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So, the end came:
Some flew a white flag
Some flew a black
Some stared into a future
With no hope at their back.

All memory was cancelled
Family ties stretched thin
Bullying & cruelty
Gave the vengeful and the wicked
Power over everything

Some went to work as normal
Some knelt programmed to pray
Armies walked the streets
In case anger
Came out to play

Travel was kept to minimum
Holidays were abandoned
Wages were food
Hunger meant obedience
Compliance was demanded

A new Prime Minister
Declared himself
Winner of the pageant
But no-one knew who voted
Or why only one vote counted

The status quo is always that
It's just power-speak
For we know best
If things don't change tomorrow
Then assume we failed the test
Acta Non Verba ... Deeds not Words
Tommy Randell Jan 16
So, the end came:
Some flew a white flag
Some flew a black
Some stared into a future
With no hope at their back.

All memory was cancelled
Family ties stretched thin
Bullying & cruelty
Gave the vengeful and the wicked
Power over everthing

Some went to work as normal
Some knelt programmed to pray
Armies walked the streets
In case anger
Came out to play

Travel was kept to minimum
Holidays were abandoned
Wages were food
Hunger meant obedience
Compliance was demanded

A new Prime Minister
Declared himself
Winner of the pageant
But no-one knew who voted
Or why only one vote counted

The status quo is always that
It's just power-speak
For we know best
If things don't change tomorrow
Then assume we failed the test
Acta Non Verba ... Deeds not Words
A beautiful afternoon,
filled with a focused book reading.
The cigarettes i smoked,
absorbing me in my own sadness.
With every particle of smoke,
I saw the ever so small hope.
Hope of there being an attraction,
no, it was more so of a need.
I saw the conversation we exchanged,
had previously thought of responding later.
Naively picking up the phone, to hear from you again.
The words we exchanged took an unfortunate turn,
there was an argument and an exchange of words.
I was the nervous kid trying to explain my nervousness,
and while you were arguing for me to stop acting that way.
We still argued, naively.
Perhaps if I paid more attention to what you wrote, it might have been better.
But emotions absorbed me, and now I felt cornered. Felt as if you were angry, as if I couldnt speak anymore.
So then I approached , the friend I thought most reasonable to answer
for the embarrassment had all but emptied me of thoughts.
And he did write, in his own arrogance, a most hostile of the answer,
with words of accusations, words of defense and thoughts provoked by misinterpretation.
So then you wrote back, angry and surprised, for you knew not
that this was what I thought of you But you had all the reason to think so,
even though I did not.
And so you requested, that I may relieve you of my prescence,
given how strongly I came off, given how strongly the arrogant idiot of a friend
had royally ******* me.
So I made a last attempt, to salvage from the reckage of this friendship that I sought so much more from. Apologizing at every end, for the mistakes for the misinterpretations,
for being an *******.
But it seems I had hurt you, and I had hurt the impression you had of me,
for now my face would remind you of only those strongly worded things "I" said.
For now you would  never feel comfortable talking to me, after knowing what I truly felt underneath.
But I tried, and I tried so much to apologize, but my cowardice could not explain the truth
the fact they were not my words, the fact I was scared,
the fact I was embarrassed.
And I broke it beyond repair, and you kept insisting as subtly and kindly as you could,
for me to stop talking
and I kept apologizing, to no luck it seemed.
Alas, I gave in, and tried in my best and most friendly way
to agree to your terms,
but you phrasing the decision as my choice, made it ever so hard
But I guess I made the right choice, for maybe I deserved this
maybe after certain knockdowns I might actually learn.
But I knew what I thought, that I wont like so many things,
about this one unique person, for such a long time,
ever again, and now I stand speechlesss,
of how I escaalated things to such a
level, and I know
I was just a friend amongst your small list
of a relatively larger social circle,
but never was I so open to someone,
whilst being so emotionally closed.
Alas, my fear has caused my reckoning,
maybe if I was more open,
maybe if I was more honest,
maybe if I was a better friend.
Maybe if I had written that response myself,
perhaps, im better off alone.
weeping in my sorrow and pain,
but what hurts more, is I was just
another friend, and not even a good
one at that apparently.
The poem speaks for itself, its a testament to my **** ups, and perhaps the monumental sign of my need for becoming independent, the need to take my actions myself. nonetheless, hope every one of you had a good read.
Graff1980 Aug 2016
You embrace a dark character
and call it my flaw.
Demons in your eyes,
I cannot tell
if you are telling lies,
if you realize what madness you spread,
or have the worms
burrowed so deep into your head
that you truly believe
such severely stupid things.
The quintessence of Christian living and lifestyle,
is becoming more like Christ through everyday trials;
Flaunting documentation of accomplishments compiled,
will not impress The Almighty or even make Him smile.

Are you hungering or thirsting for His Righteousness?
Or is it some vain imaginary or visionary theorization
to demonstrate a haughtiness of spiritual intellect?
Just because you’re a part of Jehovah’s holy nation,

doesn’t mean that you can bully the unsaved to join.
The World understands and recognizes poor behaviors;
Doing what’s right and being satisfied before God,
implies that you are properly honoring our Savior

through personal conduct and true transparent living.
An increasing affinity for some spiritual pleasance,
is not equivalent to having a relationship with Him.
Religious ideologies are empty… without His Presence.
.
.
.
Author Notes

Inspired by:
Matt 5:6; Phil 1:9-11; Acts 20:17-21

Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ

By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2015, All rights reserved.
joe perez Nov 2014
Within creased paper lie binded souls
Firmly held within my clutch ,
Ideology hemorrhaging as non-opposables only bend so much.
Thirsty i reached for a swig of your cup 
Open palmed 
This vessel mishandled 
the contents soaked through bedrock
Its remains a drink for the decrepit.
Eu Claudio Oct 2014
one day I will die
I will die in a car crash
in a frontal colision
with some ******* who drunk too much
I had  my fare share of responsability
but I will not tell you why
I will just say it wasn’t pleasant
blood and bones all over the road

no, that’s not it
what the hell am I saying?
I will be murdered
in my own house
by some one who don’t belive in my ideologies
someone who profoundly disagree with me
therefore I am a threat to his way of life
or maybe I’ll just do it myself

not that I don’t belive in my convictions
but sometimes I have really hard times
defending them

one way or another
by accident, ****** or suicide
in the end,
someone will have to throw away my stuff
and delete my facebook account
Swells Sep 2014
I've outgrown the hibernaculum I was sewn into
at birth--the beast cannot be tamed
by suppressing the lungs and drowning them in liquors
darker than the sludge inside our bellies.  And full
those bellies have grown; pregnant by the
Bourgeois hands that are fat from a materialistic complex
as though the bounty hung before them is silk
and succulent on the tongue (as they are cut from the mouths).
These minds are like rot in the veins,
and they permeate,
and they anchor,
and they sink into our bones only to remind me
that there is always an ocean to
swallow
swallow
swallow down
if the land is too dry.
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