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"abducted" poems
2002: today i kicked the door to history off it's hinges my jealous frame: still too proud to say a word it seems my folks forgot to pencil in growth marks cause they thought their boy would never grow out of small breath ******* dead, years now buried and i bare his name too many syllables for my father to go back fish & play football to stand in the yard and play catch 1994: my mom, the bombshell in retrospect broke her back in her sleep a thousand times since the stairwell in 87' she still sits for spills post nuclear about settling now from the couch she's a weather report spouting nonsense that makes my father grow grey, crack remotes & slam doors to dark rooms abandoning ship for "cheers" & "scienfeld" while my mother sometimes forgets and sets his place at the table and my appetite is abducted by family photos my mother says things like "go see your brother today" -- Johnny's long gone don't you remember? we buried him the day your smile died 2014: you are inches from me ********* a stray hair caught in the fabric of your coat the last remnants of a dog we laid to rest last week and here we are in the hospital again people don't shake like dogs finality is found in the eyes of humans passing archways into shallow rooms where plague and prayer are the only songs sung round the stagnant clocks it makes me wonder if the clipboards cry over being the last thing someone ever writes on take a number, have a seat stay a while i am back, 7 years old & there are different doors now they buried the ones you kicked in that night in '92 when my lungs were filled with holy water you never stopped smoking i never grew out of asthma
0
Mar 26, 2014
Mar 26, 2014 at 12:39 PM UTC
it's the little wars that **** us
2002: today i kicked the door to history off it's hinges my jealous frame: still too proud to say a word it seems my folks forgot to pencil in growth marks cause they thought their boy would never grow out of small breath ******* dead, years now buried and i bare his name too many syllables for my father to go back fish & play football to stand in the yard and play catch 1994: my mom, the bombshell in retrospect broke her back in her sleep a thousand times since the stairwell in 87' she still sits for spills post nuclear about settling now from the couch she's a weather report spouting nonsense that makes my father grow grey, crack remotes & slam doors to dark rooms abandoning ship for "cheers" & "scienfeld" while my mother sometimes forgets and sets his place at the table and my appetite is abducted by family photos my mother says things like "go see your brother today" -- Johnny's long gone don't you remember? we buried him the day your smile died 2014: you are inches from me ********* a stray hair caught in the fabric of your coat the last remnants of a dog we laid to rest last week and here we are in the hospital again people don't shake like dogs finality is found in the eyes of humans passing archways into shallow rooms where plague and prayer are the only songs sung round the stagnant clocks it makes me wonder if the clipboards cry over being the last thing someone ever writes on take a number, have a seat stay a while i am back, 7 years old & there are different doors now they buried the ones you kicked in that night in '92 when my lungs were filled with holy water you never stopped smoking i never grew out of asthma
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71
Wake Up Wretched World, I assert my Indigenous heritage I self identify With the ancestors of my continent Identity afraid to articulate Culture, unknowingly belonging to me Cycle of shame now shattered Product of love, hatred, lust, and desire europeans plundering my mother Latin America In chaos and violence, my skin's pigment Has been engineered through the mestizaje Of my Indigenous forefathers How could I not forget my lineage When the historical legacy of modernization Has been to massacre the consciousness Of where my people really come from Erasing indigenous pride Making Paisano and Indio Synonymous with poverty and alienation Insulting the humbleness State of hunger you've left us in Original lineage within me disturbed So you push me to ambiguity and embarrassment Not white, not indigenous? Pure indigenous brothers and sisters silenced Not an exploitable consumerist market, not in your campaigns Not benefactors of your philanthropic development tactics Bodies too costly to abuse, no reason to bring them Into the neoliberal multinational corporate circuit Constantly driving them off productive land Because they choose to assert their identity Live in collective communes, not owing you nothing Waiting for them to make barren lands productive So you can take those lands too Not capturing an obscure history, these are not colonial times This is the legacy of the european presence entering mother Latin America 21st century still defiling Indigenous cultures to civilize and modernize
0
Mar 14, 2013
Mar 14, 2013 at 10:26 PM UTC
Indigenous (Abducted Consciousness)
Wake Up Wretched World, I assert my Indigenous heritage I self identify With the ancestors of my continent Identity afraid to articulate Culture, unknowingly belonging to me Cycle of shame now shattered Product of love, hatred, lust, and desire europeans plundering my mother Latin America In chaos and violence, my skin's pigment Has been engineered through the mestizaje Of my Indigenous forefathers How could I not forget my lineage When the historical legacy of modernization Has been to massacre the consciousness Of where my people really come from Erasing indigenous pride Making Paisano and Indio Synonymous with poverty and alienation Insulting the humbleness State of hunger you've left us in Original lineage within me disturbed So you push me to ambiguity and embarrassment Not white, not indigenous? Pure indigenous brothers and sisters silenced Not an exploitable consumerist market, not in your campaigns Not benefactors of your philanthropic development tactics Bodies too costly to abuse, no reason to bring them Into the neoliberal multinational corporate circuit Constantly driving them off productive land Because they choose to assert their identity Live in collective communes, not owing you nothing Waiting for them to make barren lands productive So you can take those lands too Not capturing an obscure history, these are not colonial times This is the legacy of the european presence entering mother Latin America 21st century still defiling Indigenous cultures to civilize and modernize
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37
Week One. Possible reasons why she left you: 1. She was abducted by aliens 2. She turned into a mermaid 3. She joined a group of pirates Week Two. Possible reasons why she left you: 4. She won the lottery 5. She was a secret princess 6. She works for MI6 Week Three. Possible reasons why she left you: 7. She met someone else 8. She doesn’t love me 9. She never did Week Four. Possible reasons why she left you: 10. She didn't feel loved. 11. She had enough. 12. She's emotionally drained. Week Five. Possible reasons why she left you: 13. She forgot who she was in the relationship. 14. She realised you were a boy and not a man. 15. You didn't support her growth as a human being. Week Six. Possible reasons why she left you: 16. She never got attention she truly deserves. She's fed up of "what's up" and emoticons. 17. Everything is all about you. Nothing is ever about her. 18. She loves herself too.
