real, unless I let it be, now I can see, now I can finally flee.

As I came closer to the stream the waterfall grew stronger, the pain larger, the sound louder, I knew we were closer to the end, I knew I needed to jump off with my seeds, but I know the torment will end.

I melted my enduring pain inside with molten lava heartache to mold anew, I compartmentalize because I have to choose.

I had a vision that if I jump, the seeds will be safe, the climb to the mountain can still happen, I knew I was right about how I felt all along, I realized the veil couldn't cover the true self, I now believed In me.

I now know the water air and land were not what she made me believe, I knew I didn't choose this path, I knew I could survive, I know the seeds are going to be safe now. I know because I manifested instead of throwing in the towel.

Once close enough I finally looked at her and smiled I love you, jumping into the river I could feel the bitter cold agonizing tormenting river smash me with bereavement and disillusion by dissociation, I felt the coma of trauma surround, for I am now trauma bound.

I hold my seeds up high, I kept them safe because they don't feel the water, they're starting to sprout already, no more decay.

As I climb out of the frigid waters and still dripping wet, the drops are red, my feeling is coming back, my back is full of knives, I'm scared but I survived.
Knowing the worst is over I look back to her, she is consuming the river because she was the source, everything dark folds in on itself because the light cannot touch here, for this black hole is collapsing in on itself, I cover the seeds to shield them of this exorcist, they're safe here because my love is relentless.

The tormenting pain makes it hard to stand tall, still going through bereavement of a false reality where I lost it all, the answers we're all lost in the waterfall
"" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" "" ”"" "" "" "”" "" ""
Brent Kincaid Sep 2015
We were the ones,
Self-chosen ones,
And we had seen enough.
And we had heard enough
To be tired of the drama;
The games that our mamas
And our Papas played
The plans they laid
That so often did not work.
The pensions and the perks
That so often left them bitter
Mumbling curses about quitters
As they argued over parking spaces
And carefully averted their faces
When people were denied rights
Because they were not white
Or sometimes because Jews
And non-whites could not be
Members of their sororities
And country club amenities.

They demanded no dark skin
And objected to what we dressed in
And wanted us to cut our hair
And go find a decent job somewhere
To start an acceptable career
And get a decent nine to five
To work as long as we were alive.
We knew they were trying to protect
To drive us to the life they projected
That would help us get a salary
And develop the kind of misery
And sense of hopelessness;
The exact kind of mess
They were living
And they weren’t forgiving
When we rebelled and fought
And shunned the trinkets they bought
That they thought would tempt us
To buckle on the harness;
The long-term promise.

We rejected the temptation
To join the workaday nation
And get into the drinking
Nine-to-five way of thinking.
We swapped the whiskey
For something they found risky.
We smoked our marijuana
And talked about nirvana
In our love-beads and batik
We left family homes to seek
And ultimately to find friends
Who wanted the same ends
And would work with us,
And they would walk with us
To the love-ins and protests
And help us pen requests
For marches and gatherings
To demonstrate our misgivings
About who got what
And who did not
And how and when
And which were not seen as men.
But we saw poorly disguised slaves
We knew we wanted to save.

We were going to fix the world
So, we waded into insults hurled
And high-powered fire hoses.
They broke our arms and noses
And trod on our signs
And drew a line
Between us and the public.
We were criminals and suspects
In crimes they invented;
We patchouli oil scented
Hippies wearing Birkenstocks
Without any socks
And jeans with protest patches
Singing our snatches of songs
Like “We Shall Overcome Someday”.
They couldn’t hear a word we would say.
They just cursed us and objected
And made sure we were subjected
To as much stonewalling as the law
Could put up against us all.

We were going to fix the world,
And we got LBJ on our side, like Jack
He went on the attack
And changed things for the better
Still not to the letter of the law
But a bit more spirit
Began to exist in it
Because blacks were acknowledged
And could finally go to college
In white schools
Adhering to the rules
The bigots had always ignored.
And unlike before, the police
Actually kept the peace
Unless it involved demonstrations
Against the crimes of our nation
Against another nation
That never attacked us
Never even threatened us.
These protest made us criminals
And that is what the cops thought of us.

Yes, by the time Nixon was going
After everyone began knowing
What a rat he was and because
He got caught, we saw
Him get on the copter and leave
And without a thought to grieve
We wanted our country to cease
Being some kind of insane police
In an Asian country few of us knew.
To stop what they put our troops through
And bring the people back here
So they could end the killing and fear
That our country was generating.
The debating was through
And the country started anew
By ending that situation.
Peace descended on the nation
And we took credit.
We did do some of it.
Then, we quit.

