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#tool
Competition who really can see and not lose to themselves, Can't chasing desires be like holding a broken shield that is slowly decaying, In whatever battle inside can be the will to strive, and the will to lose grasp of and give in to themselves, The day will come where the human race will be recompensed and accounted for such can seem so distant yet is so close this is Yawm al Qiyamah
0
4d ago
May 30, 2026 at 5:50 AM UTC
Tool
Hallucinations are a deadly tool, encompassing all the same, a lightweight sword is gently picked, a lure for minds that seem sane. A brightly colored flower in sight, once like the bearer’s face; perhaps it’s only the wind that moves or something has taken its place. If the clicking of the mind are sound, how well the flower thrives; yet the holder waits for unseen sand to fall and dim what once burned bright. And in that pause, so still, so thin, where nothing feels quite right, the world bends softly in their grasp and slips away from sight.
0
Apr 30
Apr 30, 2026 at 4:49 PM UTC
A Poppy
Exchange ideas with me, we are all equally entertained enough. We with this access proven by its users, we in twos and threes are stirring thought to word in forms quietly thinkable, perhaps soon directly into the Amazon Cloud by way of Claude using us, we the windbags and prognosticators and critical thinking auto-did-act- initial reset criteria conscience, comma breathers, acting spiritual, inside out and back broken boys become broken men, but there are causes. Arrogancy assuming significant design involved fingerprints. Calculate the compute required to define me to any database. If memory serves us well, nine points of similarity, overlaid, measured perfect fit, fittest of all possible persons ever alive, fittest to your life's chaos fall from floating free to re thinking, boom, into a life with literacy available to any curious child. By 2016, we have boomer offspring conniving a way to float up from the chthonic origins unwanted pregnancies produce, dark models movies make us all see via UHD imbedded detail, constant digital articulated noise engulfing all curiosity juices, sighing, science consciously used to remember, a poet, from a single introduction, remember that line, written in the shadow of Mt. Humphrey Who would steal my cuff-links, and leave my sunsets. Rhetorical skill of the average assisting intelligence, is nil. Nobody likes copies, that's why we have fingerprints. It's code. For you. Like a QR code, to prove you are you, and therefore allow your coming to this point, this once, I imagined you, wondering some catch phrase from enculturated dramatic, whatting ? thehellofitis, it's all in our five point plan, perhaps life in the mind is lived as it is written, already the writing is the living in the letter's mind. The mystery of that which letteth being taken out of the way, the way is open to let us think we agree, now is new, the way we are able to ask ourselves if we agree, now is new, the way ever is each day, each time a line is cast to hook a thinker, every added y a choice, to think or wait, floating through time processing probability, the way to make peace, as the place, peace-at-last final resting place for what you thought you were, before deciding rightly we are what we think we are. We are probably the first generation with these tools. We imagined such things reading Sunday Funnies. **** Tracy had an Apple Watch and his kid had a lunar wife, Artimis, my moonshadow mistress, has a lunar alignment arranging our mindsharing satellites.
0
Apr 11
Apr 11, 2026 at 3:05 PM UTC
Using Freedom from the pressing entertaining news
Exchange ideas with me, we are all equally entertained enough. We with this access proven by its users, we in twos and threes are stirring thought to word in forms quietly thinkable, perhaps soon directly into the Amazon Cloud by way of Claude using us, we the windbags and prognosticators and critical thinking auto-did-act- initial reset criteria conscience, comma breathers, acting spiritual, inside out and back broken boys become broken men, but there are causes. Arrogancy assuming significant design involved fingerprints. Calculate the compute required to define me to any database. If memory serves us well, nine points of similarity, overlaid, measured perfect fit, fittest of all possible persons ever alive, fittest to your life's chaos fall from floating free to re thinking, boom, into a life with literacy available to any curious child. By 2016, we have boomer offspring conniving a way to float up from the chthonic origins unwanted pregnancies produce, dark models movies make us all see via UHD imbedded detail, constant digital articulated noise engulfing all curiosity juices, sighing, science consciously used to remember, a poet, from a single introduction, remember that line, written in the shadow of Mt. Humphrey Who would steal my cuff-links, and leave my sunsets. Rhetorical skill of the average assisting intelligence, is nil. Nobody likes copies, that's why we have fingerprints. It's code. For you. Like a QR code, to prove you are you, and therefore allow your coming to this point, this once, I imagined you, wondering some catch phrase from enculturated dramatic, whatting ? thehellofitis, it's all in our five point plan, perhaps life in the mind is lived as it is written, already the writing is the living in the letter's mind. The mystery of that which letteth being taken out of the way, the way is open to let us think we agree, now is new, the way we are able to ask ourselves if we agree, now is new, the way ever is each day, each time a line is cast to hook a thinker, every added y a choice, to think or wait, floating through time processing probability, the way to make peace, as the place, peace-at-last final resting place for what you thought you were, before deciding rightly we are what we think we are. We are probably the first generation with these tools. We imagined such things reading Sunday Funnies. **** Tracy had an Apple Watch and his kid had a lunar wife, Artimis, my moonshadow mistress, has a lunar alignment arranging our mindsharing satellites.
