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#superior
So you know I don't believe A ton of the **** I'm musing on, But rather I am just musing on it. Yet, we know of violent extremists Which we are funding Who do believe in similar rhetoric; But I am guilty? No. **** you and **** that. Where's my army funds? Where are my weapons and munitions? Oh, right. I forgot. The Irish aren't people, No need to apply.
0
Apr 13, 2025
Apr 13, 2025 at 10:02 AM UTC
Riders of the Sidhe
courting breaths   after blue i brighten        i lighten   with originless humour and then ugliness anew                              i tighten   into some packed pearl of monster breathe in   breathe out   courting breaths the susurration    of all this lung resuscitation    and it's 'good morning mourning' then 'bring out the empathy' !  and zitty connections and marvel over   'those poor things'           larval in their struggles   up the redline and envision throwing them heaps                of hairdryers  salad spinners  monopoly boards             vibrating cushions  for back massage and obscure tinned delicacies  from my extensive travels the five devils of my mind  tackle my erratic breath five mad ideas  of how to run their lives                         milk their hive form a worship  and go to war.. ..then it is i who goes larval                                             carving in on my minuscule heart crutching in like a fractured pill bug not daring to raise my eyes                    for fear of offending my superiors breathe in   breathe out counting down the breaths til rattle
0
Feb 17, 2025
Feb 17, 2025 at 4:48 PM UTC
lung bean
**(trigger warning: my apologies to the long poem haters, nah, not really)** <> Dawg! your last and latest test be driving me crazee- the poem conception birth rate is out of control, them titles intriguing, stinging, falling like curling up and dying oak leaves crunchy neath my feet, and this little town don’t allow no burning thereof, inclusive of leaves, poem drafts or witches it’s not only the skin-pores, inhaling, but the braniac neurons that are clogging up (ex. where’s my coffee mug hiding when it ain’t hiding in the microwave) and there ain’t no legal Drano for the upper cortex contextual, and condoms on my ears looked upright atrifling, small & unbecoming,  so pse. put a lid on it, without sacrificing my nice head of grayling fibers you graciously let me inherit ~ (thanks mom!) soooo, need to provide a method of contraception, legal and100% poem~proof, to keep me in decent metal health, with a natural speed limit on steadily in~fluxing immigrants of seditious inspirational insights, and these insider’s outside sights/sighs that my eyes catalogue, and remind/tell, as well, my buddies, the animals and the elements, who constantly are hinting ‘n suggesting themselves for yet another scripture of praiseworthy adoration (esp. the rabbits, the ospreys, & the nighttime starry skies, a living tableaux de peinture…) to pretty please cease and desist before I seize (up) and de-exist, overwhelmed by piles of dead leaves and out of computer memory for anymore inspiration retention Your earliest attention to this Matter of Urgency to me, and What‘a that you said? Start a petition? You kidding? Might as we try to buy indulgences, in bulk at Costco, though they are never in stock! I get it. Using Pandora as your voice never fails. You just played Judy Collins singing Pete Seeger’s Turn,Turn, Turn. Unsubtle. This is my seasonal hint too, part of my timed descent towards the shadowed valleys + visible peaks I’ve occasionally reached My finale’s approchment nigh, yet, don’t turn my heart or my senses just quite yet, from the spark divine you have placed within us each, don’t let it burn brightest before it flames out of existence into extinction. Appreciate the heads up, really Most don’t know ‘bout this method of our conversing, and the hint, the seasonal changeover, taking place now, is mourned by my utterance with every breath of a Kaddish prayer contained within a larger message: natty, it’s time to turn, turn, turn Which way when, of courses, you’ll musically clue me in… but you impatient being, drawn after all in the shape of humans, fast forwards, nay hurtles this human, with chariots spun from a summer sun’s fonts and hints, accidents and incidents, by spectacles through spectacles, colors emboldened by   in a glory, glory, glorious sun-nation **** Vienna Teng sweetly invades singing Homecoming (Walter,’s Song): “*but things are good I've got a lot of followers of my faith I've got a whole congregation living in my head these days and I'm preaching from