We started small companies
Selling handmade gifts and soaps
Not becoming the dopes
We fought our parents not to be
But more the people we ought to be
Living in hippie enclaves
That turned into yuppie enclaves
And we got fatter.
But that didn’t matter.
We had our memories
And we had our old war stories
Of marching, and protesting
And they were interesting enough
That we lost the will to be tough
And let the objections slide
And hid inside our mini-farms
And ignored when people were harmed
By many of the same atrocities
That fueled our animosities
Just a generation before.
We decided it was not our war
And sat on our hands.
And drifted like the sands.
Jean Rojas Apr 2015
You can not **** the hummingbird
And think that there
Will be no repercussions

You can not silence
His lips
With the barrel of a gun

You can not bury his memory
By stonewalling and
Distorting the evidences

You can not erase his ideals
By destroying his name…..

Extinguish not his memory
By firing the shots,
It is an act that only
Fans the aching flame

You think he is forgotten
But he lives………
Healthy in the hearts of millions
You thought are but a few

Someday we will sing his song of love
Someday he will rise again, defiant!
Daring to fly, as high
As the burning sun
And you can not stop him
Or **** him once again

For the hummingbird shall endure
The compassion of men shall sustain him
And he will conquer this death
That you have inflicted upon him

So you can **** the man and his body
You can blow his face all away
You can trample him with your
Angry tyranny
But you can never, never
**** his soul!

The hummingbird defies you
The hummingbird lives on and on and on………
For: Captain Panfilo Villaruel
01 December, 2003
vircapio gale  Oct 2012
woot
vircapio gale Oct 2012
woot for when i feel you understand
woot for private mysteries of only being me and you
woot for games of lashing raw and scintillating *** in discord's after-thaw

woot for being true
for lies so old they utter love in corners never new.

woot for google's Timbuktu and Timbuctoo and Timbuktoo
woot for w00t

for chasing names into an aether sigh of history
forming castles in the mind,
stonewalling issues to the end of time

woot for fruit.
Hildegarda Ares Oct 2012
The first sinking dismay
she had in her humdrum life
was the first bongless time
when she heard herself cry.

The swallow of a muttered moan
following a stricken strife
like a shade hurtling the shadows,
a last dismaying gasp.

Where the zephyr in southerly arms die
where the nymph shrivels on a thirsty desire
where the Wheel crashes on a pallid meadow
where the plucked wings of the Dove fly?

Where the shadow of the bear downed stone
will dim my own umbra, eventide's gravedigger
brooding on a fractured glass? Lights' eyes queller
the lips' ballad subduer, ripper of the flock's strokes.

Your own stonewalling dismay is
double-crosser of a sea of dust chalk,
drowning feeble lying fireflies...
twinkling the sneers of your eclipse.

-Follow, follow her shadow
calling your own void from afar.

Where the wild lilacs the foggy crucify
where the stinging memory stirs dawdling desires
where a stabbing thought make the blurred red rock dance
dance in an **** between the answer and the why.
BubbleZee Jun 2015
Dear Frustrated,
These are the things I wasn’t brave enough to say to you,
even in text.
I didn’t lose my phone, or your number or track of time. I
can assure you there is no message mysteriously stuck
in my outbox, just waiting to be sent. There was no family
emergency and I’m not just “working through some stuff”
right now. I am not too busy at work, or out of credit and I
have good service.
I have made the regrettable, yet conscious decision not to
text you anymore.
I have all but convinced myself that being open and
honest would only hurt your feelings, even though I know
it’s a lie. I know that what I’m doing is not fair, but right
now, my fear is stronger than my guilt.
I never set out to hurt you, but suddenly, I can see no
other ending to this story.
You aren’t imagining things.
There was a time when things were good, even great. We
did connect. I did really like you.
The smiles, the jokes, the intimate moments—they were
all real.
But then, something happened that made me realize
we’re not quite compatible.
I wish I could tell you that it’s not your fault—that there’s
nothing you could have done differently—that the problem
really isn’t you.
The problem is that I believe we want different things. I
can’t quite put my finger on it, but in my mind, we see the
world through different glasses, we speak a different
language and we live in different futures.
And while I may be able to make you happy right now,
I realize that I won’t be able to make you happy in the
long run.
I know you must think I’m an a**hole for what I’m doing—
that I’m stonewalling you because I don’t care about your
feelings. In truth, I’m simply scared. My emotions make
me so uncomfortable, that when I try to express myself,
my words get tangled.
I am worried that if I attempt to tell you how I feel, I will
accidentally say the wrong thing and offend you. If only I
was willing to endure that one, slightly awkward
conversation, I’d save you months of frustration.
Instead, I have chosen to withdraw.
I will lock up my feelings, as I always do and pretend they
don’t matter. I will ignore my guilt and tell myself, this is
for the best.
I know it’s too late, but, I’m sorry.
I’m sorry for putting my own emotional welfare ahead of
yours.
I’m sorry for dragging you behind me while I try to make
my cowardly escape.
I’m sorry for making you feel like you’re going crazy.
And finally, I’m sorry for ever giving you a reason to doubt
yourself.
The way I have tried to deal with this situation
is proof that you deserve better.
You deserve someone who is willing to say the wrong
thing, to have the awkward, necessary conversations.
You deserve someone who isn’t afraid of their emotions,
who is willing to be vulnerable and share themselves
completely.
More than anything, you deserve to be happy. And while
no one person can ever give that to you, you deserve
someone who is willing to do whatever it takes to help
you find your happiness within.
Stara  Jan 2018
Lost
Stara Jan 2018
You told me you know you lost me forever
Because it wasn't you
Kissing me on that train

