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Alex Gifford Aug 19
You're first a miner and collector,
then a thinker and rejector.

Show the beauty with the words,
Not the beauty of the words.

Put the truth on golden platter,
speak with power, it does matter.
Primarily a reminder for me to avoid what I don't like in poems. I hope that whatever I write will follow this criteria.
Flopping, flipping,
Flattering lips
Are the company
Of fools

Or worse:
A bitter enemy,
Who conceals a heart
So cruel

But words of truth -
Even bold rebukes -  
Do accompany
The wise

They are a friend,
And will find favor in,
The men of
Righteous eyes

.
Emma Jul 21
How could you do that to him?
How could you do that to him?
How could you do that to him?
Those nasty, opportunistic girls,
Taking apart everything he had built
Undoing his hard work brick by brick
with their unnecessary pain.
Why should he pay for what was taken?
Why should any of them,
Hands linked in their chain
Of pitiless eyes and covering silence
Have to pay for their sins
it wasn’t like it was violence.
Oh, those girls with their words and their bleeding brown eyes
How dare they ruin the life of a good man
Hear his regret on the stage
How he dances so gracefully around admitting to making a mistake
How he glides over the abuse of those stolen young girls
They’re all just fine
We promise.
Elizabeth Zenk Dec 2018
chastisement towards myself
for every time i falter or stutter,
for every time i can’t control
my cauldron of sizzling insanity.
i reprimand everything i ***** up
everything that do.
rebuke fills my body
whenever i wake up,
whenever i continue my worthless existence.
whenever i continue live
CA Smith Apr 2018
It can sting,
but at the right time,
nothing encourages growth more than a proper rebuke,
from a true friend, with proper intentions.
Brent Kincaid Aug 2017
Over the passage of time
Things got slowly better.
I began to hold my head up;
Rejected that lavendar letter;
The big “F I had to wear.
It originally meant ‘fairy’.
Later it meant ******, but
They still called me ‘Mary”.

They called me ‘“******”
And hurtful words like “shim”
When they referred to me;
They said “her” and not “him”.
It was so widespread that
The jokes were ever-present.
Life for a guy like I was then
Was seldom rewarding or pleasant.

There was no place back then
For those who were different.
The kindest word for the media
Could only be 'diffident'.
The world could only see us
As clowns and comic relief
But socially we rated somewhere
Below baby ****** and a thief.

So. we started marching
And coming out to our friends.
Later we would come out at work
But the discrimination did not end.
I was told not to put the picture
Of my lover on my office desk.
And I had to agree or else I would
Put my meager salary at risk.

When lovers were sick in hospital
We were not allowed to decide
How they would be treated at all
Our access to them was denied.
Family members, even haters
Were allowed to make the choices
And we were brushed to one side
As if they couldn't hear our voices.

Meanwhile co-workers ranted
If we used words like “my husband”.
We were treated the same as if
We were some ditzy cousin
They kept in the attic or a home
For the terminally strange and sick.
No matter when we stood up
We got the ***** end of the stick.

Today things are a bit better,
But, we have seen the pendulum swing.
Strange fake Christians get control
And reason stops meaning anything.
Jesus, who preached love and peace
Is used as a seemingly holy excuse
And, still today, many decent people
Never see through this awful ruse.
I am growing a flower

'Twas rooted in good soil

I nurtured and watered my flower

It grew strong and bold in color.

Then a day came when foreign seed found its place and tainted thy soil

As nutrients became scarce

I poured more water so the soil became soft as I fought the foreign seed

I wept. My flower has rejected the nutrients from my water.

I fought till every foreign plant had been removed and rebuked their roots

I nurtured and watered my flower

It grew stronger and more bold in color

I have a new flower in full bloom.
Isaiah 40:8
"The flower fades, the grass withers, but the Word of God shall stand forever."

— The End —