the pulpit to cries of “Amen brother” closing my eyes to feel the warmth come back and I've come home even though I swear I've never been so alone I've come home I just want to be living as I'm dying just like everybody here just want to know my little flicker of time is worthwhile and I don't know where I'm driving to but I know I'm getting old and there's a blessing in every moment every mile…* *well I'll kneel down on the carpet here though I never was sure of God think tonight I'll give Him the benefit of the doubt I switch off the lights and imagine that waitress outlined in the bed her hair falling all around me I smile and shake my head well we all write our own endings and we all have our own scars but tonight I think I see what it's all about because I've come home I've come home.”* (lyrics by Tom Hall) Got it. so many summarize better, but even still a bit heavy handed when you follow up with  Sting’s “Fields of Gold,” and even, jeez, Louse, “Danny Boy?!” Your DJ is a ham (I know, not exactly kosher). It’s my season of the muse, extracting every remaining incantation, knowing  there are hundreds, thousands, of notional ideations in my draft files, some born even before HP! But deny them not their use, they cannot remain forever unemployed, but at their peril, double toil and trouble, be them entrusted, encrusted, secreted in someone else’s existence, by your annoying divine persistence Demanding Being, have you no sense of sufficiency? (1) Eva so sweet Cassidy ends this trip with “Who knows where the time goes ?” Gonna pack up this ditty, containing a peace of deity, drive back to the city where all my sorrows are streeted above ground, inescapable resounded … now down to  2% battery (ramming) and this cracked -screen whispers too gently, “no mas” my dearest companion, you still don’t know when to shut up, or call it quits, but I’m hearing a new crew old familiar poets, awaiting, who will take one up & in, relieve you of you earthly sins, and I hear up there, you’ve got unlimited data storage and no need for cords and batteries Seeing the schooner drawing nigh, must be the season of ‘at last, here is Shelter,’ repentance (2) <> n.m.l. Weds. Sept 4, 2024 while sitting by my dock on the sound, who insists that it’s soundless wavings of water get the last silent mention published Friday Sept. 6,, Sabbath Eve p.s. (and that’s how u put the playlist in an Audio Visual poem,, kid)
0
Sep 6, 2024
Sep 6, 2024 at 8:13 AM UTC
Dear Superior Being, (to everything, there is a season)
**(trigger warning: my apologies to the long poem haters, nah, not really)** <> Dawg! your last and latest test be driving me crazee- the poem conception birth rate is out of control, them titles intriguing, stinging, falling like curling up and dying oak leaves crunchy neath my feet, and this little town don’t allow no burning thereof, inclusive of leaves, poem drafts or witches it’s not only the skin-pores, inhaling, but the braniac neurons that are clogging up (ex. where’s my coffee mug hiding when it ain’t hiding in the microwave) and there ain’t no legal Drano for the upper cortex contextual, and condoms on my ears looked upright atrifling, small & unbecoming,  so pse. put a lid on it, without sacrificing my nice head of grayling fibers you graciously let me inherit ~ (thanks mom!) soooo, need to provide a method of contraception, legal and100% poem~proof, to keep me in decent metal health, with a natural speed limit on steadily in~fluxing immigrants of seditious inspirational insights, and these insider’s outside sights/sighs that my eyes catalogue, and remind/tell, as well, my buddies, the animals and the elements, who constantly are hinting ‘n suggesting themselves for yet another scripture of praiseworthy adoration (esp. the rabbits, the ospreys, & the nighttime starry skies, a living tableaux de peinture…) to pretty please cease and desist before I seize (up) and de-exist, overwhelmed by piles of dead leaves and out of computer memory for anymore inspiration retention Your earliest attention to this Matter of Urgency to me, and What‘a that you said? Start a petition? You kidding? Might as we try to buy indulgences, in bulk at Costco, though they are never in stock! I get it. Using Pandora as your voice never fails. You just played Judy Collins singing Pete Seeger’s Turn,Turn, Turn. Unsubtle. This is my seasonal hint too, part of my timed descent towards the shadowed valleys + visible peaks I’ve occasionally reached My finale’s approchment nigh, yet, don’t turn my heart or my senses just quite yet, from the spark divine you have placed within us each, don’t let it burn brightest before it