Continue reading...
50
the office sits still the tremble of it's hands the glitch of days within i walk down some hall and a man passes me by with a mop and bucket i feel the water lick my leg, i feel the grip of hands on it's handle though it stays where it is someone drills an unreadable sign to the wall and i feel the screws dig to my bones though they stay where they are placed i walk through my office door they're dismantling my computer a piece within it cracks and i fall to the floor a tool
0
Feb 12, 2025
Feb 12, 2025 at 11:40 AM UTC
the tool
The poet’s shadow is exposed page after page a ranting rave of confronted truths trending lies our poetic shadow is our guide.. The opus of our secret love desires dance beyond our dreams where the shadow shines it’s lust hear the victims victorious scream.. Fear not the shadow embrace the bad we have done and the bad we will do to integrate our shadow is to grow leap and bounds when we finally break through ……..
0
Jan 9, 2025
Jan 9, 2025 at 4:55 PM UTC
THE POET’S SHADOW
*** _/ həʊ/_ An agricultural tool consisting of a long handle with a flat blade fixed perpendicular to it at the end, used for digging rows. __I am a *** a tool used by others, the opposite of firmament and freedom; all feelings that are flat __I am a *** a tool to dig out one’s successes, an instinct in the land, where you’ll bury a seed of your dreams __I am a *** a tool that sits and waits on the side-lines in my own filth; as none are willing to check on my wellbeing __I am a *** a tool with a once promising purpose, but my sharpness has gone dull; unable to hold on, my handle made short __I am a *** a tool with the job of working for others; hours after hour, with no end- but I cannot work on my own, I cannot carry my own weight- I need people’s constant support __I am a *** a tool of your convenience- how convenient is that; to be something that cuts, digs, scrapes, turns, arranges and cleans… as you cut out my heart, scrape at every beat, turning me over to get pleasure from both sides; arranging the pieces of my soul, all that you had cleaned out… __I am a *** a tool for you all, ha- a piece of wood; a fixed perpendicular appearance, and the assurance of you not giving a **** _[Excuse my French]_ to care for a ***** old ***
0
Jul 18, 2024
Jul 18, 2024 at 8:39 AM UTC
*** Interlude
So likewise ye, when ye shall have done all those things which are commanded you, say, We are unprofitable servants: we have done that which was our duty to do. You, lazy little 'twerdnerd. Easy. Live. Take my truth, let this mind be in you, it does the hard part for you. Ai ai ai this guy, I tol' you, extol the road, ride on, cowboy. Let go. Re laxation, enemystic, plop. Plot to end with a thousand swings gnosis-not-burger 'n' fries swung wide and low. Sweet cherry '63. Once belonged to the gayest geometry teacher ever, eh, in Kingman, Arizona. Mr. Zubek, annual faculty advisor to Optimist Club, Annual (also)Highschool Boys Speech Contest, bi- annually, he traded in his Chevrolet. -- voice of experience, That triggered this then, not now I saw a ****** lowrider, brand new, showroom floor, yep, a certain mind set, kept with odd links, missed opportunities to go the other way, kicks the BTDT system of old ahas, and ahs, as once imagined… not possible, pre dementia. Wait for it, should you live so long, it all runs together beautifully, to match the beauty of the messenger's feet, in your cultural awareness of total unknowing- to eternity, and beyond. The Bill and Ted Trilogy, vs Left Behind. So, crates of lemons have no thorns. See, Lemon trees have big ol' thorns, but lemon wreaths, all on a bough snipped, thorns and all, to show those who never picked a lemon, and won life's sweetest point. Such wreaths are December treasures, if you know where they grow 'em. You can sell them, or give them away, the beauty in the whole fruiting sprig goes along.
