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Brent Kincaid Jul 2017
There won’t be  anybody waiting
When the evil get to heaven,
Not even good old Saint Pete.
Just a long slippery slide
Each of them must ride
With no way to land on their feet.

It's sad we have to wait
For the sweet bye and bye
For the evil to get just desserts.
We console ourselves that
When their number comes up
We can't help hoping it hurts.

They might get to heaven
But they'll never get inside
That's one place where lies won't suffice.
If they look good on the surface
But their insides don't match
They're going to the realm of fire and ice.

They're sure to be welcome there
The devil will have use for them
When the righteous world will not.
They'll probably forget the words
Of that time honored phrase:
"If a fish keeps its mouth shut it won't get caught."

It's sad we have to wait
For the sweet bye and bye
For the evil to get just desserts.
We must console ourselves
When their number comes up
We can't help hoping it hurts.
AD Snail Jul 2017
I remember the interrogation room,
I can still hear the voices boom,
Each question that was in burned inside my head,
Has informed and destroyed me.

I can still feel,
The clock of time, ticking by,
It's keeps reminding me,
This argument keeps going on and on,
And we both know we are done.

I don't have a voice lawyer,
That can talk back and defend me.
So I have to sit and take it.

The room is growing smaller,
Which is quite concerning because it was quite tiny already.  

My interrogators want me to talk,
But they only want to hear what they want to hear.  
So I stay silent, because I can't give them what they want.

They keep shining this spotlight on me,
And I feel so small, maybe there winning,
Because I just keep agreeing.

When I leave this interrogation room,
I know I’ll change myself all of again,
Because I aim to please,
And I never wish to go through that ever again.
Yozhik May 2017
You equate me to a murderer
Because I smoke some cigarettes
I guess we'll all be down in hell
While you play harp in winged quartets.

Sure, I reach for stars just 'cause they burn
my soul's a maze so I can hide
I've scrambled "god" with "****" and "****"
Each day my head and heart collide

But art's knowing when to break the rules
And life is art, so do the math
You think I'm just a 'talking corpse'
'Cause I reject your 'purer' path?

I'm a mess but that's just fine
You live your way I'll live mine
But tell me how you can define
The One True Way to live?
When you look at minor heresies
and can't even forgive?
Not anti-religion, just anti-religions who dehumanize nonbelievers.
Mark Lecuona May 2017
I don’t ask too many questions
At least not that I’m aware
Maybe I do or just maybe I don’t think so
Except that I will if it means something
Like a stranger I’ve come to know

You don’t have to tell me
What you believe is your affair
Perception is when somebody says it’s so
I’ll listen to you even if it’s nothing
I’m not worried about what you know

We can go where the light is quiet
And the darkness loud
All we have to do is let it be so
We’ll avoid the popular crowd
And sing songs in Spanish
About love and tales of woe

I don’t need to know your religion
Or your favorite prayer
It’s not important that you say it’s so
I’ll look into your eyes to find my blessing
And hopefully then I’ll really know

We can go live in the soft climate  
Underneath no dark cloud
We will bury ourselves in the same row
No matter how often it’s been plowed
Our memories will never vanish
Not in the heart of a farmer or a crow
ConnectHook Mar 2017
Α  †  Ω*

Un gran vuelo de cuervos mancha el azul celeste.
Un soplo milenario trae amagos de peste.
Se asesinan los hombres en el extremo Este.

!Ha nacido el apocalíptico Anticristo?
Se han sabido presagios y prodigios se han visto
y parece inminente el retorno de Cristo.

La tierra está preñada de dolor tan profundo
que el soñador imperial, meditabundo,
sufre con las angustias del corazón del mundo.

Verdugos de ideales afligieron la tierra:
en un pozo de sombra la humanidad se encierra
con los rudos molosos del odio y de la guerra.

