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Sahil Sharma Aug 2018
You are a sailor if life is a vast ocean..
Here sail-n-surf,very thrilling notion..

Heart does trade with silly emotion
Desires ditch reality,if you lack devotion

Trusting too early is not so very wise..
People turn strangers in their uprise...

Be an artist not the tyrant of ur life
Anger at its apogee, cut like a knife

In dejection time,even silence is noise
Enduring other's hatred is a better choice

Speech is razor-sharp,can easily slice
Before making a decision,think twice

Eyes turn coy when the truth is caught
Just keep it simple n filter ur thought

Like weather, experiences are cool n hot
Hardwork is perennial but luck is not

Deeds are examined,so keep the token
Progress is still when hopes are broken

Pain is felt when own soul is shaken
Just believe in God when all is taken

Pearls come out during ebb at the shore..
Money gives gold but manners shine more

Success is urgency,patience is the cure
Nothing stays forever,expiry is for sure

Life has its fragrance,life has its taste
Laughter is healthy, worry is waste

Love is water, dilutes colour n caste
Polish your soul,skin goes ashes at last
Megan Sherman Jul 2018
In age of old, in time that pass like tides,
When Prometheus lived and Lo! He strived,
As thirsting for Heaven, he climbed its hills, and trees,
Clenching at the Sun, its spark he seize.

The leaves, they warmed, turn bright and evergreen,
As Prometheus, he to fierce fire wean,
Swell lips sip lightning, of the nascent noon,
And divine heat from his hand duly shone,
To Roses, who sing, uprise and sweet rebel,
In bloom to conquer, vanquish concrete hell.

A wish for fire, fulfilled, angered Zeus,
He thought the fire be given, not to choose,
That excellence with fire, laurel his,
"A crime against the Gods Prometheus did."
For glory of the light from Heaven sent,
The hour of his favour now gone, spent.

Smite down the hero, tear ambition down,
Old Zeus, but young ambition wears your crown,
For daring, striving why not badge of God?
The Promethean vision all time hath applaud,
It art of upper world, belong in sky,
Praise Prometheus as fire goes roving by.

Mind gilded by the golden, whirling thread,
You seize from Heaven, through the Earth now spread,
Bringing hope to hearts, life to the dead,
As for forgiveness of the Gods you plead,
For an uncriminal act and sublime deed,
The arrogance of Zeus? Need not to feed.
Andrew Dursley Sep 2015
Zikketmen Uprise

Sillpy glopin honey drop slowly dripping in a gooey flop.Fropling trolippy skitterbug bleeringly rupoling the door

Dewy molifropinin weterings kladet in holimeter lines as criggol meets the Zikketmen.

But vasping ants jig molky polky on the derbholkpin as if chinnyzilcobble.

Meanwhile the phettering teeblers sang joop, joop, joop and ***** crackle flew over in the feetumleftumground.

The crumbwarblers screamed " hooji folpityquif bollp" but the zikketmen knew it was a lie.

"Who are you ? ", said the phettering teeblers as they oxiety the suggits.

Huge swarms of vasping squiding ants who were oblivious to the drama grigged the blodderpad and swung it violently towards the skitterbugs just as they finished their meal.

" I fooled the zikketmen" said the chief teebler.

But just then ***** crackle landed a heavy blow to the chiefs vast head and dripping masses of joolping green blood poured from his brainincasementholderthingy.

As if by magic zeery eyed cooljinmen had appeared in fighting mood.

Yelping ground slippits burrowed deep in to the sludge pockets and closed their eyes in fear.

