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Norman Crane Apr 27
someone once said,
a negative mind will never give you a positive life,
but that is itself a negative thought,
which must be the product of a negative mind,
if it is true, it's false,
and if it is false, it's true,
but what identifies a princess is not a tiara but a shoe,
or, positively said,
a negative mind will give you a positive life,
for to live uncritically
is indistinguishable from being dead
Theanm Ankh Mar 21
I just think
You might have not
What I meant to say
In the way I said it
Written very late at night
karly codr Mar 5
i have a bad habit
where i talk really bad on myself
and i never notice when i do it,
but i never realized how toxic
i can be
to myself
so anyway i was in band this morning and i was talking about how i'm not **** band in college because i **** at playing trombone and there's this kid i talk to sometimes but not on a daily basis and when he heard me saying that about myself he was like "if you ****** at trombone you wouldn't be in the varsity band. you need to stop talking bad on yourself, i've heard you play trombone, i've heard you sing, you don't **** at all, you need to stop saying these things about yourself" and then my band director chimed in and said "you never give yourself enough credit for the things you can do. you've improved so much over the past 4 years but i don't think you realize it" i promise i'm not crying rn (sorry that was long)
Ahmad Attr Feb 12
Such a shame, the food’s gone cold
In your golden dishes
Too much infidelity, it’s getting old
Inside the house of the riches

Such a shame,  your boy James
Brought dirt to your family’s name
High on ****** as the younger sister claims
Such a shame, as she lays down by the poolside
reflects a little on her family of lies
But finds peace at thought of her jewellery and party nights
Such a shame, the Misses dances alone in the ballroom
As her husband smokes another cigarette in bedroom
Of the mistress who enticed him with her French perfume

Such a shame, the food’s gone cold
In your golden dishes
Too much infidelity, it’s getting old
Inside the house of the riches

But do they taste good?
Do they scream?
When you purify their souls
For you chains of silver and gold
The little children stuck in your teeth
The spoons and knives of bones
That your gauged out of their limpid skin
Their tears must have made a strong champagne and gin
But do they taste good?
When you gulp down their dreams
When you wince at their mud faces
Going back to your fractured glass house
Do they quiver? Do they scream?
Ahmad Attr Feb 9
Little girl get in the rush
Pink blush and get on the bus
Stay shush and get your dreams crushed

Don’t stuff in, the things that don’t matter
There’s no way up so burn down the ladder

Put on the lipstick, take your pretty brush
Shut up, even if it is sad, even if it hurts
Stay hush, and that’s how you will live lush

Locked in the castle, now wait for your prince
Bow down to him, the moment he’s in

Little girl get in the rush
Pink blush and your crinoline skirt
Stay shush or else you will get crushed
This is a female counterpart to Xylophone Medley, tackling sexism, misogyny and toxic gender roles.
Ahmad Attr Feb 8
Little boy wake up from your dreams
Your woollen world is not what it seems
Your paper dolls are going to come after you
the monsters are taking forms
from the crayon paintings you drew

Little boy wake up from your dreams
Your crochet clothes are going to rip at the seams
Your plastic toys are to going be forgotten
The ribboned curtains will unveil
A colourless world oh so rotten

And when you go to sleep make sure
To shut your windows and you flowery door
Cover your ears with your hands firmly
Don’t listen to the sound in evil tone
‘’little boy stop playing with your xylophone’’

take off your navy sweater
Put on the armor and make your way
To the world of terror
Infiltrate the ****** castle
Save your distressed damsel

Little boy wake up from your dreams
Your times of boyhood have reached their extremes
You won’t sleep under starry ceilings no more
Be prepared for the world that is calling you
Filled with people whose glass hearts can’t be mend with glue

Be a man, right to the bones
Little boy, stop playing with your xylophone
The colorful splendor of childhood slowly dissolving into mundane adult life
xjf Feb 5
Call it cringe
call it bad
call it great
or whatever you want
Hell, rip pages out
and make your notes
mail me my own poems
back with critiques for all I care
Just know that I don't care; about subject
spelling or any of it
Because I swear
on all that I hold dear
if I have to hear
"that's not a real word"
one more ******* time
I'll lose my ******* mind
Kendra Dec 2020
He kissed with his eyes,
And I acted surprised,
As if my world hadn't crumbled
Half an hour ago.

I kissed with my smile,
And we stood for a while,
As butterflies bumbled
In the crystal snow.

Your touch still lingered,
And you twiddled your fingers,
As birds mumbled,
you love him so.

