#condemnation
Hold off on your verdict for her now.
Put by your own condemnations.
You never lived behind the wall
In the grip of grievous self-abnegations.
In the morning, while opening eyes,
She destroys and despises herself in whole!
She hates herself! She abhors the world,
Which she has made by herself alone.
She wants everything would disappeared,
Evaporated as though it's never been
So that there's nothing left around,
Nothing reminded of her as she's been.
And she would start with a blank sheet.
Forgiven, redeemed and clearly blameless,
Hold off on your verdict for her now,
For her, who leans over ruins.
May 29, 2025
May 29, 2025 at 5:22 PM UTC
You don't know how wroth I feel,
You don't know.
It is better to swallow my own *****
Gurgle my own bile down this sore throat.
You said you're ugly?
Can we trade?
It is better I wouldn't be this,
It robs my peace.
But it's not the first time,
Is it?
I took the spear,
***** rusty spear, ugly.
I throbbed my own gut, repeatedly until I stopped bleeding.
And when my guts were hanging on the floor,
I waited till the crimson dried.
And when my entrails lay glistening on cold stone,
I took the Spear, and hurled it towards my creator.
Ooh how I repent!
I repent my God!
My heart is broken. Fragments.
I have one to blame, yes I do.
I.
But I have one to thank,
Him will I highly glorify, highly exalt.
pure as a lamb, mighty in glory.
Christ! Christ! Christ!
My King and My Lord I repent.
Can I put this filth on you? On those anvil shoulders?
Yea?
Why?
I repent!
Apr 12, 2025
Apr 12, 2025 at 5:53 AM UTC
I have five fingers
Raised in my defence
You accept my surrender
We shake, without offence
Till, I point with my index
Raise my thumb for a gun
Curl three fingers back
Tucked into my palm
“Bang! …Bang! You shot me
A simple twist of my wrist
You aim it back at me
A hand gun for a fist
Oct 16, 2021
Oct 16, 2021 at 6:58 AM UTC
#
You are blessed by God
and that blessedness
leaves me breathless;
But.....
aw.. **** love..
The shame didn't come from me
and neither did the all-consuming condemnation..
*yet my direct words to you make you feel
as though I am the author of both*
Love, infused with truth
is a language all its own
but you can't do it.. can you
You are wholly unable to see yourself
as someone truly Loveworthy
You can't see it,
and so it is my words to you
that you attack
and then run from
and then run to
and then fall in love with
*And then you rage
and then you hide
as it churns*
***as it churns
as it churns***
And you think its from me
And you think I am the author of both
*But it was i n y o u before we ever met
and because of that, I lose everything*..
because I won't stop doing
what it is that I do.
*Love is different
than what it sometimes feels to you*
#
Sep 22, 2021
Sep 22, 2021 at 9:08 PM UTC
The same ones who hate me
tend to try and break me,
Curse and forsake me,
Then cry when they **** me.
Then they see,
That they actually need me
it's too late for that now,
Because I do not break and I certainly won't bow.
They have condemned me for now
But watch them as they come back around.....
For Help.
Mar 30, 2020
Mar 30, 2020 at 1:17 PM UTC
Her Preference
by Michael R. Burch
Not for her the pale incandescence of dreams,
the warm glow of imagination,
the hushed whispers of possibility,
or frail, blossoming hope.
No, she prefers the anguish and screams
of bitter condemnation,
the hissing of hostility,
damnation's rope.
Keywords/Tags: woman, female, preference, dreams, imagination, possibility, hope, anguish, screams, condemnation, hostility, damnation
Apr 5, 2020
Apr 5, 2020 at 3:01 AM UTC
some people condemn others.
simply cause they have been condemned by them.
are you being condemned or do you condemn others?
(mostly it's both.)
what's easier to wrestle with?
Dec 21, 2019
Dec 21, 2019 at 11:17 AM UTC
#Assertiveness: standing up
for your own rights;
Don't infringe upon or ignore
anyone else's rights, though
It is not aggressiveness
Start with an "I" statement;
It should be descriptive, not
evaluative or condemnatory#
Aug 1, 2019
Aug 1, 2019 at 9:20 AM UTC
Dare I. If dare is believe there are
possible
goods to be released from bonds or
buried boxes or hidden codes forgotten,
and we are the heros,
dear reader,
you and me, as a we, we expand
twixt me and thee, see there is some land
and water and
within those two
frames of re
ference infer, we exist to wax spirtual
leave yo' body behind,
and rise up
look around
hear the sound, symbolic TRUMP
and unbelieve
the last lie,
kbamdidamdamdam. Wanna live?
Defend yo' faith,
mo'foe
doncha know? We 'l'ow no con
demnin' heeyah
we all endured thus fah,
we aim
t' claim the prize.
Jul 9, 2019
Jul 9, 2019 at 11:09 PM UTC
It used to be fun, loving on the sly.
An exciting time, but I don’t know why.
What was so thrilling about it all then?
Nothing to be proud of. Not very zen.
Sneaking and giggling like a fool
Only proves to me now I was a tool.
But for those of me raised in that time
Being gay and ***** was a big crime.
Even now, many say they don’t mind it
But if I have to be gay, I must be quiet.
Don’t talk about my time with a guy.
If I have to do that, do it on the sly.
They invent unclever euphemisms
And further deepen the ****** schism
That says we are good and you’re not
At least according to the family I’ve got.
They’ll just wink and dig with an elbow
And that’s they way they want it to go.