Andrew Dursley 2015
This is what I like to call improvised poetry. I start off with a vague idea of the story then record myself adlibbing as I go. Not sure if it is the right sort of thing for this site but I hope someone likes it.
Many a green isle needs must be
In the deep wide sea of Misery,
Or the mariner, worn and wan,
Never thus could voyage on—
Day and night, and night and day,
Drifting on his dreary way,
With the solid darkness black
Closing round his vessel’s track:
Whilst above the sunless sky,
Big with clouds, hangs heavily,
And behind the tempest fleet
Hurries on with lightning feet,

He is ever drifted on
O’er the unreposing wave
To the haven of the grave.
What, if there no friends will greet;
What, if there no heart will meet
His with love’s impatient beat;
Wander wheresoe’er he may,
Can he dream before that day
To find refuge from distress
In friendship’s smile, in love’s caress?
Then ’twill wreak him little woe
Whether such there be or no:
Senseless is the breast, and cold,
Which relenting love would fold;
Bloodless are the veins and chill
Which the pulse of pain did fill;
Every little living nerve
That from bitter words did swerve
Round the tortured lips and brow,
Are like sapless leaflets now
Frozen upon December’s bough.

On the beach of a northern sea
Which tempests shake eternally,
As once the wretch there lay to sleep,
Lies a solitary heap,
One white skull and seven dry bones,
On the margin of the stones,
Where a few grey rushes stand,
Boundaries of the sea and land:
Nor is heard one voice of wail
But the sea-mews, as they sail
O’er the billows of the gale;
Or the whirlwind up and down
Howling, like a slaughtered town,
When a king in glory rides
Through the pomp and fratricides:
Those unburied bones around
There is many a mournful sound;
There is no lament for him,
Like a sunless vapour, dim,
Who once clothed with life and thought
What now moves nor murmurs not.

Ay, many flowering islands lie
In the waters of wide Agony:
To such a one this morn was led,
My bark by soft winds piloted:
’Mid the mountains Euganean
I stood listening to the paean
With which the legioned rooks did hail
The sun’s uprise majestical;
Gathering round with wings all ****,
Through the dewy mist they soar
Like gray shades, till the eastern heaven
Bursts, and then, as clouds of even,
Flecked with fire and azure, lie
In the unfathomable sky,
So their plumes of purple grain,
Starred with drops of golden rain,
Gleam above the sunlight woods,
As in silent multitudes
On the morning’s fitful gale
Through the broken mist they sail,
And the vapours cloven and gleaming
Follow, down the dark steep streaming,
Till all is bright, and clear, and still,
Round the solitary hill.

Beneath is spread like a green sea
The waveless plain of Lombardy,
Bounded by the vaporous air,
Islanded by cities fair;
Underneath Day’s azure eyes
Ocean’s nursling, Venice, lies,
A peopled labyrinth of walls,
Amphitrite’s destined halls,
Which her hoary sire now paves
With his blue and beaming waves.
Lo! the sun upsprings behind,
Broad, red, radiant, half-reclined
On the level quivering line
Of the waters crystalline;
And before that chasm of light,
As within a furnace bright,
Column, tower, and dome, and spire,
Shine like obelisks of fire,
Pointing with inconstant motion
From the altar of dark ocean
To the sapphire-tinted skies;
As the flames of sacrifice
From the marble shrines did rise,
As to pierce the dome of gold
Where Apollo spoke of old.

Sea-girt City, thou hast been
Ocean’s child, and then his queen;
Now is come a darker day,
And thou soon must be his prey,
If the power that raised thee here
Hallow so thy watery bier.
A less drear ruin then than now,
With thy conquest-branded brow
Stooping to the slave of slaves
From thy throne, among the waves
Wilt thou be, when the sea-mew
Flies, as once before it flew,
O’er thine isles depopulate,
And all is in its ancient state,
Save where many a palace gate
With green sea-flowers overgrown
Like a rock of Ocean’s own,
Topples o’er the abandoned sea
As the tides change sullenly.
The fisher on his watery way,
Wandering at the close of day,
Will spread his sail and seize his oar
Till he pass the gloomy shore,
Lest thy dead should, from their sleep
Bursting o’er the starlight deep,
Lead a rapid masque of death
O’er the waters of his path.

