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Jeremy Betts Feb 6
I don't mock the prison that is religion I unapologetically hold up a mirror to it 
I call it's bull shiit with the confidence to challenge the pulpit with nothing pre writ
I fear no holy punishment, don't acknowledge your judgement
And you can miss me with that covenant, I didn't have any part in it
I don't agree with what it represents and how gods "followers" use this religious content
Explain to me how this isn't viewed as a crime syndicate
Call him down here for one sec, clear this up with the public
The fact that nobody's done it only exposes some of the slight of hand, silver tongue magic
Turns suspect real quick, I've lost any and all respect
Your guys not the guy, I don't buy the lie
If any of 'em believe in what they say and read, they should be in a panic
Basically, if believers believe then they would live life far different
And be open to conversation instead of jumping straight into argument

Ashlyn Yoshida Nov 2020
Swirling banters
red water catches my skin
my wrists are bound to the laughing of the crows
As the minor tantrum of a rebel
I live for the stories that include me the least
symbolism, symbolism everywhere
Tint Aug 2020
I am mocked, harshly
seeped into the crevices
of this low life being
itchy, stings, and pain
tears kept running
mind is on the edge
soul left hanging
to be the betterment
of the body it was given
that don't deserve a friend
the universe has mocked me
and guiltily I wept
I won't.
Michael R Burch May 2020
Laughter from Another Room
by Michael R. Burch

Laughter from another room
mocks the anguish that I feel;
as I sit alone and brood,
only you and I are real.

Only you and I are real.
Only you and I exist.
Only burns that blister heal.
Only dreams denied persist.

Only dreams denied persist.
Only hope that lingers dies.
Only love that lessens lives.
Only lovers ever cry.

Only lovers ever cry.
Only sinners ever pray.
Only saints are crucified.
The crucified are always saints.

The crucified are always saints.
The maddest men control the world.
The dumb man knows what he would say;
the poet never finds the words.

The poet never finds the words.
The minstrel never hits the notes.
The minister would love to curse.
The warrior longs to spare his foe.

The warrior longs to spare his foe.
The scholar never learns the truth.
The actors never see the show.
The hangman longs to feel the noose.

The hangman longs to feel the noose.
The artist longs to feel the flame.
The proudest men are not aloof;
the guiltiest are not to blame.

The guiltiest are not to blame.
The merriest are prone to brood.
If we go outside, it rains.
If we stay inside, it floods.

If we stay inside, it floods.
If we dare to love, we fear.
Blind men never see the sun;
other men observe through tears.

Other men observe through tears
the passage of these days of doom;
now I listen and I hear
laughter from another room.

Laughter from another room
mocks the anguish that I feel.
As I sit alone and brood,
only you and I are real.

Keywords/Tags: laughter, mockery, ridicule, another, room, anguish, brood, real, reality, dreams, persist, lovers, sinners, saints, madmen, poets, artists, minstrels, ministers, warriors, scholars, actors, proud, guilty, merry, blind, tears
Ylzm Aug 2019
i live an aimless life
no goals no ambitions
just wandering here and there
always on a journey

from somewhere to anywhere
going everywhere getting nowhere
with lots of money and time
life then only truly lived

always on a journey
to the moon from the deep
to the east from the west
to the poles from dancing poles

from hedonistic feasts to orgiastic flesh
from serene silence in the highest coldest peaks
to traitorous tyrant in murderous boardroom bloodbathing takeover
life's a journey and I'm loving it

only fools believe and excuse failures as a journey
Proctor Ehrling Jul 2019
Acolytes of yon ole Stanstead
Told him he's been mislead
Well tough, ya old curmudgeon
See ya never, has-been's has-been
this one I found in my old notebook and for the life of me, I cannot remember what it means and who was the "ole Stanstead". I remember there was some character or a person I based it on from way back when, but I can't remember who he was. anyway, here it is, the clearing of my paper-hard-drive.
MisfitOfSociety May 2019
Hair stands upon jolted skin folds.
You never could eat a salad.
You look pregnant with a fat pig!
Large enough to eclipse the sun!
Large enough to cause nuclear winter for everyone!
Grass ceases to grow with every step that you take!
The earth weighs a percent more whenever you ingest!
Your rolls could warm the Eskimos!
An orchestra of clapping flesh fills the room with every movement you make!

You don't seem to care about the people you run over when rolling in the street.
You say it is their fault for getting in the way.
They all look like Indiana Jones trying to outrun a boulder.
Too many happy meals can make a lot of people unhappy.
Man sized pancakes dot the side walks that we all used to tread.
Skinny people no longer exist, they are all dead. You mistook them for French fries.

You are just as imperfect as me,
So who are you to point a chunky finger.
You think you are so big behind that screen. Lecturing me about body standards when you look like you washed up on the beach this morning.
Stop crushing your high horse and come down just a little bit.
Time for you to get a serving of your own medicine.
Gape those ears wide and give a listen:
I don't live to look good for some fat ***, greasy, disgusting pig on the internet, jerking off to ******* **** while his mother makes microwave pizzas upstairs!
So jam that finger up you ***!
Ylzm Apr 2019
A traffic jam at 2 am?
My work just done, tired I am.
Is misfortune a thing with me?
A fallacy unknown maybe.

Recalled the time iPhone at max,
An accident my old was cracked.
Or day my rags compelled I splurge,
The day some Prada had to surge.

In Dubai, Grab’s copter went down,
With lover, boyfriend’s stuck in town.
Cold ***** camel ride through night,
Paid Bed’uin gold, or wait till light.

My friends all say I’m blessed and rich,
But life with peace I’ll rather switch.
Kiki Shaw Mar 2019
almost poet,
Based on a blackout poem from an introduction to Lewis Carroll's Alice In Wonderland.
Sudeshna D Feb 2019
Too much effort,
I’m giving in my all.
I’m helping me out,
To get up from the fall.
Such a disgrace,
I can’t stand even tall.
Walking away, a task,
I can’t even crawl.
You look at me,
Rolling your eyeball.
I feel like a mess,
Need alcohol.
Being happy, a norm
But **** protocol!
I can’t fake a smile,
I’m not a doll.
Any well wishers?
The number’s sure small.
Will they stand by me?
Help me build my wall?
When gravity intensifies and forces itself onto someone.
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