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Jack L Martin Sep 12
My new addiction
is to write good poetry;
ignoring day job
Jack L Martin Sep 11
"Get back to work!"  the voice shouted out

"There is work, you ****, to be written about!"

"Ok!" I said, as I stared at his head

This story is over, this poem is dead.
Attempt to shine
     flickering figurative klieg light
with the help of hyperbole
     on poverty wrought
debutante material, this predicated
     on my own unbiased thought
initially related during
     my early boyhood,

     how many countless
     bachelor beaus sought
to pledge their troth,
     who hailed (strictly
     for purposes of this poem)
     from Pennsauken,
     Perth Amboy, Penobscot,

but thee essential truth ought
to be gleaned (lodged
     as like some precious gem
within geode, qua Harriet Kuritsky,
     who oft times recounted her
     personal anecdotal information)

underlying veritable truth, I allude
means to underscore
     how thine late mum
     as the "baby" of her family
     wore mantle of exclusive favoritism,
     sans donning beautiful clothes
     perfectly cared for,
     coiffed, and curled hair

     (think Shirley Temple)
     as her older sisters brewed
festered, and steeped with jealousy,
     asper me mother receiving
     lion's share of blatant favoritism
all the while said long since
     deceased maternal aunts got exclude
did from requisite

     (shut heard textbook case) maternal love,
     hence within their cerebral hood
     incubated, evolved, and flourished
     emotional disease affliction
     with changeable mood

and thee Aunt Ruth oblivious,
     while pacing hallway in the ****
whereat verbally abuse sent
     both aunts to mental institution
insanity didst the
     ultimate discordant prelude

resulting viz lifetime
     of baleful, hateful, shameful,
     and worthless venom got spewed,
hence no surprise
     rabid mailer daemons
     courted, thus psychosis easily wooed.
You are very sick,
The clock ticks,
No hope, the doctor says,
Friends and family pray,
Night and day.
A miracle happens,
You take a U turn,
You get better
And better
*** heals.
The doctor sends the bill,
He gets paid.
Aishah Apr 14
I am in

my own kind

of ****


and there is

no escape


until I've paid

all of my sins
am I the only that is stuck in the same cycle?
but

yeah
all
you
*******




let me give your mind
something you can relate to

****** freaks
****
my
word

promise me this
you
******
notches
watch my
mothers
birthmark
you
****** *******



notch your mind
with
my
word
?


















...
..
.
done bred
pit-bull
...
is after me
she is poking
her stick
in my
honey hole

she takes her stick
crams
it
in
my
honey hole

we start to tingle

she pulls her stick
lick lick lick
she licks
me

sting sting sing
we
stung
her bellvadear
?



















...
..
.
there will
be
...
I stole some underwear on a whim
but also cuz I didn't have much money
more than most tho

Someone told me they stole cheese

People put avocados through as potatoes cuz they're not affordable

I knew someone who paid for about a third of the bras they took and stole the rest so that they would be a more affordable price

Maybe things shouldn't be cheaper but wages should definitely be higher.

Our hospital is dying with the people within,
the concrete flakes like dying skin.

We spend $3billion dollars on defence annually.
I saw 'we' when I never chose that, I would never agree to it.
They say 'defence' when it's an imperialist war project by the West.

I wonder whose suffering is propping up whose suffering and
how all that suffering is propping up someone else's profit.

I wonder how sufferers might forge some sense of solidarity
and overthrow the poor mongers, the war mongers together.
New Zealand has some of the lowest wages and highest living costs
Jorge Diaz Aug 2017
We do not have to plead our case
For he took our place
Tracing back-to Genesis
When we were molded by His grace

His love demonstrate
Breaks
Gender and race
For we are all the same

It’s a shame
What we are today
Is not how we were made
To walk around with these chains

For we bear His image
Polish
To a perfect finish
But we’re stained with sinful *******

It's self to blame
Self-most fade
Our ego trade
For a righteous change

He paved the way
So that our sins will be erased
Our hearts engraved
With the message that saves

Demons shack
When they see His face
The devil races
Back to his cage

His love is like a flame
Power with in His name
From death the grave
To life, He reigns

Your guilt exchanged
With your sins paid
Forgiveness He give
Don’t have to wait
Come to Jesus today.
You have saved me...
kaylene- mary Aug 2017
my body is not a debt to be paid.
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