Those who alone thy towers behold
Quivering through aereal gold,
As I now behold them here,
Would imagine not they were
Sepulchres, where human forms,
Like pollution-nourished worms,
To the corpse of greatness cling,
Murdered, and now mouldering:
But if Freedom should awake
In her omnipotence and shake
From the Celtic Anarch’s hold
All the keys of dungeons cold,
Where a hundred cities lie
Chained like thee, ingloriously,
Thou and all thy sister band
Might adorn this sunny land,
Twining memories of old time
With new virtues more sublime;
If not, perish thou ldering:
But if Freedom should awake
In her omnipotence and shake
From the Celtic Anarch’s hold
All the keys of dungeons cold,
Where a hundred cities lie
Chained like thee, ingloriously,
Thou and all thy sister band
Might adorn this sunny land,
Twining memories of old time
With new virtues more sublime;
If not, perish thou and they!—
Clouds which stain truth’s rising day
By her sun consumed away—
Earth can spare ye; while like flowers,
In the waste of years and hours,
From your dust new nations spring
With more kindly blossoming.

Perish—let there only be
Floating o’er thy heartless sea
As the garment of thy sky
Clothes the world immortally,
One remembrance, more sublime
Than the tattered pall of time,
Which scarce hides thy visage wan;—
That a tempest-cleaving Swan
Of the sons of Albion,
Driven from his ancestral streams
By the might of evil dreams,
Found a nest in thee; and Ocean
Welcomed him with such emotion
That its joy grew his, and sprung
From his lips like music flung
O’er a mighty thunder-fit,
Chastening terror:—what though yet
Poesy’s unfailing River,
Which through Albion winds forever
Lashing with melodious wave
Many a sacred Poet’s grave,
Mourn its latest nursling fled?
What though thou with all thy dead
Scarce can for this fame repay
Aught thine own? oh, rather say
Though thy sins and slaveries foul
Overcloud a sunlike soul?
As the ghost of Homer clings
Round Scamander’s wasting springs;
As divinest Shakespeare’s might
Fills Avon and the world with light
Like omniscient power which he
Imaged ’mid mortality;
As the love from Petrarch’s urn,
Yet amid yon hills doth burn,
A quenchless lamp by which the heart
Sees things unearthly;—so thou art,
Mighty spirit—so shall be
The City that did refuge thee.

Lo, the sun floats up the sky
Like thought-winged Liberty,
Till the universal light
Seems to level plain and height;
From the sea a mist has spread,
And the beams of morn lie dead
On the towers of Venice now,
Like its glory long ago.
By the skirts of that gray cloud
Many-domed Padua proud
Stands, a peopled solitude,
’Mid the harvest-shining plain,
Where the peasant heaps his grain
In the garner of his foe,
And the milk-white oxen slow
With the purple vintage strain,
Heaped upon the creaking wain,
That the brutal Celt may swill
Drunken sleep with savage will;
And the sickle to the sword
Lies unchanged, though many a lord,
Like a **** whose shade is poison,
Overgrows this region’s foison,
Sheaves of whom are ripe to come
To destruction’s harvest-home:
Men must reap the things they sow,
Force from force must ever flow,
Or worse; but ’tis a bitter woe
That love or reason cannot change
The despot’s rage, the slave’s revenge.

Padua, thou within whose walls
Those mute guests at festivals,
Son and Mother, Death and Sin,
Played at dice for Ezzelin,
Till Death cried, “I win, I win!”
And Sin cursed to lose the wager,
But Death promised, to assuage her,
That he would petition for
Her to be made Vice-Emperor,
When the destined years were o’er,
Over all between the Po
And the eastern Alpine snow,
Under the mighty Austrian.
She smiled so as Sin only can,
And since that time, ay, long before,
Both have ruled from shore to shore,—
That incestuous pair, who follow
Tyrants as the sun the swallow,
As Repentance follows Crime,
And as changes follow Time.