0
May 8, 2023
May 8, 2023 at 1:27 AM UTC
re-aspired twist on true beauty
So likewise ye, when ye shall have done all those things which are commanded you, say, We are unprofitable servants: we have done that which was our duty to do. You, lazy little 'twerdnerd. Easy. Live. Take my truth, let this mind be in you, it does the hard part for you. Ai ai ai this guy, I tol' you, extol the road, ride on, cowboy. Let go. Re laxation, enemystic, plop. Plot to end with a thousand swings gnosis-not-burger 'n' fries swung wide and low. Sweet cherry '63. Once belonged to the gayest geometry teacher ever, eh, in Kingman, Arizona. Mr. Zubek, annual faculty advisor to Optimist Club, Annual (also)Highschool Boys Speech Contest, bi- annually, he traded in his Chevrolet. -- voice of experience, That triggered this then, not now I saw a ****** lowrider, brand new, showroom floor, yep, a certain mind set, kept with odd links, missed opportunities to go the other way, kicks the BTDT system of old ahas, and ahs, as once imagined… not possible, pre dementia. Wait for it, should you live so long, it all runs together beautifully, to match the beauty of the messenger's feet, in your cultural awareness of total unknowing- to eternity, and beyond. The Bill and Ted Trilogy, vs Left Behind. So, crates of lemons have no thorns. See, Lemon trees have big ol' thorns, but lemon wreaths, all on a bough snipped, thorns and all, to show those who never picked a lemon, and won life's sweetest point. Such wreaths are December treasures, if you know where they grow 'em. You can sell them, or give them away, the beauty in the whole fruiting sprig goes along.
Continue reading...
46
A pencil is Such a wonderful tool. Sharpen it well, Or you will write like a fool.
0
Apr 13, 2022
Apr 13, 2022 at 8:37 AM UTC
Pencil
* I'd rather you use bombs and knives, I'd rather you use guns and swords. I'd rather that we would have fights; that you'd leave me with open sores. I'd rather you find a different weapon, a different tool to use on me. I wish you'd make me feel a pain; I wish you'd leave me weak and ****** Yet the sharpest tool is what you use; you leave me dead inside. I wish you'd tear my heart out; I wish I would have died. You open your mouth and the weapons spill out, you're armed with words that you scream and shout. The pain is unbearable, the torture indescribable. I know there's no point in putting up a struggle. You **** me, one by one, your words an open **** They slice me up in pieces, making me feel like trash. All I can be is silent; I know that is the best. I try to block them out, but they're already in my chest. Your words are killing me; a slow, antagonizing death. Each word you say cuts me, each wound raw and fresh. I wish you'd let me be, I wish you'd leave it unsaid. I guess you just can't see you can't bring someone back from the dead. *
0
Apr 1, 2022
Apr 1, 2022 at 8:58 PM UTC
Open Wounds
With heavy heart I grieved the death Of who you pretended to be... And now I shall enjoy a brand new Fresh reality! That manifest beyond Our unfortunate dearly departed friendship' A sweet eulogy ya see! Funeral's need not be sad!