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Dec 16, 2015
Dec 16, 2015 at 4:09 AM UTC
She Left
Oh! Rama you are the most virtuous You are the eldest son of king Dasaratha’s You always stood by your word You are the greatest man in the world Your wife Sita is the most pious woman Your step mother kaika asked your father for a boon She asked you to go to the forest She refused your father’s request You obliged your father’s promise He grieved to lose your loving kiss Along with your chaste wife In forest you spent fourteen years’ strenuous life Brother Lakshmana shared your strife He cut demon shurphanaka’s nose with a knife The demon Ravana came in disguise Sita fell a prey to his vice He abducted her to his kingdom Sita was deprived of her freedom You wept for Sita like a man Trials and tribulations are very common You made friends with Lord Hanuman He was undoubtedly a super man He flew to Ravana”s kingdom And relieved Sita”s boredom He assured her Rama would **** the demon Because He was supra human In the fierce fight You were too great for his sight Ravana fell down in the battle field Sita was freed from his yield You were crowned king Many songs did the people sing We celebrate your birth day with religious zeal All our troubles you will seal By JVL NARASIMHA RAO
0
Dec 25, 2010
Dec 25, 2010 at 7:12 PM UTC
THE RAMAYANA RETOLD IN VERSE
Many people believe that Satan is a myth, they think that he doesn't exist. Sadly, he is real and the evil things that he causes are too many to list. The world keeps getting worse and worse, people lie, cheat and commit crimes. The reason why things are getting worse is because Satan is working overtime. Satan and his demons are unleashing more evil because their remaining time is getting shorter as each day goes by. Satan will be destroyed and he wants to take as many with him as he can before he is defeated by God and condemned to die. Fifty years ago children could take walks by themselves and return safe and sound. If children do that now, they are either abducted or end up being buried in the ground. If you don't believe me, you'll find a wall of missing children at a Walmart that's close to where I live. People who are stealing, killing and doing other evil things had better stop it and ask The Lord to forgive. Satan and his demons work hard at corrupting people and they'll try to corrupt both me and you. When this happens, we must ask God to give us strength and support, that is what we must do.
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Aug 5, 2016
Aug 5, 2016 at 2:41 PM UTC
Satan Is Working Overtime
abuse trigger In my end is my beginning -T.S. Eliot- I distinctly remember the night I decided to get better. I mean once and for all better. On Monday 19th January 2004, at a few minutes past midnight, here, the real story began. I took a deep breath, trusted my instincts, and let myself go. I let myself taste the other side. I let myself fly freely around my environment. I looked in the mirror, removed the mask, and allowed myself to see my own reflection. And I spoke; “You will do this. And it will start now.” My mask I wore throughout the endless rapes and sodomizing, were what kept me alive, kept me breathing. Each day and week passed, each morning I would rise, fixate the mask, and go on. Until I no longer could go on in that way. The crash ended before it had even begun. Breathe through the pain, no pain no gain, pain is what allows you to know you are alive. This is how I survived the years of torment inflicted on myself. I re-enacted all the pain on myself in order to know I was alive. I took what I hated of him and made it a part of myself. But in 2004 that ended. I chose to walk a different path. I chose to recover. Engaging with this topic has given me hope. I know that the future holds something amazing for me. I know that this is what living is. I know this is what freedom tastes like. I love the taste of the rain on my face, the light that shines through the night, and the feeling of well being throughout my whole self. In **** and ****** abuse you are left hating your body. You blame yourself, and you hurt yourself as a way of reclaiming the body that another took. Your body becomes disconnected from you, it becomes "another", it becomes a "thing.” In Greek Mythology, Persephone is the goddess of spring. According to her story, she was abducted, ***** and taken to the underworld by Hades, the lord of the underworld. When her mother, Demeter, found out what had happened to Persephone, she convinced Zeus to force Hades to release her. Before Persephone could leave, Hades made her eat a pomegranate, which meant that she would have to return to the underworld for one-third of the year. According to the legend, the time Persephone spends in the underworld is the time in which there is winter on the earth. Because Persephone made it out of the underworld, she can be called the first survivor. As survivors we can take comfort from the knowledge that although winter is hard, there is always spring around the corner. © Sia Jane (2007)
0
Jan 7, 2015
Jan 7, 2015 at 6:20 PM UTC
Just For Today