In thine halls the lamp of learning,
Padua, now no more is burning;
Like a meteor, whose wild way
Is lost over the grave of day,
It gleams betrayed and to betray:
Once remotest nations came
To adore that sacred flame,
When it lit not many a hearth
On this cold and gloomy earth:
Now new fires from antique light
Spring beneath the wide world’s might;
But their spark lies dead in thee,
Trampled out by Tyranny.
As the Norway woodman quells,
In the depth of piny dells,
One light flame among the brakes,
While the boundless forest shakes,
And its mighty trunks are torn
By the fire thus lowly born:
The spark beneath his feet is dead,
He starts to see the flames it fed
Howling through the darkened sky
With a myriad tongues victoriously,
And sinks down in fear: so thou,
O Tyranny, beholdest now
Light around thee, and thou hearest
The loud flames ascend, and fearest:
Grovel on the earth; ay, hide
In the dust thy purple pride!

Noon descends around me now:
’Tis the noon of autumn’s glow,
When a soft and purple mist
Like a vapourous amethyst,
Or an air-dissolved star
Mingling light and fragrance, far
From the curved horizon’s bound
To the point of Heaven’s profound,
Fills the overflowing sky;
And the plains that silent lie
Underneath the leaves unsodden
Where the infant Frost has trodden
With his morning-winged feet,
Whose bright print is gleaming yet;
And the red and golden vines,
Piercing with their trellised lines
The rough, dark-skirted wilderness;
The dun and bladed grass no less,
Pointing from this hoary tower
In the windless air; the flower
Glimmering at my feet; the line
Of the olive-sandalled Apennine
In the south dimly islanded;
And the Alps, whose snows are spread
High between the clouds and sun;
And of living things each one;
And my spirit which so long
Darkened this swift stream of song,—
Interpenetrated lie
By the glory of the sky:
Be it love, light, harmony,
Odour, or the soul of all
Which from Heaven like dew doth fall,
Or the mind which feeds this verse
Peopling the lone universe.

Noon descends, and after noon
Autumn’s evening meets me soon,
Leading the infantine moon,
And that one star, which to her
Almost seems to minister
Half the crimson light she brings
From the sunset’s radiant springs:
And the soft dreams of the morn
(Which like winged winds had borne
To that silent isle, which lies
Mid remembered agonies,
The frail bark of this lone being)
Pass, to other sufferers fleeing,
And its ancient pilot, Pain,
Sits beside the helm again.

Other flowering isles must be
In the sea of Life and Agony:
Other spirits float and flee
O’er that gulf: even now, perhaps,
On some rock the wild wave wraps,
With folded wings they waiting sit
For my bark, to pilot it
To some calm and blooming cove,
Where for me, and those I love,
May a windless bower be built,
Far from passion, pain, and guilt,
In a dell mid lawny hills,
Which the wild sea-murmur fills,
And soft sunshine, and the sound
Of old forests echoing round,
And the light and smell divine
Of all flowers that breathe and shine:
We may live so happy there,
That the Spirits of the Air,
Envying us, may even entice
To our healing Paradise
The polluting multitude;
But their rage would be subdued
By that clime divine and calm,
And the winds whose wings rain balm
On the uplifted soul, and leaves
Under which the bright sea heaves;
While each breathless interval
In their whisperings musical
The inspired soul supplies
With its own deep melodies;
And the love which heals all strife
Circling, like the breath of life,
All things in that sweet abode
With its own mild brotherhood:
They, not it, would change; and soon
Every sprite beneath the moon
Would repent its envy vain,
And the earth grow young again.
Rockie  Mar 2015
Watches
Rockie Mar 2015
Planes crashing
Towers exploding
News covering
Tears forming
Men falling
Videos created
Uprise roaring
The whole world
Watches
Waits
In baited breath
Death all around
It started with a hijacking
Or maybe a bit before
But we are resilient
Brave
*We shall NOT be brought down screaming
I am currently studying a poem based of off 9/11 and formed this in my head while reading it. Although it doesn't quite capture the true emotion by this particular event, I hope it gets that across.
Lea Loveit Oct 2013
We wait all year
For a time that leaves us quick.
And what we fear
It consumes us till we’re sick

