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#various
****** Recognition Blues Physicists speculating about a cosmic hologram Anarchists debating about the next message from Uncle Sam The archaic ageing of the technology of the Telegram An innocent waiting for an answer from an Annogram Images of scientific breakthrough projected onto a screen Lineages of ancient history documented by a well structured meme Silhouettes of a symphony expressed in classical themes Pirouettes of a dancer expressing her physical dream Instant ****** recognition at the local petroleum station Distant ignition of a motor designed for mechanical elation Vincent Van Goh without his human ear awaiting non-contamination Stringent processes for fiscal accountability awaiting mass configuration An ominous sound bellowing out from a lonely cello A omnivorous hound yelling out the sound of “hello” A discourteous round shot out of the mouth of the mellow That song by Coldplay -you know the one that they called “Yellow”? Can you see the beauty of your most recent failure forming? Do you feel the energy shift when dawn turns into morning? Have you seen the tired child overworked from labour yawning? Did you hear the broken poet howling sadness out as her calling? Fundamentalist extremists theorising about their obsessions Confrontationalist activists eschewing material possessions An environmentalist prophesising scientifically based confessions A conversationalist espousing verbal directives and regressions Would you exchange your ideology for the sake of monetary gain? Could you pertain to philosophically abandon your perception of pain? Or would you abstain from phenomenologically documenting the acid rain? Or could you categorically state that you’d like to decide before you refrain? Precision elements of reflective detail in recollection Decisions and components of defective mobilisation in your direction Narcissus falling in love with himself, staring at his own reflection Self-confidence that is so pure and strong that it is beyond external correction. Humanitarian aid distributed fairly with efficiency and action Egalitarian ways ignited by early proficiency and dissatisfaction A Libretarian on display as surely as a well defined mathematical protraction A maternity ward without a doctor waiting for the next contraction Remember what the cost was when you held corruption to account ? Dismember all that’s been lost when you want to make it count , Engender memories of the Holocaust as you view Auschwitz from a mount Contender for the Nobel Peace Prize focusing on all that’s paramount By Elizabeth Moroz Copywrite 2023
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Aug 10, 2023
Aug 10, 2023 at 7:24 AM UTC
****** Recognition Blues
****** Recognition Blues Physicists speculating about a cosmic hologram Anarchists debating about the next message from Uncle Sam The archaic ageing of the technology of the Telegram An innocent waiting for an answer from an Annogram Images of scientific breakthrough projected onto a screen Lineages of ancient history documented by a well structured meme Silhouettes of a symphony expressed in classical themes Pirouettes of a dancer expressing her physical dream Instant ****** recognition at the local petroleum station Distant ignition of a motor designed for mechanical elation Vincent Van Goh without his human ear awaiting non-contamination Stringent processes for fiscal accountability awaiting mass configuration An ominous sound bellowing out from a lonely cello A omnivorous hound yelling out the sound of “hello” A discourteous round shot out of the mouth of the mellow That song by Coldplay -you know the one that they called “Yellow”? Can you see the beauty of your most recent failure forming? Do you feel the energy shift when dawn turns into morning? Have you seen the tired child overworked from labour yawning? Did you hear the broken poet howling sadness out as her calling? Fundamentalist extremists theorising about their obsessions Confrontationalist activists eschewing material possessions An environmentalist prophesising scientifically based confessions A conversationalist espousing verbal directives and regressions Would you exchange your ideology for the sake of monetary gain? Could you pertain to philosophically abandon your perception of pain? Or would you abstain from phenomenologically documenting the acid rain? Or could you categorically state that you’d like to decide before you refrain? Precision elements of reflective detail in recollection Decisions and components of defective mobilisation in your direction Narcissus falling in love with himself, staring at his own reflection Self-confidence that is so pure and strong that it is beyond external correction. Humanitarian aid distributed fairly with efficiency and action Egalitarian ways ignited by early proficiency and dissatisfaction A Libretarian on display as surely as a well defined mathematical protraction A maternity ward without a doctor waiting for the next contraction Remember what the cost was when you held corruption to account ? Dismember all that’s been lost when you want to make it count , Engender memories of the Holocaust as you view Auschwitz from a mount Contender for the Nobel Peace Prize focusing on all that’s paramount By Elizabeth Moroz Copywrite 2023
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42
man says, this life, for what, a thousand dry holes drilled, wildcatting, a win-loss record, that didn’t approach, come close, to breakeven, not even an asterisk in the records kept man says, this body, its rate of desolations increasing, the goal line distance secretions, decreasing, this broken runner, tackled from behind by the past, as his future caught up with him man says, goals, deadlines, hamstring him, due dates, an invitation to a criminal activity, rub, nobody wants to take it down, his record, left behind, when they shut Rikers Island man says, always poor at maths, a loser of words, his parents, his children, all time despairing of him, called the AAA to come, tow him away, but, all the junkyards refused him entry man says, what separates ought and nought, a little letter, just an n, that screaming thought, a little letter, insufficient to bridge a poem too far, man digresses, the past is ever present, in every word writ and forgot.