flames out of existence into extinction. Appreciate the heads up, really Most don’t know ‘bout this method of our conversing, and the hint, the seasonal changeover, taking place now, is mourned by my utterance with every breath of a Kaddish prayer contained within a larger message: natty, it’s time to turn, turn, turn Which way when, of courses, you’ll musically clue me in… but you impatient being, drawn after all in the shape of humans, fast forwards, nay hurtles this human, with chariots spun from a summer sun’s fonts and hints, accidents and incidents, by spectacles through spectacles, colors emboldened by   in a glory, glory, glorious sun-nation **** Vienna Teng sweetly invades singing Homecoming (Walter,’s Song): “*but things are good I've got a lot of followers of my faith I've got a whole congregation living in my head these days and I'm preaching from the pulpit to cries of “Amen brother” closing my eyes to feel the warmth come back and I've come home even though I swear I've never been so alone I've come home I just want to be living as I'm dying just like everybody here just want to know my little flicker of time is worthwhile and I don't know where I'm driving to but I know I'm getting old and there's a blessing in every moment every mile…* *well I'll kneel down on the carpet here though I never was sure of God think tonight I'll give Him the benefit of the doubt I switch off the lights and imagine that waitress outlined in the bed her hair falling all around me I smile and shake my head well we all write our own endings and we all have our own scars but tonight I think I see what it's all about because I've come home I've come home.”* (lyrics by Tom Hall) Got it. so many summarize better, but even still a bit heavy handed when you follow up with  Sting’s “Fields of Gold,” and even, jeez, Louse, “Danny Boy?!” Your DJ is a ham (I know, not exactly kosher). It’s my season of the muse, extracting every remaining incantation, knowing  there are hundreds, thousands, of notional ideations in my draft files, some born even before HP! But deny them not their use, they cannot remain forever unemployed, but at their peril, double toil and trouble, be them entrusted, encrusted, secreted in someone else’s existence, by your annoying divine persistence Demanding Being, have you no sense of sufficiency? (1) Eva so sweet Cassidy ends this trip with “Who knows where the time goes ?” Gonna pack up this ditty, containing a peace of deity, drive back to the city where all my sorrows are streeted above ground, inescapable resounded … now down to  2% battery (ramming) and this cracked -screen whispers too gently, “no mas” my dearest companion, you still don’t know when to shut up, or call it quits, but I’m hearing a new crew old familiar poets, awaiting, who will take one up & in, relieve you of you earthly sins, and I hear up there, you’ve got unlimited data storage and no need for cords and batteries Seeing the schooner drawing nigh, must be the season of ‘at last, here is Shelter,’ repentance (2) <> n.m.l. Weds. Sept 4, 2024 while sitting by my dock on the sound, who insists that it’s soundless wavings of water get the last silent mention published Friday Sept. 6,, Sabbath Eve p.s. (and that’s how u put the playlist in an Audio Visual poem,, kid)
Continue reading...
189
It has been proposed or even postulated, posed that love is defined, finite I say, no, not right Infinite and timeless we think we know the end the wish and even hope too rise above, and ascend We'll break the arch of time and challenge god too know to understand and rise where to be, and go Follow me, I'll follow you we'll reach and grasp the ring nothing left, but follow through not where we've lived, and loved But all, we are and been
0
Jul 19, 2020
Jul 19, 2020 at 7:27 PM UTC
Complexities of us, beyond
dearly beloved Kagan only to brighten robe in La Jolla with Saint Mark there on the Square when Harlem was despair yet Georgetown there made this legal parade mirrored in this Fall of 2020
0
Jun 18, 2020
Jun 18, 2020 at 12:48 PM UTC
Court Of The Briar Patch
Differences built us up so high We see the world from the sky, Clinging to the topmost branch, The way down is to fall apart.
0
Jun 17, 2020
Jun 17, 2020 at 11:36 AM UTC
They Look Up - They Look Down
we're from the south we're coming for you we're giving you the wrong address in order to hunt you don't you worry about it don't you feel intimidated it's fine being inferior don't ya think bro?
0
Nov 17, 2019
Nov 17, 2019 at 1:46 PM UTC
Bad Boys
Oh you, my lovely dandy, it's not easy to understand you. You're on the top - Superior in everything, above everyone.