We meet
We talk
Before we make the big leap
We must slow down and walk

Caring for one another
Forgetting about “never again”
All the good feeling we rather
Than just a heart to lend

Up all night just to talk to someone
Hours a day
And we’re never done
We connect, so there's so much to say

Secrets now told
For so many reasons
Although you love the cold
I love and miss the summer breathing.
Words so real
In this moment in time, ill find the words to say
The words that I feel
Before you leave me today.
I swore i'd never write again. it's what happens when you have feelings you don't want to share. i swore..... i'd never pick up the pen.  its happening again.
Look at the news
How is it the news
When they provide all the clues
Got ya eyes glued to the tube
Knowing they lying to you
Gofund me account
Made over 3 . 8 million just
Just for some.stupid ****
Getting shot by a supposed terrorist
Dont ya see its all publicity
Our enemy is right in front of our eyes
It aint no surprise
But yet you the minorities getting thrown in jail before the sunrise
But theres no uprise
Muthaphukkas is puppets it makes me sick to my stomach
People pay attention to most un important ****
But them when you point out important **** they gotta problem with it
Make up ya minds hypocrites
Are yall going to be down are what?
Cuz america finna bust her gut
She pregnate through evil strain n pain
That mankind has done
Look atthe world take a good look
Its over the sinister forces are already here
Hell they been here
Look around you again
What do you see do younsee what i see
If not this convo cant go no more
Yall muthaphukkaz dont know war
Look at it its right here
Rights being taken hearts being shaken
Why cuz they tell you too
The problem reaction solution works wonders no wonder why poeple
Keep givin up their rights to fight
Political structures get stronger
And we the poor get weaker
The greatest trick they say the devil pulled
Was believing he doesnt exist well?
Look around you *******
The very men who send your children off to die in war
Are the same men that tell you they love you and your service
But then vanishes the compensatiin
When youspent years to reserve it
They dont deserve **** i say riot the white house and that lady liberty *****
Til she touches a laminated casket
Each bullet for each name ya know
This aint no drunk speak this is sober talk
Im already marked
Im like jesus fool im a revolutionary at heart
None could split me apart even if they had an axe im.still talkin ****
Til im dead call me sound hail mary
Ill be in the back sippin hennessey providin pain to my enemies
***** so when ya see bewar ya in for a scare
And one last thing **** the police **** the elite im the true og mobster style
This chronicles of a broken child
**** the elite we the mob robbin deep puttin any to sleep no need to compete
Makin souls obsolete as i mash from the power invested in me
Hank Roberts  Mar 2016
Uprise
Hank Roberts Mar 2016
the wind pulled as my
companion tonight. it ain't
blistering cold, either way,
I never fold,
no matter how old
I grow. I'm to be bold,
obstruct and hold.
All that's told, all is sold.
I even thought the moon
was full. Then I cried wool
that only a fool could
burn with coal.
Be yourself,don't imitate
Find out who you are;meditate

Its easier to be someone you're
  not in order to fit in,but there is
     No fulfillment in that,life isn't
         About impressing the
             Crowd.  
           At the end of it all,crowds
       Will always be there to
    applaud both your uprise and downfall,
       So what's there to really live
         For in the crowd?
           Do what fulfills you as a person,you won't live here twice.
   Do what makes you happy,
      You deserve that.
"Insist on yourself,never imitate" - Ralph Waldo Emerson
its the rip comin' up

with much reps i keeps my eyes on the prize

g'yeah i improvised on a uprise

cuttin' all the dead weight competition

my ammunition keep suckas in suspension

or lock down when i come around i clown

with the homies and the homettes

got the wet wet to get my brain set

for a drive-by suckas slippin' 40 sippin' 4 dippin' hittin'

multiple switches laughin' at these

punk sons of ******* unload my clips

throw there bodies in the ditches

cut off they ***** n leave it in they mouth

so they know the south

aint no joke loc cuz we smoke

suckas til they wesley snipes color brothers

like me bound for the penitentiary

its a gang were all the low-lifes hang

but things don't ever change

im trapped inside a maze with much blunder

i could've have been successful maybe

if the hood didn't take me under!!!