0
Jul 29, 2021
Jul 29, 2021 at 8:13 AM UTC
Death Of A Friendship
Once a bridge was nothing more than an abstract tool for reasoning. But one day, this very abstract tool for reasoning became the literal direct opposing opposite to this very operation. (The operation that was meant to be disposed of from the very get-go!) But something stopped that from becoming a seamless reality... After all, seamless is nothing more than predictable tension in the right places that don't normally fit into the very crowd of normalities itself. But the universe is connected by such truths that don't normally (either), point its own self in the right direction full of directionless odds that don't poke and **** your very potential progression forward...if it wasn't truly for the very bridge that again, (as an abstract took for reasoning), points these very directionless odds into a newer meaning than ever before. Hence, an abstract tool (obviously) when dealing with such tension involving the universal boundaries and conditions and features and traits and meanings and properties that surround itself among many other things in its general surroundings that bear itself too much for an actual correct dose of conquest to deal with all at one single time. Basically, because if that was the actual case (all at one single time...) Then it'd be a non-localized protocol that would pave the way for ALL such manufacturing projects in one single action! (And non-localized making such advances in the very field of study, for the very meaning that happens all at once, not within the same boundaries from one another, length and size wise.) Seeing as how big the universe really is, with still too this very date is filled with such EXTREME (unknown sizes and expectations of it, regardless of its own such limits regulated by the very anticipated push for discovery itself). There wouldn't even be a certain timeframe for things to have its own say (in for how ever long they want to take). Instead, you have something happening all at one time, where everything is truly about one thing, and one thing, ONLY... Nothing is about progression (or even the very process of actually getting it done) when it's all about the bridge that reasons out the very different areas and points of many likelihoods that don't limit its own variety to its own protocols...when their own hunger is trying to go about achieving one's own aim, or goal of precipitation... When it's entirely longer than the standing idea...that nothing is without flawless results, if and ONLY if...you make it or break its very abstract tool for reasoning itself! If and only if you do, then you’re looking at yourself as nothing more than the very truthful meaning for "treason." Once you commit treason... You’re also breaking the connection with the bridge who's meant to connect everything in one single action for conquest. (And not the misguided mindset for simply achieving a consequence full of such disorder.) If that were the actual case, then everything isn't as connected as one would previously think. Especially when your very abstract tool for reasoning is the very reasoning for shame in the face of such irrational thinking. Hence, when different mixtures of fate and probability confront the very limitations (upon their own such instances full to brim of primal instances and events...) That's when the bridge that is meant to connect an entire universe together. Becomes the greatest story ever told about a bridge who also...became the abstract tool for reasoning.
0
Apr 4, 2021
Apr 4, 2021 at 1:27 PM UTC
The Greatest Story Ever Told Is About A Bridge Who Connected An Entire Universe Together.
Once a bridge was nothing more than an abstract tool for reasoning. But one day, this very abstract tool for reasoning became the literal direct opposing opposite to this very operation. (The operation that was meant to be disposed of from the very get-go!) But something stopped that from becoming a seamless reality... After all, seamless is nothing more than predictable tension in the right places that don't normally fit into the very crowd of normalities itself. But the universe is connected by such truths that don't normally (either), point its own self in the right direction full of directionless odds that don't poke and **** your very potential progression forward...if it wasn't truly for the very bridge that again, (as an abstract took for reasoning), points these very directionless odds into a newer meaning than ever before. Hence, an abstract tool (obviously) when dealing with such tension involving the universal boundaries and conditions and features and traits and meanings and properties that surround itself among many other things in its general surroundings that bear itself too much for an actual correct dose of conquest to deal with all at one single time. Basically, because if that was the actual case (all at one single time...) Then it'd be a non-localized protocol that would pave the way for ALL such manufacturing projects in one single action! (And non-localized making such advances in the very field of study, for the very meaning that happens all at once, not within the same boundaries from one another, length and size wise.) Seeing as how big the universe really is, with still too this very date is filled with such EXTREME (unknown sizes and expectations of it, regardless of its own such limits regulated by the very anticipated push for discovery itself). There wouldn't even be a certain timeframe for things to have its own say (in for how ever long they want to take). Instead, you have something happening all at one time, where everything is truly about one thing, and one thing, ONLY... Nothing is about progression (or even the very process of actually getting it done) when it's all about the bridge that reasons out the very different areas and points of many likelihoods that don't limit its own variety to its own protocols...when their own hunger is trying to go about achieving one's own aim, or goal of precipitation... When it's entirely longer than the standing idea...that nothing is without flawless results, if and ONLY if...you make it or break its very abstract tool for reasoning itself! If and only if you do, then you’re looking at yourself as nothing more than the very truthful meaning for "treason." Once you commit treason... You’re also breaking the connection with the bridge who's meant to connect everything in one single action for conquest. (And not the misguided mindset for simply achieving a consequence full of such disorder.) If that were the actual case, then everything isn't as connected as one would previously think. Especially when your very abstract tool for reasoning is the very reasoning for shame in the face of such irrational thinking. Hence, when different mixtures of fate and probability confront the very limitations (upon their own such instances full to brim of primal instances and events...) That's when the bridge that is meant to connect an entire universe together. Becomes the greatest story ever told about a bridge who also...became the abstract tool for reasoning.