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May 16, 2020
May 16, 2020 at 9:37 AM UTC
various digressions into personal exploration
There are few bottlebrush trees here, A couple grew in front of our house, The entrance to our house they guard. When it is season for them, They bloom very lavishly, Even striking is one's stem. It was pecked upon by a woodpecker, Thak-Thak-Thak, Thak-Thak-Thak, The stem's bark finally gave away slowly. By the end of October '06, The hollow was readied, The woodpecker moved in. It gave shelter to the two birds initially, The male & the female woodpeckers, They stayed there for a complete season. Saw their family grow, From just the parents, It even had chicks now. The chicks grew fast under parental care, I even listened to their infant chirping, Saw the parents flying to get forage not so rare. Then one day a snake slithered, Until that hollow, it climbed, The woodpeckers made a lot of noise. They both screeched repeatedly, But their cries were useless, They could not scare away the snake. The serpent then came out after few hours, Now the crawling was sluggishly lazy, Its mouth smeared with gooey young feathers. The family had been destroyed, An eerie silence shrouded the hollow, The woodpecker chicks were dead. Soon, an eagle had hunted the snake, Hovering in the sky it spotted it, Grabbed it when in the sunlight it basked. Now the woodpeckers were gone, Probably in search of a new tree, A new tree where a snake won't come. As for the tree's hollow, It made a new home, For a parrot species this time. And time knows that change will descend, Even the parrots will desert the hollow, They will leave in search of the better greens. Maybe a family of owls will come in the end, It will be a long-time home, the hollow, For owls are known to fill all the vacancies.
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May 6, 2017
May 6, 2017 at 4:21 AM UTC
The Owl's Hollow
There are few bottlebrush trees here, A couple grew in front of our house, The entrance to our house they guard. When it is season for them, They bloom very lavishly, Even striking is one's stem. It was pecked upon by a woodpecker, Thak-Thak-Thak, Thak-Thak-Thak, The stem's bark finally gave away slowly. By the end of October '06, The hollow was readied, The woodpecker moved in. It gave shelter to the two birds initially, The male & the female woodpeckers, They stayed there for a complete season. Saw their family grow, From just the parents, It even had chicks now. The chicks grew fast under parental care, I even listened to their infant chirping, Saw the parents flying to get forage not so rare. Then one day a snake slithered, Until that hollow, it climbed, The woodpeckers made a lot of noise. They both screeched repeatedly, But their cries were useless, They could not scare away the snake. The serpent then came out after few hours, Now the crawling was sluggishly lazy, Its mouth smeared with gooey young feathers. The family had been destroyed, An eerie silence shrouded the hollow, The woodpecker chicks were dead. Soon, an eagle had hunted the snake, Hovering in the sky it spotted it, Grabbed it when in the sunlight it basked. Now the woodpeckers were gone, Probably in search of a new tree, A new tree where a snake won't come. As for the tree's hollow, It made a new home, For a parrot species this time. And time knows that change will descend, Even the parrots will desert the hollow, They will leave in search of the better greens. Maybe a family of owls will come in the end, It will be a long-time home, the hollow, For owls are known to fill all the vacancies.
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48
I believe in redemption; ten high-strung ******* in the air raising flag of cold notices and I realize that redemption was invited so then leap us with our darlings to the bunker where ****** lay cold and new world heap stays buried beneath our mother's armpits that we left behind for she had cold heart and warm skins and we were still ungrateful, man Just like our father, she said with their flag raised of suspicion and hatred in their eyes, reflected but hatred itself is not enough and it came closer by second so we run to our shelter, stay low and lay cold with our darlings
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Sep 17, 2015
Sep 17, 2015 at 6:54 PM UTC
05:54 AM Rumble