¡Oh, Señor Jesucristo! ¿Por qué tardas, qué esperas
para tender tu mano de la luz sobre las fieras
y hacer brillar al sol tus divinas banderas?

Surge de pronto y vierte la esencia de la vida
sobre tanta alma loca, triste o emperdernida
que, amante de tinieblas, tu dulce aurora olvida.

Vén, Señor, para hacer la gloria de ti mismo.
Vén con temblor de estrellas y horror de cataclismo,
vén a traer amor y paz sobre el abismo.

Y tu caballo blanco, que miró el visionario,
pase. Y suene el divino clarín extraordinario.
Mi corazón será brasa de tu incensario.

                                              *
Rubé­n Darío  (1867-1916)
Song of Hope    [Translated by Salomón de la Selva]

Vultures a-wing have sullied the glory of the sky;
The winds bear on their pinions the horror of Death’s cry;
Assassinating one another, men rage and fall and die.

Has Antichrist arisen whom John at Patmos saw?
Portents are seen and marvels that fill the world with awe,
And Christ’s return seems pressing, come to fulfill the Law.

The ancient Earth is pregnant with so profound a smart,
The royal dreamer, musing, silent and sad apart,
Grieves with the heavy anguish that rends the world’s great heart.

Slaughterers of ideals with the violence of fate
Have cast man in the darkness of labyrinths intricate
To be the prey and carnage of hounds of war and hate.

Lord Christ! for what art waiting to come in all Thy might
And stretch Thy hands of radiance over these wolves of night,
And spread on high Thy banners and lave the world with light?

Swiftly arise and pour Life’s essence lavishly
On souls that crazed with hunger, or sad, or maddened be,
Who tread the paths of blindness forgetting the dawn and Thee.

Come Lord, to make Thy glory, with lightnings on Thy Brow!
With trembling stars around Thee and cataclysmal woe,
And bring Thy gifts of justice and peace and love below!

Let the dread horse John visioned devouring stars, pass by;
And angels sound the clarion of Judgment from on high.
My heart shall be an ember and in thy censer lie.
Brent Kincaid Feb 2017
I saw a woman on the bus today
She was scowling for all she was worth.
I found it impossible not to think
She had looked that way since birth.
She was openly starting and frowning at
A young woman less than half her age
Whose manner of appearance and actions
Seemed to set the woman into a rage.

The young lady was with her friends
But she was the happiest of the lot
Yet somehow her expressions of joy in life
Seemed to make the older woman hot.
I could tells he wanted to say something,
A coarse and disapproving kind of remark.
But she appeared to prefer to keep quiet
Even though here thoughts were obviously dark.

I sat next to the older woman and asked her,
“Do you know that girl standing right there?”
She frowned and told me, “Certainly not
I’m sure that type has nothing much to share.
Surely nothing godly or proper or polite.!”
I asked her why she felt that was the truth.
“There can be nothing good to come to her.
She’s obviously a major waste of her youth.

Look how she dresses and flaunts her ***
And don’t disregard how she makes up her face.
She doesn’t care if everyone knows that she
Is an embarrassment to her folks, a disgrace.
It’s disgusting how she wiggles her ****
In front of all of these ***** men to see.
She’s a ******* in the making, it seems.
At least that’s what she looks like to me."

I had so many things I wanted to say to her
To defend a young woman I did not know
But I made an instant decision that I
Would say nothing and let the moment go.
After all, the older woman had no regard
That times and changed and passed her by.
Nothing anybody had told her in life
Had made a difference, so how could I?
Conscious Feb 2017
It must be nice to sit on that thrown.
Looking down, striking innocent civilians like a missile happy drone.

Armed with hurtful statements, blindly firing accusations, based on evidence that you claim to be common sense, seemingly Heaven sent.

Reliance on misconceptions derived from your own blind biased cognizance is pure bliss.... ignorance.