Of course, even better, just don’t say
That you I am one of those, you know, gay?
We’ll all know stuff, we don’t want to know.
We won’t discuss your twisted shame, oh no.
We'll just gossip with each other about it
And none of us in any way will ever doubt it.
After all, the bible I didn’t read condemns it
So, even though more of society permits it
It really isn’t right, they condemn me to hell.
Oh, I have heard this lame tale that they tell.
Of course, I read that book and they’re wrong.
They changed the story as time went along.
But they’d know all that if they took a look
And actually read their religion’s book.
So, decades ago, I changed my thoughts
And now use on them what they have taught.
I nudge and wink and agree not to discuss
The crap they do and their errors about us.
I don’t ask them with who they are cheating
Or other Christian teaching they are defeating
By paying attention to the mote in my eye
By my love for a perfectly respectable guy.
Jul 15, 2018
Jul 15, 2018 at 2:42 PM UTC
Master made a tax collector out of me,
Graced me with the scent of gold,
Fresh and stale and warm and cold.
The masses warned me for my fate to be
"The Forth Circle awaits, behold!"
In hushed whispers I was told.
But a poor, blind man now I cannot see
The price upon my head sold,
One more soul to collection old.
Apr 14, 2018
Apr 14, 2018 at 1:51 AM UTC
Whence a shadow
Ceases to be a shadow,
Love can be seen
In the Light
That hath vanquished
The pain in its iniquity.
Who I am ceases to be
When the
Beneficent Matriarch Mirror
Unfurls the Pandemonium
Ruminant behind the glass.
For this umbra
Is still the darkness
Of a heart
Eclipsed
In its own Dark Orbit.
Until the Dawn
Shines Eden
Upon Flourishing Spirits
Purged of the
Loveless Blight
Existing only in their minds and hearts.
Nov 26, 2017
Nov 26, 2017 at 9:06 PM UTC
All is quiet in the house. Your slumber is almost the loudest voice in my head.
I can only sit idly by and watch faceless creatures of my rage battle with no armor.
Reaching outward, spinning within,
I grasp at letting go.
All I know is something I treasure, yet wish to lose.
Empty pockets don’t drop many coins.
Eternity taunts my limited time ticking without a halt towards a future that ceases to exist.
Faith in lack seems to be all we’re granted.
The riddler laughs at my fate.
Surrender to this cruel joke is all I can do within its confinement.
The escape route has a road block, and armed guards ordered to shoot on sight.
Every pleasure is lined with thorns and ***** my weakened hands.
Alone is all we can ever be.
The gift of senses is our curse in this nightmare dressed as enchantment.
Wolf in sheep's clothing, he nips at my ankles.
If I stumble I lose a foot,
If I fall I lose my life.
Buried amongst the leaves is my hope to comprehend.
But no knowledge can ever cut through these chains that bind my ability to be free.
My tears contain my rage,
my rage contains my innocent notion that drives me to madness.
The simple yearning to love without condition, to touch without getting burned.
Where did goodness lose the battle?
Eve ate the fruit that grants her breath, birthing her condemnation.
No handbook to guide us.
No map to get us through this maze.
We cannot know what kills us till we die.
This utopia has no order.
No leader.
no captain at the helm.
So many souls lost at sea, until the waves break their vessels and swallow their strength to persevere.
I ache to be a shepherd without consequence.
It's hard to stand on broken limbs.
The pain is all that cradles my fall.
Hush little baby, don't say a word when you're mockingbird cannot fly.
The dish ran away with the spoon,
The little girls laughs as I eat with my hands.
Mar 1, 2017
Mar 1, 2017 at 6:33 PM UTC
There's a lady in the morning fog
who feeds on porcelain thoughts,
And she haunts the edges March.
There are no five point dancers
With their evening red and gold.
Ready and willing to tumble and fall.
Just her, alone; In the bog
listening to us all.
The beasts only swim, crawl, and fly
By the Sycamore, rotten and petrified.
In Death there is life
And all ears are amplified.
"Testify."
**"Are you the soul that brings fear?
The Specter of my own Heresy?
Get off the wind and answer me.
Will you light the wild and chant the Lord's Prayer?"**
*"Through all my inequities I'll never
know sin like you.
Whip the poor and condemn the youth.
Blame the ******
Clergymen tend to always do.*
"We are justified!
**To do what we do
Is the work of the lord!
Truth will always bend
To the ambassadors' works."**
The feast is for the thin, chalked with divine
And those on shore: honest and rectified.
Breath is man's plight,
And all eyes lie.
There's a man waiting at the edge of dawn
Who purges a man of his own thoughts
He owns his defiled marsh.
There are no five point answers
Without their threaded holes
Steadily fulfilling to us all.
Just him, enthroned; on a rock
Judging us as we fall.
Feb 14, 2017
Feb 14, 2017 at 2:39 PM UTC
Sing to me a song of fear,
for all the lovers you've held so dear.
You'll listen and watch their fallen tears
and call their names, not knowing they're near.
Sing to me a song of shame,
for all the blissful sins you've named;
wallow in burdens and sorrow and pain
and crimson from which you've carelessly stained.
Sing to me a song of night,
for all the times you've tried to hide
from the truth and reality of all your lies
as you see them now; your angels all die.
Sing to me a song of love,
as you walk away, unscathed from above.
You fly, now free, now white as a dove.
But you smile, and know
you've had enough.
Aug 11, 2016
Aug 11, 2016 at 8:46 AM UTC