Continue reading...
17
Bolts go with screwdrivers Wrenches install nails and life keeps going. Sadness goes with anger Empty thoughts will never fill and life keeps going.
0
Nov 19, 2020
Nov 19, 2020 at 9:40 AM UTC
Toolbox
pain is a strange phenomenon i hate it when it happens but after it passes it becomes the most useful learning tool
0
Oct 29, 2020
Oct 29, 2020 at 11:08 AM UTC
learning from pain
it’s a want to own but you are not mine to own neither is anything else that speaks in sacred codes what the moon tells me comes from within but it is not mine what belongs to the world’s heart cannot be owned
0
Jul 7, 2020
Jul 7, 2020 at 11:11 AM UTC
bewilder me
How would you like to die At the end of a pathetic lie Draining the life out of me! Chokehold gasping Memories flashing Would that set your spirit free Deep sea diving Mountain climbing A swarm of angry bees Race car driving Jet air flying Crash and burn In misery Don’t you die Don’t you die for me!
0
Apr 5, 2020
Apr 5, 2020 at 8:33 AM UTC
Pathetic
Spiral in. Spiral out. But always spiraling about. Never and end, since I began. A spiral is all I really am.
0
Jan 31, 2020
Jan 31, 2020 at 6:32 PM UTC
Spiral
Of all the tools which I might use To help my wealth to grow My mind is first - it’s what I choose, The best tool that I know I can collect ideas from friends Not “reinvent“ the wheel I can reap wholesome dividends Creating something real This world will always gladly pay For things which they desire And my best tool provides a way To “think” what they require And with my mind I work to build Increased life for every soul With my best tool I will grow skilled And reach my dreams and goals
0
Dec 13, 2019
Dec 13, 2019 at 12:43 PM UTC
The Best Tool (Prosperity Poem 59)
******* Just what science required, Enticed by bioengineering, Nucleotides it concerned, Nucleosides it can fix, Increasing the methods, For editing genome, Errors in the genes it fixes, Righting some wrongs of mother nature. Decoded by a wonderful lady, On a day of helplessness, Utilizing this tool we are now, Debted by science and technology, Neat-handed through practice we become, Always we shall utilize CRISPR-Cas9 for good. Few people notice that DNA is the suffix of her name.
0
Sep 13, 2019
Sep 13, 2019 at 1:19 PM UTC
Mother Genius
I remember now It seems like it... Was just like yesterday They shut me in.. Into this endless maze They locked a door Suddenly there was me! My heart is older now   Still longing to be free... I am with you at Every single turn Set a fire and Set and watch it burn Someone to see you through Until the darkness settles Share in my deep Raging passion For death fracking metal Amen!!
0
Sep 2, 2019
Sep 2, 2019 at 6:47 PM UTC
BY THE WAYSIDE
Pulsing and Pushing I feel it in my veins Nothing physical Cut me open It don't drain Watch the blood drip As you search Through my remains Looking for the power But it's only in you Oh the Electricity Pumping and powering My brain Static in the air From a human it's sang We all produce the power To be alive To control your mind Because it isn't theirs Free your life
0
Aug 29, 2019
Aug 29, 2019 at 1:04 PM UTC
Life Force
Poetry is an escape, a tool, a gift, a freedom. Use it. Use it wisely.
0
Jun 13, 2019
Jun 13, 2019 at 8:14 PM UTC
My Escape
You're So Skinny, you say to me, I Wish I Had a Waist Like Yours, you say like it's a compliment. But I never agreed to spice up your own personal recipe for low self-esteem If you persist in this body belief I will no longer be your body's relief Go find another Skinny to feed your grief
0
May 2, 2019
May 2, 2019 at 4:44 PM UTC
Unwilling Instrument
_ i am just a cog in the machine. a tool of the man but i know God will still use me for his Purpose. so call me a tool but this tool serves a purpose. _
0
Mar 21, 2019
Mar 21, 2019 at 3:12 PM UTC
God's tool.