It must be nice to not miss, all that you have missed in life, such as avoiding relationships, mistakes and hardships that life forces you to take, regardless of whether or not you have the confidence in yourself to know you can actually make ... it.

**** ... it must be nice to finally sit up off of that throne and fly so ******* high like the most expensive drone your precious money can buy, to look down at everyone with a big *** frown that you have won from spending the last 22 years of your life having "fun" pretending to understand the meaning of strife by watching computer screens and playing games with virtual reality teams.

"**** boys and ***** girls"... coming from a mouth that hasn't yet lived in the real world. No wonder you make everyone secretly hurl.
You're wrong, they are just people so stop looking at life through a ******* self righteous peep hole.

It must be nice to shoot accusations with minimal to no contemplation, while avoiding any due diligence by never seeking out deeper intuitive evidence that could contribute to smarter conceptualization before sentencing your victims to passive damnation.

You! are what is wrong with this **** nation. Lack of perspective is what plagues the evolution of our creation.

It is time that this was mentioned.
The ability to empathize has been under deconstruction and detention of the proper correction is the root cause for all of this ******* tension.

Lack of perspective, my friends, will be our greatest downfall.
So please, I implore you all, not to be like the Indian prince who merely thinks he knows how to judge other people's innocence.
Denel Kessler Jan 2017
Evelina’s fence of lichened cedar
slouches at the wetland border
her willows wildly weep
on silken cattail shoulders
the neighbors say she’s crazy
snidely call her Javelina
she's sane as any one of them
this brilliant winter morning

Evelina speaks of weather and dogs
hers, a Chihuahua named Fawn
mine, a Frenchie named Sparky
the weather, typically Northwest
in parting, sculpted driftwood
spiraling tornadic rings gifted
between palms roughly
worn by time and sea

Evelina’s yard is thick with trees
the neighbors want cut down
for now, she’s doing all she can
just holding swampy ground
each morning wakes triumphant
to beachcomb on the shore
pockets weighed with treasure
this moment, nothing more
Emily Nov 2016
I'm used to being loved and ignored
But I never experienced being hated
Perhaps you receive what you give
Hating someone is out of my league
'Cos I believe respect must live
But then again
No one can escape judgment from other people
And that's (not) okay
People will jugde and hurt you,
Over and over again
You'll be the gist of their fun
Their game made of insecurities,
lack of knowledge,
a bottle of pride,
and an empty box of respect.
          Never give in.
               Let them play their game
                    But never ever play with them.
                          **** them with silence.
   And by that;
You will always be the victor.
|truth slap.
storm siren Nov 2016
It's easy to hate people
For things you don't understand.
I know.
I've been on both ends.

And the funny thing
About people hating other people,
Is that we're really not that different.

I mean, according to recent studies,
Race doesn't even biologically exist.

And most religions look and act the same,
In some way, shape, or form.

Almost every one has started some type of war,
Though it was truly based upon greed and power.

Humans have a strange thirst for power,
I've never really understood it.

I've hated my fair share
Of humans.
Granted, most of them were violent ******.

Granted, so am I.

Though I am violent in the vindictive, spiteful sense.
No better, really.
A false sense of righteousness
Because I believe I can cast judgment upon those who have sinned,
While ignoring my sins.

You have no reason to judge another,
For you are not clean of sin.

Now,
I'd get off my high horse,
If the ground wasn't so *****
And full of hate.
It makes my stomach weak,
Too much dark.
Not enough light.

Of course,
If all were well,
I'd think there were too much light,
Not enough dark.

There needs to be a balance,
But the balance is too dark.

I wonder how you can't see it,
How you can force yourself into denial
And live in your little fantasy world
Where all is good, and all is this, and all is that.

I'd like to think it's because you haven't seen what I've seen,
But you have.

But you do know.

And that scares me.

So keep hating this,
But not that.
Keep hating that,
But not this.

You can't make excuses,
When you hate all around the board.

Be careful who you hate,
It might be someone you love.
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