But you paved the way to lose me
when you pushed me away
When you hurt me
again and again

You led yourself to lose me
when you didn't kiss the wounds you made
When you never even tried to apologize
You lost me in dishonesty

You lost me when you told your ex we were over,  
before I left
You lost me when you lied
You lost me in your disrespect

You continued to lose me every time you disappeared
You lost me in your selfishness
And in your spiritless attempts to mansplain
how you miss me

To build me up
just to ignore me
and stab my bleeding heart
The heart I am kissing back to life

You lost me when you never
came after me
And when you didn't make an effort
to bring me home

You lost me when you weren't there for me
when I needed you most

You lost me when you took your hurt out on me
You lost me in the hurt you inflicted on my soul
You lost me when I finally had the strength to leave
You lost me by doing nothing
when I did

You lost me in your inner pain
You lost me when you let that pain
turn you into a monster
You lost me when you let that monster
turn you into a coward

You lost me by stonewalling me
when I opened my heart
to your pain

You lost me because you don't care
more than an inch in front of you
You lost me because you say you do care
You lost me because your words bare no meaning
anymore
james nordlund Oct 2019
"Having turned the machinery of the Gov't into
a corrupt process of getting bad press made on
his political opponents, the Bidens, by buying
false investigations on them by multiple Gov'ts,
must be impeached, now", say Dems, the people.

The impeachment investigation has received much
evidence to support it, yet, Rumputin/vlad-
the-impaler, who were illegally installed into
the Blackhouse after the 2016 election, are
stonewalling numerous other subpeonas, requests.

People have seen evidence of Donald's demanding
false investigations of the Bidens be started by
the Ukrainian President in exchange for already
allocated by Congress 1/2 a bill in anti-tank
'javelins', but not the unreturned voicemails

detailing his desires for the same 'quid pro quo'
by him to other nations, here's some.  The Donald,
'Hi President of Ghana, I've heard you have some
hellified kool-aid, if you investigate the Bidens
we'll buy 100's of tons, awaiting your call.'

'Yo, yo, yo, President of Liechtenstein, just
calling to let you know if you liechten the Bidens
and find some dirt on them, we'll buy a hundred gross
of your steins, this is time sensitive, top secret,
so get back to us a.s.a.p., pppppllllleeeeeaaassse?'

''Sup, President of Guyana, must be hot in Africa,
too bad for you, all kidding aside, I hear you guys
have the best kool-aid to die for, if you investigate
the Bidens and find dirt on them we'll buy 1/4 of a
bill worth.  Limited time offer, bro, sooooo holla.'

'President of Hungary, I've heard you guys are always
Hungary, so, if you want a 1000 tons of food 'b' alls you
have to do is investigate the Bidens, find dirt on them
and provide it to the Steve Bannon set-up Hungarian fox
news who'll broadcast it globally over the next year.'

The atrocities of it all is all the people can say.  Does
this feel like a Greek comedy/tragedy to anyone else?  A
quickie impeachment to cover-up the bigger Russiagate one
that indicts the whole of the republican conspiracy, just in
time for vlad, etc., to hack our next presidential election?
Hello, my name is         and I live in           .  I'm calling my (Rep./Sen.) to share my support for Trump's first impeachment (that has been going on for many months already), over his organized crimes him and his campaign did; which resulted in many convictions already.  Can I count on you to move with speed and purpose to defend our democracy and hold Trump accountable by telling everyone the first impeachment process must be continued with all haste?  For it's much more egregious in terms of crimes committed, etc., so, it's far more likely to result in impeachemnt; whereas the new impeachment process is more of a 'he said, he said' thing, where one whistleblower's truths are contradicted by numerous republican liars- and probably won't result in actual impeachment.  Proof, "Moscow Mitch"'s playing at possible support of the new impeachment process is a clear indication that the republicans are certain it will fail.  Then, even if Nancy 'Chamberlain' Pelosi allows the original one to restart, or get most support, it will not be completed in the House before 11-2020, the Presidential election.  Then the dinos will have successfully re-installed RumputiN/vlad-the-impaler into the Blackhouse (by conspiring with the illegal invisible coup, Russian, Gov't, global hackers, wikileaks, Assange, etc.); just like they did in 2016.  We must stop this by having full force behind the original impeachment process; now!  Thank you for your time.   reality
Tala  Jun 2017
Abyss
Tala Jun 2017
Dad,
I am no longer your little girl
you can no longer protect me
not from the monsters within.

