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Rajnish Mishra Jun 2017
The long unending chain of toadies
All but goes on knees
To kiss the ground beneath
The Caesar’s feet divine,
And masses spineless fawn o’er him
With lolling tongues canine,
While Caesar smugly smiles.

His laurels, rank, and destiny,
His power, throne and crown,
Anoint him with, then gladly
They press on him their leash.
Teeth glittering, widened lips,
Resounding, deafening claps,
At every single dropping word
From Caesar’s lips divine.

Then tail-like wag all tongues;
Sweeter than honey spread,
Cloying, unctuous, authentic,
Invented compliments.
They truly lie and truly please
The head that wears the crown.
Their words and praise rise not
From heart from lips downwards they drop.

Bravo! Stinging and biting,
Inverted compliments,
Impressive speech, well-worded,
And what fine sentiments!
You think you know then
All you need of countless regiments.
We live by knowing where to bow,
And smile, fawn and kiss when,
The hallowed ground beneath his feet
Aand selves how prostrate then,
While Caesar smugly smiles.

Our happy days and nights,
We smiling live our lives, at Caesar’s feet divine.
By God we truly look our part
With lolling tongues canine.
O you tigers of wrath!
Your wars for liberty,
Produce dictators worst,
Today you have your Julius,
Tomorrow Augustus.
And what indeed is truth if not calibration?
Timeless, endless, meaningless ratiocination?
Mercury Chap Jun 2017
How fast her fingers move on
From work out tips to
Cannes festival link
Her heart and mind afloat in the
Jolly, juvenile winds,
She opens her wings and flies into the jet streams,
Soaring for the highest peak of her heart
Always dreaming, imagining her future fantasy,
Hoping reality wouldn't crush her
Before she even starts struggling.
David Cunha Apr 2017
How they fake
How they copy
How they fear
How they dream scared dreams in tears.

How they drink from bored mugs
How they live like slugs
How they make money cigarettes
How they pray for money bags

How they crave recognition
How they bend for the system
How they brag ignorance
How they weep romance

How they shove it up their *****
How they're continuously embarrassed
How they play the game
How they never blame

How they praise intuition
How they preach superstition
How they form their private cliques
How they corporate religion´

Will this joke ever end?
Sorry, no, I will not bend.
Àŧùl Jun 2017
Oh how conveniently I often fail,
But not that my arms I do not flail.
Neither that soldier spirit ebbs away,
Nor this fighting spirit will ever sway.

What is wrong with my health,
Why all my systems get derailed.
Have I not lost so much of wealth,
How I avoid this approaching death.
May be a bad news for a few of you,
But as a good news for some of you,
Multiple systems in my body now fail.
I am not sure where I will land,
If in heaven or in hell,
If there exists a life after death,
I will await your ascent right there only.

If I die, ask my father for the password.

My HP Poem #1576
©Atul Kaushal
rose Apr 2017
i see stars
in her eyes.
no —
not just stars;
solar systems
in which just the two
of us wander through,
individual souls lost
in a pool of darkness.
that darkness devours
every last bit of hope,
and that is why i know
we cannot be together.
official poetry month c:
Ignis Mar 2017
Barely a few years out the womb
Already they seek to entomb
To drag me by my feet
To fulfill the ends they seek

Riddle me this
With a flavorless kiss
Words whispered to my ears
******* away my human bliss

I want to be free
But they place me
In a numbers game
With many a name

Dear Lord!
With your empty words
I am a number on a list
Each contributing to this ever-growing cyst

Test me, test me
Let me see
"Learn what we teach"
I say practice what you preach
You leech

Government daycare
Slowly killing their clientele
The ones who came unwilling
Shackled in laws
Under scrutinizing stares
Of the systems eariler products
The ones who need to be molded
To fuel the ever growning hellfire

Turn The Wheel!
Be a Cog!

Our beasts of burden
Seeds for the next crop
Reaped, to grow our grain
To labor in vain
While we grow fat
Lard-laden

Why do we subject ourselves to this
When right in our grasp
Is bliss?

It'd only require
An amount most dire
Blood made green
Filled with rottings of evil hearts
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