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Alex Gifford Dec 2019
You follower. Fool follower!

Witch trials have began,
Hang the noose on Gallows Hill
And execute the land.

You follower. Wise follower!

With scales in your hand,
Weigh the truth and walk the path
Some missions must be manned.
It's not bad to be a follower, it's bad to be a foolish follower.
Rainy Days Sep 2019
Isn't it weird
You know who you are
You found my poetry
3 times
Even the account I deleted
I remember you following me
It makes me smile
There once was a plain old greedy degenerate
Who fancied himself some sort of profit
Most of the town's folk even bought it
Some say he lost it

We must laugh together at the irony we see
Someone degenerate as he
Redesigning our humanity
First conceptual sold as a divine product
******* ecstasy…

I won't support the scandal to fund the living Dead council
The Swine
Thought to unwind and rewind in the way they felt fine
Thus genetically designed a millennia of succession of clergy kings
And unleash them to father all mankind to be

Hear me when I say
I do not feel okay
When malice men metal with God's work

Got a hell of a good pitch though
I mean you really make that **** looked ****, no?

A well-designed slaughterhouse may have its livestock walking into spirals right to the mouth of the grinder
Scientifically each breed more perfect than the next
As I deflect
Do my very best
To warn just in case you could respect
Liberty and freedom
Or obey to choose to sleep comfortably
Happy sheep healthy cut of meat
Splash, shear and then repeat

I love you So much
Almost as much as I love myself
Hope you can learn how to be alone with just yourself all by yourself
and be present with yourself Love
pitch black god8 Apr 2018
this peculiar notion transmigrates into a startling potion,
one that creates, not slakes human thirst,
a consequential first position for those who are in possess
of a direct line to gods who hide in the pitch black,
perforce one must make discrete deferential inquiries
avec une politesse indirecte

just in case we are wrong

(honest aside:
as composition proceeds, ear buds fill me with
Music of Transmigration, notably Op. 11, of S. Barber making
contradicting souls passing through me tenable and malleable)

naturellment,
loud radio silence, was I naive to expect otherwise?

perhaps god is not the subject of this poem
but perhaps the author(!)  who's
just  keeping his "hand" in the poem game,
spoofing human memes,
with a spot of fun even in
New Z--l-and-other domiciles

after all who has more
nominalistic titles,
is cursed and blessed,
by almost everyone
at least once a day, and in
a thousand different names
with an impishly
cruel sense of what this human gig
it created.
is about

tonight
I am a composer,
tomorrow’s decomposer,
or just a funny named follower

ah,
the answer is in the
data
My very first poem; yay!
I don't stand on formality,
you can call me #8
Andrii Panfilov Jan 2019
Put it on my mama, that violets are blue, roses are red, and my heart is dead and so is your heart.
aj kamari Jan 2019
we can love if you will kiss the needle
just a little bit bigger-
your image isn’t your most beckoning quality
just a little bit thinner-
we can sleep if you will follow
just a little less brain-
don’t stand loud love, it isn’t becoming
just a little more tame//
stand straight but think alike
don’t stray or wander from the path ahead
walk in unison and stay uptight
basically, loveables are brain dead.
you don’t belong here.
people always tell us who to be and who not to. to stay thin and keep our pretty mouths shut. we are to be superficial followers and we aren’t born for this world.
TB Dentz Jul 2018
Wherefore art my purpose in life
I'm filled with passion, love, and fight
Bursting with spirit until I'm overcome
By social anxiety and a long line at the grocery store

I want to be good but I'm without determination
I've been taught leadership, sure
And I don't want to be a follower
But do I want to make others into followers?

Is it possible to do good and not be a hypocrite
To organize people for a purpose
Without taking advantage of them
Without rewarding their efforts fairly?

Verily I remain a thinker, a ponderer
And regrettably not a man of action
It must be a moral quandary that keeps me at home
Because I could never admit that it's only fear of failure
The main reason I'm not the president. Of anything
Latina1813 Feb 2018
You agree
When you want to shout, curse, and swear
The Almighty....answer this weeping willow
Made of concrete air
Of unfeeling movement
You cower behinds browned bodies, montezuma minds, and your license
Power to go as you please, be as you please, please help me to see
The inner child trapped in mordant cornerstones, and sitting on your own weight
To grasp the folly by the throat and twist him into existance
Not so much absolution
In agreement with other fancies
Prayers unanswered
Dwelling on ginger hands and knees
In ******* when his course has never enter into being....real
Or really close
His path to plunge thick into purple passionate trance
His path askew from my own
Though a followed trendy line
A drink
When it makes your journey into trees, and speed, and gluttony
A laugh
When scorned mouth spewed and sput into russet wounds already *****
A smoke
When it clogs your memory into patchwork and quilted thoughts unwoven
Youre unspoken!
You agree?
Write this about a friend who never spoke their mind and always agreed with everyone else. Its like we all never got to really know him.
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