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Cody Haag Jan 2016
He walked into the new world,
Stared at the looming plants of varied iridescence;
Around him creatures chittered and swarmed
About the threat that had yet to convince.

"I mean you no harm, I have come
To escape the clutches of violence."
The creatures did not spurn his words
Or even offer defiance.

He doubted they understood a thing he said,
Yet something in his tone communicated
To these creatures that he
Need not be attacked or hated.

Aye, it was strange to witness,
For the people of Earth rarely gave such a chance;
They would sooner him die than listen,
Display his head atop a lance.
BSeuss Jan 2016
The codgers devoid of sane be born, also men with no power.
But They stay to collude, In the tangible mainlands of man,
old world demise.
In a new world disguise.
Phoenix Jan 2016
The sympathetic nervous system is your fight-or-flight response system
You must have been a bird with broken wings,
Because you only wanted to fight.

The parasympathetic nervous system is your healing system
You must believe that mine is so amazing
That I can heal any wound.
I hate days when I just feel like overall ****. I especially hate the days when I think about  him.
Brent Kincaid Nov 2015
I was born to please the glitteratti
Treat them like they’re gods right here on earth.
Whether a Kardashian or Gotti
They think I’ doomed to serve them since my birth.
I’m meant to feed you, bathe you
Live my life just for you.
I’ve got to primp you, **** you
Wipe your royal ****.
And if I move too slow
You’ll call me ****!

I’m so benighted
And I’ve not denied it.
I was born without a soul
And I know I’m lost now.
My life is blighted
And very much misguided.
Somewhere inside
There is a soul who really
Should know how.

I thought I could gut it out forever
But I found I could only take so much.
Putting up with daily kissing *****
Made me want to retch from every touch.
You are disgusting, thrusting
Your face in everywhere.
Like you are something; you’re nothing,
Got nothing to share!
I no longer care.

I’m not divided
And I just can’t hide it.
I want a life and I intend
To go and get one
A real one.
So get excited.
I have decided
To grow a pair and do
What I know I ought to.
Got to!
Sajay Jai Singh Nov 2015
I wanted to know what was real knowledge,
so I went to the wisest master, God,
Not to learn things of school or college,
But to go where no foot has ever trod.
.
God said," I know what you seek, child,
But if real knowledge is what you wish to gain,
You venture into mountains dark and prairies wild,
And go through joyful hurt and honoring pain."
.
I was ready to put up resistance,
Said God," To men you shall speak,
Who are the wisest of this existence,
And at the end you shall get what you seek."
.
And so I went to the Physicists,
On whose principles this world exists,
They asked, “Pascal’s law, Bulk modulus, Doppler effect, can you tell?"
I said," No sir, but like Newton, even I wondered why the apple fell."
"Sacrilege!" they said," You inelastic plastic, may your soul rest in hell."
But I remembered God's words and moved on.
.
Then I went to the scholars of Chemistry,
Who are the wisest in mankind's History,
They asked me," What about Dalton's law, KTG, inorganic Benzene, can you say?"
"Nothing, sir, but I wonder about molecules and atoms, night and day!"
"Sacrilege!" they said, " You miserable molecule, May in hell your grave lay."
But I remembered God's words and moved on.
.
Then I went to the supreme Mathematicians,
Whom I consider as God's own magicians,
They asked me," What on methods of solving DEs, LMVT, can you speak?"
"Nothing, sir, but I work on theorems of Euler, the mathematician Greek."
"Sacrilege!" they said," You rootless equation, may you end up in the Devil's steak."
But I remembered God's words and moved on.
.
Indeed, I felt sorry for their and the future generations' plight,
But at the end of the road, I realized God was right,
It’s not about knowing Pascal's, Dalton's or Euler's shouts,
Its knowing how to live life to your fullest, every time you breathe in and breathe out.
Grace Pickard Nov 2015
Which part of me would choose?
For it is cold in my mind and warm in my heart
If only I knew what goes on within your mind
So perfectly flawed

I could crawl into your brain...
The simple masterpiece of all I've seen-
" pure beauty" is a mere insult to the magnitude of its indescribable wonder

Peering through the amygdala
I'll see your past in awe-
At how it's brought you here,
A creature so wonderfully subtle with tongue
And bold in nature:
Sui generis.

I'd love to journey through the thoughts of you
Through and through I'd wander
And wander always turns to wonder



To be electrified by your synapses
And burnt into oblivion-
A million pieces of me
Becoming blended within
Something wholly powerful
Is but a dream
Locked behind
The gazing brown puddles
Reflecting the moonbeam
Graff1980 Nov 2015
The preacher wants to send me to hell
The politician, the guards, the lobbyist and the
Industrial prison complex wants to send me to jail
See me suffering in a cell by myself
Or with another victim of this sick system

The church claims I am the property of god
The states says this inmate is the property
Of the federal corrections dark system
Prisons which now work to turn a profit
Turns prisoners into assets and still costs us
Taxes, corporate criminal practices
Give more freedom to the businesses and businessmen
While they condemn me and my impoverished friends
Tell me where does this injustice end
Foxgopher Nov 2015
One by one, through the machine
I’ve watched them go, boys and girls
Not yet mature, not yet solidified
They come out different, I barely recognize
Some I can still see, changed but still intact
One by one, through the machine
I’ve been there too
The fear, the expectation, what was I doing
Could I object, they said I could
I never believed it
One by one, through the machine
Every day, someone goes in someone comes out
I’m pained because I know it
I firmly want to explain to them
And to those who will others in
One by one, through the machine
They come out soulless,
Are they dead inside or have they found it
I never did, but I wasn’t ready
Who says that you have to
One by one, through the machine
But on who’s terms are we going?
H W Erellson Oct 2015
We shouldn't be remembering war
we should be remembering the aftermath
the smoking shells of homes,
the lasting hunger,
no Johnny or Jimmy or Dave or Sandra or Sarah or Marie
at the dinner table tonight
flowers gathering on graves.

Learn a God ****** lesson, don't retake the class
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