The chirps slowly died
with our lips and eyes,
As we stumbled
slowly home.
Joseph Sopholaus Dec 2020
Sine arte
A satire against modernity in the arts

O modern beast our captive arts release,
The laws of Nature wished your reign to cease.
What beauties does this modern art restores
By turning vestals young to Russian ******.
How strange the painter draws his new reforms 5
Reducing Nature’s shapes to foggy forms.
All, I may add, by rambling thoughts conceived
If Nature’s order’s razed the goal’s achieved.
‘‘What then?’’ A tasteless judge if dared to ask,
To which the answer wears pretentious mask: 10
‘‘Dear Sir! ’Tis art, all ***** mere symbols made,
And *****, though crude, denotes the father’s shade’’
Go Man admire the fruits of twisted state,
Interpret ***** as something deeply great.
Let ***** Cupid stab his precious heart 15
To make our poesy more interesting art.
Let Cyrus wreck the might of Shakespeare’s throne,
And use her tongue to lick his hallowed stone.
Thus, give the verses blank to frenzied beasts,
Or let Rihanna burn Miltonic seats. 20
A simple critic might her craft enjoy,
But witty minds oft do their gift employ.
New Cornus comes with broken tools to teach
Yet none can bear to hear postmoderns preach.
They mumble days upon the wage and race 25
For them the world’s a strife, that is the case.
Daniel Cuzzo Dec 2020
Another Realm of Hypocrisy
December 7, 2020

I asked a question,
the implications?
people are mad at me,
think I’m a joke or crazy,
call me unenlightened
as if with a few words
they’re better than me,
casually introduce
they’ve been to my goal
and still use that label
to characterize honesty
about NOT knowing
and asking for clarity.

Perhaps, what I asked
is NOT a possibility
and not believing in lies
is an awakened responsibility.
Yet predicting ONE who asks
will not move fast enough
to reach that impasse
is that really in your skillset?

And yet other “awakened”
believe it true, their wisdom
not necessarily less than you.
A friend sends:
“The ability to observe
without evaluating
is the highest form
of intelligence”

I’m new to spiritual groups
So far I’ve found them reinforcing
until, it seems they can’t agree
and point fingers just like in 3D
self-evaluate and compare
a question I wrote in my underwear
to their robust and rich life experience
that no one else has.

And that makes them right.
Believe we’re all God’s in the making
Believe that we’re close to winning gold
That’s what we’re told, positive reinforced
in our groups sharing love and light
where we have echo-chambers of insight
that should reflect the whole world
because we are the world:  connected.

Connection is a funny thing.
Some are convinced reading words
is pointless.
I wrote a nice introduction
The man said he was “just like me,”
I received an invite to
his welcome portal.
Then I had to schedule
a phone call.  Turns out,
the man said he never read:
he felt.

While I was busy jumping hoops
and this man was taking a dump
(I kid you not, he said it on the phone)
I had been doing so, with the impression
to GIVE the benefit of the doubt,
let him work his way out,
yet I showed some doubt
to his many proclamations
where I should have voiced
only affirmations.

When we talked he decided
I was not what he thought
but couldn’t say that
and told me to
“come back when
we can talk telepathically”
kicking me out of his portal
(but I’m sure it’s accidental).

You may say this guy IS NOT
spiritual.  So I’ll go on.
Next song:
I met someone in Arcturians group
Who was lonely, surrounded by
the unawakened.  I wrote poetry
in response and said
I’d befriend her.

Perhaps my pretty words
can be enough to satisfy
as twittering birds
but rhymes can work
counter clockwise.

SHE ALSO said,
she doesn’t read
Of course, it’s AFTER
I explain myself
in lengthy text
and she insists
to talk on video-call
which I abhorred
but for a friend’s sake
I was open and demure.

She ASKS me three questions
that I had ANSWERED
in the text I wrote before.
Surprised at the answer
she criticizes:
EXACTLY what I tried
to avoid.

SHALL I Go on?
Because there’s more.
We keep talking
she keeps guiding
I keep learning
and toeing her lines
as best I can.

She asks me for a reading,
worries about the details
I ask spirit and she doesn’t
like the answer
is angered that I’d ask
without her permission.

Perhaps she’s right
but nearly every night
she picks apart my flaws
reads my family through one story,
tells me every bit of darkness
I need to transmute to purple flames
and I was never asked for permission.

Is accepting a call permission?
How many rules do I have to follow?
How MANY times do they say
because when I do and it disagrees
with someone you get angry, say:
“you like to put your head under
the guillotine.”

So okay, now we’re back to Paris
during a VERY dark period
in their history.
And this allusion,
is something that I have to fix
inside me.

I ask a question,
say something unexpected
and I’m crashed on
by similar reactions
to my 3D counterparts.

Except it’s no ***** no farts
no ***** language at all
it’s all metaphysical
my LIGHT is more than
your LIGHT and we fight
the same way we all hated
how the unenlightened did.

Yes, it’s a brave new world
and we haven’t shaken off
the things we wish we had
and I’m happy to be one of them.

Because I’m not here to lie
and say I’m more than I am
you can try to prove I’m lesser
but there’s that internal lie detector
that yes, can’t be relied on all the time
but when there’s enough reason
I rhyme.

And that’s my “transmute”
to all you “New-Age” brutes.

