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we pick at the healing
tissue and it starts to
bleed just when the
wounds were
beginning to heal

we then go back in time
it starts us on yet another
harrowing journey of 
body spirit & mind

we try so hard to read
between the lines
that blur the harder
we try, blending what
can only be seen
through unfiltered eyes

(scales removed to see
the only Light that can
truly make manifest)

all we can do is smooth
out the edges and
touch-up unclear vision
with our patented
Photoshop Human Sheen

thinking we can reveal
what is holy in the
spiritually null & void
obscene

we have learned to
incorporate what order
we make of chaos into
a well-oiled
smooth-running
Rhetoric Machine

made from blueprints
of someone else’s
self-ordained dream
©2024 Daniel Irwin Tucker
Jeremy Betts Jan 16
"You're not a lot of fun to be around" she blurted
Not the first time I've heard it
I went
From being bullied to being A bully, was never meant to be permanent
You can probably guess what temperament brought more enjoyment?
So there's a solid argument to be had for it being a just verdict
But if you've never been in that predicament hold your judgmental hyperbolic rhetoric
Most folks seek out that kind of empowerment but keep it quiet, I'm just admitting it
Look, nobody's perfect but the crime has never fit my punishment
Pushed and shoved "getting back to the old me" to the back burner, against my better judgement
Cause I didn't bother with it any further, now a derelict social misfit
Then when it's my turn to take back the moment
My retort, a one and done statement;
Fck you, fck the planet and fck everyone on it
Easier to parrot that then to admit no one can stand me past the first minute
I don't know if it's the misplacement of hurt and anger, a cover for inadequate social alignment
Or a relentless deep seeded resentment for the general public
Not sure but it definitely feels organic
This old dog ain't capable of learning a new trick regardless of any enlightenment
Kinda sad isn't it?

©2024
i can
conjurer up words
mix delicate
intricacies of verse
with poetic license
i might defecate
upon scripted genius
   of the past
a scourge
on the eloquence
   of perfected prose
a pariah
with semantics
that hang in the air
like a frequented noose
the rhetoric of
this rhetoric
both dumbfounds
   and delights
the agenda of the learned;
to supress
the syntax spat forth
the phlegm and catarrh
of a gut
of derivatives

i could compose
a verse
for young lovers
   to cherish
if i could
only stop
the rot;
genius
   nonsense
      or ignorance
i couldn't
tell you
which
David Plantinga Dec 2021
The Wit is nimble, and can skip
The longest distances with ease.  
It flits on an extended trip,
One day, and back from overseas.  
The Wisdom hasn’t cleared the dock, 
A wide, and long, and sluggish ship,
Her cargo a tremendous stock,
And filled as if by faucet drip.  
But such a huge displacement packs,
What takes a flimsy, skimming skiff
More than a hundred there’s and back’s,
A bounty to save Tenerife.
Prachi Oct 2021
Scenaries I have seen many;
But why do you seem like the
sunset on a cold lonely beach.
Symphonies I have heard many;
But why do you sound like
A baby's first cry.
Perfumes I have smelt many ;
But why do you smell like the first rain on a summer day.
Sweets I have tasted many;
But why do you taste like
Cookies that mom makes.
Fabrics I have touched many;
But why do you feel warm
Like the sweaters grandma used to weave.
Have a crush on a guy and wanted to write about him.
Jiali Jan 2021
Light! Ah, light. At last.
The dull grey vanadium
Even burns full blast!
No need to breathe,
Just take the heat
And soon you'll never
Know defeat!
Victory! Victory, at last;
A great pile of ashes-
That is all that will last.
On this meagre battlefield
For all that will not yield.
27/01/21 22:31
anitajehu Oct 2020
The first time they said I was suicidal
It hurt much
Felt like  a lost kid
Thought my last minutes  were seconds to go
It hurt much
Tears couldn't well up
Words couldn't form
Honestly truth hurts

The first time they said I was suicidal
Already saw it coming though
The smile hid much than they could see
Cried on the silent nights
Whispered  wishes to my love
Held onto the pillar he built

The first time they said I was suicidal
Felt like second to me
Plus the nights spend pleading for a new world
A world with a no-human logo
When I held a knife to my dear-chest and thought this is it....

The first time they said I was suicidal
Pinned a key on a kids head
Wasn't scared of the pain caused,
The blood shed reminded of how suicidal I was
Second after my own suicide  thoughts

The first time they said  I was suicidal....
Wasn't that big of word
Wasn't that small of expression
Took the blame
What if I cut my ankle twice just to see red?
What if the smile means keep off?
What if I was really suicidal?

The first time I was suicidal....
I wasn't suicidal
If we could find the 'blame'
Only if we could, then anger would it be?

@taytay
I heard you say you are an expert at selling anything
Even your body?
Just thought of this today when It dawned on me how much people crave for money and are willing to do anything for it.
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