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Kiara Hoxie Jan 22
Under your gaze I was lovely
Like the bright sun rising over the gray clouds
You filled the sky with shining stars above me
You promised me there was no doubts

But now your arrogant boasting crushes me
I become so insignificant and small
Like a blade of grass flattened by a falling tree
Now I don't recognize you at all

The insults and jabs are plenty
Though you search for those old stars
But my night sky is black and empty
As is my shrinking heart
Contains More Than Kernel Of Truthful

alienation, expulsion, ostracization
     from body politick
     if member of society resistant,
     indifferent, adamant, et cetera
despite differentiation
     (across the figurative board)
     intolerance opposing ethos,
     asper unspoken social graces extant

(albeit manifested amidst diverse
     livingsocial variations) within
rubric of global civilizations primal,
     oral, nonverbal, et cetera codas

     automatically decreeing manual Kant
instilled from cradle
     to grave impossible mission scant
acceptance toward recalcitrant
     challenging precepts via rave and/or rant

thus when born into whatever culture,
     steeped with historical paradigm
one can protest superficial nigh cities
     til ivy blue in the face,
     or try to concoct a feeble rhyme
but culture club richly identified, endowed,
     brewed from heritage long time
ago until the cows come home to roost

hence creative pursuits one direction
     can turn to swiftly tailor
if harried styled
     with perceived restrictive parameters
     and cuss like a sailor
     with song and dance routine
(perhaps appearing on Dancing
     With The Stars), or

choosing subterfuge viz
     writing nefarious malware code, wheremailer
     daemons spring to life, when computer code
     following infinitely jesting illogic causing exhaler

(case in point - myself, hoot
     ends tubby humorous) as yukon gauge
yet another Internet end user might experience
     greater reason to rage
against the machine before
     turning rogue gushing renegade, stage
jing anarchy against disparity
     with equal pay, cuz a working wage

aint nuttin boot peanuts
so if strong willed, hook hairs
     if you appear like a putz
just realize doggerel
     of this pooch iz gaseous
     boot utterly without guts
and hangs around the junkyard
     with other nerdy mutts.
ConnectHook Dec 2016
I, ConnectHook
DEMAND recognition as The Most Boring Poet of all.
You’ll never touch me so don’t even TRY.

Don’t even bother dipping your quill again,
you mere drip on the mildewed scroll of antediluvian parchment,
you cuneiform Cunégonde, you proto-Canaanite pottery fragment,
you keyboarding failed clown
and archeological relic unworthy of preservation
in a third-rate underfunded Albanian museum…

I, and I alone, dragged myself up from the protoplasmic slime
to BORE you.
I transitioned from amphibian to anthropoid
before your mama even MET the postman.
I stood upright upon the ****** battleground of evolutionary struggle
and SELECTED MYSELF (naturally).
Now pass that banana right over here.
Nothing short of perfection
as she primps in her hand held mirror
She is the best of the best
No one can compare
just ask her
Her boasting is legendary
She fails to give credit where it is due
and believes she is better at everything
Not one person can ever “measure up” in her book
She scoffs at the very idea
She is constantly gloating
like the cat that ate the canary
Never able to admit a mistake
because she’s never wrong
If cornered she’ll just glare in your face
and simply state that you are mistaken
or confused or even jealous of her
Should would literally die
before ever admitting
anything that would change
her self -imposed “top dog” status
Swallowing her pride
Will definitely be the death of her
I was born with a pencil in my hand,
I've been drawing since then

I sketch ideas,
Sculpt visions,
Paint dreams

Imagination, tapped, in my mind,
Creativity greater than any higher power

You try doing what I do,
You'll be lost
In the enigma of my talent,
My ability exceeds yours

Just try,
I see you coming,
My canvas and i are ready,
I am one with a brush

— The End —