so many after me cuz we enticed to the same

epitome rap is mind my mind is rap

can't shake the flaks

see my homie in the caddy rollin' with tha **** daddy

gangsta mack kickin' drag to all the hoes with big *****

skipped hardknock classes

went straight to hoods college gainin' knowledge

graduated with honors

from the big timers tellin' me how to make a move

and don't get caught up in the groove

u gots to play it smooth

and be vigilant on ya closest friends

cuz they'll pretend to be ya homies but after ya dividends

thinkin' this bank roll they gone spend? but i lends

my lue to no one only a gun

up in ya grill piece thats the only peace

i see you laying and becomin' one with death

heartbeats slow no hards breath

when i commence to ****** know ya never heard of

me cuz i strike unexpectedly im makin' money

by the ton thats on the one son

ull catch me rollin' in a pimped out 97 honda

maybe id be better off dead if the hood

wouldn't take me under!!!
Micheal Wolf Jul 2016
If you go down to Westminster today you're in for a big surprise
If you can stand the stench, you will not believe your eyes
For all the MPs who have lied and lied have all quit before the people uprise
For this is the week that parliament collapses.

******* it time for the Blairites, who don't know who to back for their best
******* it time for the Tories, as Daves walked away from his mess
The Labour deputy is such a coward and like the chancellor has lost his voice
Because they realise the people no longer want them.

So if you go south to parliament you best beware of knives
Labour have turned into Tories and only Jezza survives.
They think they can push him off a cliff, more chance of Dave being stuck in a pig
The week the war came back to haunt the Blairites!

But if go down to tip you hat and stand against Corbyn
Beware back home they petittion to do you knees like you did his
Your voters whom you have ignored and ignored are looking to throw you out the door
So grab your coat and don't forget your sister!!!!

But one more thing if you think this is cut and drawn
Remember Farage, Boris Gove and the irritable bowel one
None have so far grown a pair, they want to give someone else the blame
Because half the country has changed its mind again!!!
Written in haste
People gather around
To take a pic from sky to concrete
Ground
All astound and hopes of someone
To drown
Their "like" buttons
Make sure every angle is to
Perfection
Scared to face rejection social media is
A design toxication
Minus education
Perfection over imperfection has
Become our
Destination
We want people to wooo us when we're down
Give a bunch of thoughts to people
Youve never met
I a poet a philosopher a healer SM a drug and the companies in charge
Are the dealers
Leeched into your brains
Electromagnetic waves that leave ya
Drained
Soul stained can't really wash away the pain
Only if you stand in the rain and let mother nature reign
Inhale the oxygen from the universes
Breath
With every step and hearts that beats as the chills crept
Your itching or jonin' trying to reach the phone
To check the "status" of a post that's long gone
Social media has made us normal
In an abnormal
Society it breeds jealousy hate and
Envy
Real turned into fake relationship and
Friendship
Nowadays you can't even say hi without someone
Peepin' their eyes
In their cellular devices looking for the nicest
Puttin' up fake images and we're pillaged
By a village of
corporations
More soever we have more folks going to therapy Over the
internet than over common problems
Such as domestic
Violence I'm trying to form an anti-media alliance
With so much denial and the uprise of
Violence
So think go outside nature's real they society ain't
Unplug yourself from the matrix cuz
They stayin' playin' tricks
#RIPhumanity

— The End —