0
May 16, 2019
May 16, 2019 at 6:17 AM UTC
Thought #4
This way to the show, folks The most amazing show you have ever seen Bigger, wider, deeper Wondrous and terrifying More beautiful than your dreams Uglier than you can imagine And all for free If you speak very loosely, that is Watch your step son Don’t trip on the unintended consequences Step right this way There’s no time like the present In fact there’s no time left at all Take a peek behind the curtain if you dare What’s the worst that could happen Probably best not to think too much about it See the man without a plan Watch him stumble through life Be amazed as he defies death on the streets His struggles with addiction will amuse you Enjoy the bitterness of his regrets Be stupefied by the clueless wonder Taken advantage of at every turn Thrill as he turns into the human doormat Feel free to wipe your shoes on him He likes it, really Prepare your senses for the shock of The compassionate woman Stand bewildered as she is betrayed by lovers Gasp as she weeps for people she does not know Make her a promise as you leave fellas You will make her day You will be stunned by the man who is not like you Be horrified at his minor differences Criticize all his perceived flaws Feel free to mock him, he is used to it What’s that ma’am No don’t feel sorry for them They like it here Three hots and a cot you know Only some humiliation each night And twice on Saturdays Come one, come all Leave the show smug and satisfied About how much better you are Than these miserable examples of failure All this and more and not one penny to enter The only fee is part of your humanity Just drop it in the box right here On your way in
0
Oct 15, 2018
Oct 15, 2018 at 11:56 AM UTC
Side Show
This way to the show, folks The most amazing show you have ever seen Bigger, wider, deeper Wondrous and terrifying More beautiful than your dreams Uglier than you can imagine And all for free If you speak very loosely, that is Watch your step son Don’t trip on the unintended consequences Step right this way There’s no time like the present In fact there’s no time left at all Take a peek behind the curtain if you dare What’s the worst that could happen Probably best not to think too much about it See the man without a plan Watch him stumble through life Be amazed as he defies death on the streets His struggles with addiction will amuse you Enjoy the bitterness of his regrets Be stupefied by the clueless wonder Taken advantage of at every turn Thrill as he turns into the human doormat Feel free to wipe your shoes on him He likes it, really Prepare your senses for the shock of The compassionate woman Stand bewildered as she is betrayed by lovers Gasp as she weeps for people she does not know Make her a promise as you leave fellas You will make her day You will be stunned by the man who is not like you Be horrified at his minor differences Criticize all his perceived flaws Feel free to mock him, he is used to it What’s that ma’am No don’t feel sorry for them They like it here Three hots and a cot you know Only some humiliation each night And twice on Saturdays Come one, come all Leave the show smug and satisfied About how much better you are Than these miserable examples of failure All this and more and not one penny to enter The only fee is part of your humanity Just drop it in the box right here On your way in
Continue reading...
50
In the bay fields expanse complete lake’s glimmered glance Quiet lovers withdraw in solitude entrusting lake’s cleansing mood Her tears drop into soft sea taking dreams noiselessly Waterfalls haste below to autumn’s crisp ember glow Autumn moon, subdued to me deep in clouds, winks on silver sea Driftwood floats, water-bearer of seafarer tales Cold winter blasts like dragons bite or sting. Companions last summer’s thoughts gathering Clouds clad in rainbow. Mortals gaze Master’s rays Wild geese brush Milky Way as Autumn paints Sea beckons me, lovely scenery. Intoxicating Sea waves changeable, like thoughts tempest torn Lone swan flights far in wastes of sky Sunset drifts, visiting mansions April showers paint sailboat, streaming blue sky’s edge Burnt rocks white with dew soaks gauze stockings, once rendezvous Lake Superior heaves and sighs, seagulls shriek greedy cries. Traveler’s homesick Transparent waters, tremble, tumbling. Ferryman anchors Shining streams ripple, cascade upon phantoms of the lake Wind and rain pound terrain like old friends deprive intimacy Dying grass beckons Evening’s first snow
0
May 3, 2018
May 3, 2018 at 12:49 PM UTC
REFLECTIONS
Zippity Zappity Zap Jolt yourself awake Zippity Zappity Zap A spark of inspiration Zippity Zappity Zap Bolt over to the goal Zippity Zappity Zap Shocking that you failed Zippity Zappity Zap Linger in my thunder Zippity Zappity Zap
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Mar 13, 2018
Mar 13, 2018 at 4:59 PM UTC
Superior
Humiliate the crown Of royal blood Whose head's up high And draws imperial line With greedy towers Standing tall And never bows Before his Servants. Oh, bow before the Servants! Whose blood is full of gold Let not a droplet spill And end the serving line Whose shelters sway in awe Hardly standing tall Bows forevermore Before the guiltless crown!