We’ve certainly entered a new age
but those of us practicing meditation
in the light of the sun
better hope that light shines
all night long.
Because despite what they say
there WILL be night in the new world
and I won’t be one with innate blind spots
to everything and ANYTHING
that doesn’t satisfy me.

The New-Age distaste
is levels better than our human race
has climbed in the last century
but LOOK where we’re going.
If we’re to be creating NEW systems
MAKE SURE not to carry the old ones.
Make it true to what you espouse
and fill NOT just YOUR house
but others, even those “unworthy”
such as me:  with love light,
understanding and civility.
Otherwise, we’ll only half rise
to another realm of hypocrisy.

Defense of the Poem
December 7, 2020

I’m aware that I’m fresh
and don’t have enough stories
to fill even this lengthy poem
to completion
but I write it now to say:
prove me wrong.
Be the person you want
in your heroic songs
your namaste’s, crystals
and prayers to mother earth
should cater to how you view
If it’s connected, divine
spiritually wise, casually
walk on crooked spines
to straighten out
every little tic
of the body
as something just as good
worth exploring
we’ve NOT learned enough
don’t settle on the cusp
of this achievement
and leave nothing to do
but dance, husbands, wives
friends:  and shoe off
the rest of us.

And if you still want to relive
the feeling of meeting and knowing
everything good you need to embrace
-I’d like to find that out someday,
maybe it’s the case/ can happen.

WHAT would it be like to TRULY
touch a book and read its contents?
Would 30 hours of enjoyment
COMPOUND into ONE moment?
All the realizations, sensations
jumping up and down, crying, laughing
ALL HAPPEN:  at once?

Because then I think
many people may call it crazy
to see dancing, angry, happy
limbs all doing a different thing
when “reading” a book

Yes, perhaps it is a new world.
Keep reading by touch
and see what comments are posted.

Or perhaps NOT.  We’re above all that.
We can read and internalize the JOY,
NO EXPRESSIONS like a little girl or boy
because the LIGHT is within
and we’re 5D SWIMMING in it…
Or do we really swim?
Maybe it’s TOO slow,
perhaps enlist dolphins
unless we’re exercising:
are we MORPHING,
manifesting perfection,
or OUR idea of it?

What will we do with no jobs?
Barbeques, corn on the cobbs
parties, tree swings, technology
money distributed equitably?

Yes, maybe our job is to sire
the new generation and admire
this creation, feat of resistance
against the greedy darkness before
PRETEND like it’s no more
because WE’VE HAD enough
of the 3D world,
would like to think it’s all gone
but we’re the products and since
all of us are on it: some are clueless
to meditation, still with depression
are we leaving “saving” us
to the “humanoids” and “aliens?”
MANY WILL use that word at first.
Humanoids will get it easy.
Extra-terrestrials will get it worst.

Pleiadians did this millions of years ago
and we have no reason to fear
it’d be different.
Look at the gradient.
Is satisfaction dominant
or are we so tired
need unwinding
stave of finding
until next

Yes, we’re 1G haha
look at me, we know every G
brings a better copy of ourselves
let’s hope we’re not as faulty
as the old G’s, not as detrimental
to the cause we pushed for.

You might claim
after I’ve doubted our aim
our judgment
that I’m the same as cultists
spreading insecurities.

But what do I get out of it?
What’s my fat bottom line?
Am I too embarrassed to shine?
I embrace the darkness
understand the darkness
and let it go:
like this poem.

You may say I AM the darkness
because I don’t BANISH it
as soon as it arrives
when I’m sipping chia tea,
I flick a finger, it flies away.
TO WHERE though?
Where does it go?
Darkness shows up somewhere.
Maybe it’s hiding under the chair
and WHAM!  World light
comes into question.

Or is it realization:
I am me, and you are you
we are one but not the same
we share a heart but not a brain
though we will grow to know
telepathically, empathically,
predicting futures with tech-assist
I still wouldn’t fast forward,
AGAIN, I will resist.
Because this is a free will planet.
And sometimes, I WILL TAKE IT.

That moment when NO ONE ELSE
mentions the elephant in the room,
and perhaps I’ll live in gloom
like I did hiding with video games,
but I’ll never forget the premise
or miss the reason I exist.

I won’t consider it loneliness.

Because God’s presence
is for all of us
and though we grade,
tirade, reprimand castigate
we all are inescapably tied
to THE ONE who gave us
this ride through the universe.
And maybe, you’re happy
in a newly freed territory
on the edge of the galaxy
but lifetimes will pass
and I will move with them
to experience this SCIENCE
of wisdom, light and conscience.

Keep laughing at my question.
I’ll ask them more.
Just like abhorrent comments
there were some who responded
with light, love, or earnestly
with the method patented
by Socrates:
responding to question with the same.
Yes, I WILL play that game
and kudos to you for knowing
we don’t know everything
everywhere we specialize
try to constructively criticize
not put my worries down:
by putting me down.
Hi all, sorry if bored you, or left you confused.  I needed a place to host this poetry is currently here.  (Not all of it is criticism...I write many different poems).
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