In a black hole you see me falling
In dark corners curling,
In the bottom of oceans sailing;
storms stonewalling.

Dad, you might think I am thralled -
But I tell you!

In my bed
I am appalling, trawling
reaching
for something to grasp
trying to calm myself down
Shoving the memories back.

Fighting the demons.
I see them
sprawling across
me
my dreams
my lungs
my THOUGHTS..
    my thoughts
          my thoughts...

DAD!!

I am betrayed
by my own mind...
          my body
          is REBELLING against me...

Despite the mountains
I trained
to carry
above my shoulders...

Some days -
Some days it feels
I am skinned alive...

One breeze of air
is enough to run sirens
alerting a world of
A BILLION neurons

Leaving me
stranded
agonised
looking for shelter,
wishing I can
crawl back
to my mother's womb
    sit, curl, and hold my legs -
    grasp the umbilical cord
    hear her heartbeat
1... 2...
Breath... In... Out...

Dear Dad,
don't you worry.
You raised a strong girl.
patiently she learnt -
how to beautifully braid
her fears and tears.

Your little girl
learnt how to play-
with the monsters nested in the head....
and the monsters under the bed.... into poetic ink
and art on the wall
she transformed them all.

She is a survivor, who copes

That said...

Every now and then
in my own bubble
you'll see me
slipping
in my favourite corner
sitting
unconsciously
graves for my unborn children
digging
not seeing a point for
living.

Deep inside
I will be silently screaming
I am brave
I am brave
But I am
slightly cursed
scarred
wishing I was still
your little girl
evolove Apr 2021
I used to think comets were shooting stars falling. Til I grew to understand how our earth was *******. Oder out of chaos. The Masons are stonewalling. But the truth is your true calling. The worship of Cain has left us.
barely abael.
and crawling..
Christian. End times.
Messianic Don found tarnished appeal
trumpeted bluster thwarted
with muted (hip hip hooray) Democratic zeal
played (on microscale) like quashed
ill fated braggadocio big deal

bombast, sans General George Armstrong
Custer's last stand,
viz Little Bighorn, achilles heel,
where Native Americans
showed deadly steel

against cocksure doodling
haughtiness didst conceal
Yankee sited in cross hairs,
who got comeuppance,
whence his notorious
reputation did never heal,

thus markedly high light
ting (albeit in deadly fashion) might
whooped, undermined, and
served just desserts,
when forces of the Lakota, Northern Cheyenne,
and Arapaho tribes did unite

defending their turf against
7th Cavalry Regiment of the
United States, mauled as ****** sight,
which justified comeuppance,
and whipped up white

settlers fury like an inferno doth ignite
combustible material showing
no mercy toward "red men"
unleashing brutal, short
and nasty genocidal spite

long a tragic footnote in history
proves tummy at hefty price
that present swaggering presidential chieftain
more'n halfway thru administration thrice
occasions brought third "shut down"
(the first time in more than 40 years)

during his opprobrious term,
now got meted "no dice"
cuz commander in chief usurped, provoked,
and kickstarted retaliatory actions, I.C.E.
suspect, where staunch stonewalling tactics
unexpectedly found paunchy big boy lice

sensed to shame, name and blame Congress
i.e. as he ****** forward power,
and hood did launch
bully tactics doth evince,
how he does not play "nice"
demanding five billion dollars for

pet project wall barring Mexicans
(and other asylum seekers south
of the border) did not entice
unanimous concurrence thus sets device
sieve ness roundly shows
Trump doth need strong cussed hard advice!
Satsih Verma Jun 2018
Like for Terra,
the goddess of the earth―
I will leave everything to you.

Hot legs run,
run for the sea of shame,
to wash the holy guilts.

It was a holocaust―
stonewalling to elicit,
the number of dead bodies.

Dark circles under
your eyes. I love them―
for the sake of darkness.

Prepare the swan
song for once, the blasts
were ready to encircle me.

— The End —