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Nov 9, 2017
Nov 9, 2017 at 10:10 AM UTC
Bow before the Servants
The poor greedy thing. It's mouth full yet it wanted more. What a capricious little thing. Always had a narcissistic look to it. A roof over its head. Food on its plate. Affectionate for love but it had it all. looked up, admired infinite creatures of the sky. It always felt empty inside But it had it all. Poor thing walked around mindlessly so. It understood most of the concepts of life Yet it was empty inside. Until it fell in love with an asymmetrical creature. Created by his lustering existence. It would never have found it, as it always looked up. However this time around it looked down. There it saw that everything it wanted was in that creature's mouth. Soon after, it opened its clasping jaws, To get what was in that creatures mouth. And all it ever had, disappeared. Like the ripples of time in space.
0
Sep 28, 2017
Sep 28, 2017 at 10:22 AM UTC
Spectacle
A baby was born to two angels, Sweet more than honey he was, Page another in history added, Enriched as the parent's beloved, Rosary of loneliness he beaded, Groups he was always hesitated, Enshrined in my body he was, Robbed of happiness always, Securing his own spheres.
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May 12, 2017
May 12, 2017 at 9:10 AM UTC
This Is Why I Am So Special
We meek children took the stage like we borrowed it. I approached the grand piano, and, asking for its acceptance of my novice hands, seated myself before it. To my immediate right, prepared for some unknown challenge, waited our band, our rhythm and melody. Arms raised, fingers gently hovering over keys and strings, we eyed our cue and took it. Three songs turned us from an uncertain bunch to a formidable combination. We stole that stage (as best as any high school combo could do), and suddenly the stage lights didn’t feel so hot; those lights shined for us. I left that piano as a princess leaves a crowd in awe. We proved superior.
0
Mar 22, 2017
Mar 22, 2017 at 6:45 PM UTC
superior
You can hear the children secret cries. You know what the adults have done, But you don't utter a word. The children have no clue why they run, They just know never to disobey, "The superior one." They silence their words, Allowing themselves to leave them in their throat. While they choke on the wild thoughts, As words are throw like daggers at them. The superior ones, That's what they call themselves, But the children see them more as the monsters under their beds. They children don't understand, They just want to make the cruel monsters proud, But their trying just gets throw back at them, With insults as the bonus. The children never utter words, As mentally bruises are put upon their innocent minds. They stay silent as they get bullied away by the superior ones.
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Oct 27, 2016
Oct 27, 2016 at 8:40 AM UTC
"The Superior One"
I wandered through your ways and fell in love with your beauty I touched your soul then allowed it to devour my entirety I fed on you filling me with self-actualization Now, I'm following you with my hopes of finding the path to my own salvation
0
May 31, 2016
May 31, 2016 at 1:40 PM UTC
Submission
The inner beauty of man is far superior to that of the outer, we only need look deep enough within us to see it's greater. It is basically through ignorance most haven't seen this fact, but to actually witness this truth requires extraordinary tact. _______________________________________________
0
Apr 17, 2013
Apr 17, 2013 at 5:10 PM UTC
Quatrain #157 - The inner beauty of man is....
Some people are In Inferiority complex Some having superiority Complex But where is the complex free personality ?
0
Apr 4, 2016
Apr 4, 2016 at 12:25 PM UTC
Complex
I am a mountain not a hill, A fish who needs no gills, You may not believe it, But I’m built of pure grit, I may not shout and scream, But I rein supreme, Inferior I may appear, But built on your sneers.
0
Feb 3, 2016
Feb 3, 2016 at 6:39 AM UTC
Built
The way I see people, They make others enfeeble Just so they stay above the chain. They seem so inhumane, giving others pain. Destroying their way to the future, Foolishly wallowing in their stupor. Although sometimes they show emotion But then get caught in its commotion. Alas! In the end I’m also human today, And maybe tomorrow I’ll decay. So I’ll just try, like every other human To someday be superhuman, To someday rise above this human grime Through my stories and rhyme.
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Sep 8, 2015
Sep 8, 2015 at 1:33 PM UTC
The Way I See People.