abuse trigger In my end is my beginning -T.S. Eliot- I distinctly remember the night I decided to get better. I mean once and for all better. On Monday 19th January 2004, at a few minutes past midnight, here, the real story began. I took a deep breath, trusted my instincts, and let myself go. I let myself taste the other side. I let myself fly freely around my environment. I looked in the mirror, removed the mask, and allowed myself to see my own reflection. And I spoke; “You will do this. And it will start now.” My mask I wore throughout the endless rapes and sodomizing, were what kept me alive, kept me breathing. Each day and week passed, each morning I would rise, fixate the mask, and go on. Until I no longer could go on in that way. The crash ended before it had even begun. Breathe through the pain, no pain no gain, pain is what allows you to know you are alive. This is how I survived the years of torment inflicted on myself. I re-enacted all the pain on myself in order to know I was alive. I took what I hated of him and made it a part of myself. But in 2004 that ended. I chose to walk a different path. I chose to recover. Engaging with this topic has given me hope. I know that the future holds something amazing for me. I know that this is what living is. I know this is what freedom tastes like. I love the taste of the rain on my face, the light that shines through the night, and the feeling of well being throughout my whole self. In **** and ****** abuse you are left hating your body. You blame yourself, and you hurt yourself as a way of reclaiming the body that another took. Your body becomes disconnected from you, it becomes "another", it becomes a "thing.” In Greek Mythology, Persephone is the goddess of spring. According to her story, she was abducted, ***** and taken to the underworld by Hades, the lord of the underworld. When her mother, Demeter, found out what had happened to Persephone, she convinced Zeus to force Hades to release her. Before Persephone could leave, Hades made her eat a pomegranate, which meant that she would have to return to the underworld for one-third of the year. According to the legend, the time Persephone spends in the underworld is the time in which there is winter on the earth. Because Persephone made it out of the underworld, she can be called the first survivor. As survivors we can take comfort from the knowledge that although winter is hard, there is always spring around the corner. © Sia Jane (2007)
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11
.         Flying, flying         Away and dying Across the night air is the cackling of witches.         Flying, flying         Away and crying     Are children abducted for wickedest fun.         Flying, flying         Away and sighing Are night winds that murmur in ominous pitches.         Flying, flying         Away and nighing     Their lair, the witches have only begun. O.O
0
Aug 19, 2015
Aug 19, 2015 at 6:39 PM UTC
Flying Away
My mind is expanding, But these grades are demanding. Though my ways stand out My GPA is not outstanding. What good is knowledge, If you can’t prove it on paper? I WANT TO SEE THE WORLD!!! But getting good grades is safer. So I must be productive, My right to dream has been abducted, I once considered reflective struggles constructive, But marginal quotas interrupt it I’m feeling inspired, My drive is now fired! Oh but I can’t attend to that now.. Because I can’t study when I’m tired. So I put it off, Dreams are lost, Robot mode on, in a society of full of scholarly knock-offs. "Serendipity does not exist," "You’re choosing to fail if you’re choosing to live," "Why live creatively if you can puff, click or sip?" I’m in an abusive relationship with my To-Do list Don’t lose track, Don’t look back, Because time is money And honey, society will tell you how you spend it. If you just let it.
0
Nov 20, 2013
Nov 20, 2013 at 7:36 PM UTC
The Anti-Hustle
This world, that we live in, Is not at all less. It is full of lies And a lot of mess. The innocent being abducted, The honest being convicted, There’s no ray of hope, In this world, Of untruthful, slimy slope. It is so not possible, To climb back up, Because the world, Is constantly trying, To pull you back down, In this ditch, So that alone they do not drown. This is what You have to watch out for. Everybody is selfish; Nobody is yours, Except your family. Who is always there; Even in wars. People are bad, And will always be, You have to survive, With dear ones to your support, You have to thrive. Go on, who stops you? But watch out for these traitors: That will always be near you. Looking for a potential prey, Every single day. They will treat you nicely at first, On cloud nine, They will make you fly, But what comes later, Is something impalpable. Falling through a canopy, Into a trench that is Unfathomable. Come on! You have to get up: Be strong, You have to catch up! This not the end, But the beginning, Of your story. A story, That will one day be exemplary, For all, In this howsoever bad world. Success will follow you, If you follow struggle; This struggle will become obsession; Obsession, your passion. And passion is unstoppable. That very day, When you know your goal very evidently, And the journey is your pal, Nobody can stop you, From being on top of the world. And this time, Nobody’s going to push you Because on top, You will be All alone.
0
Dec 27, 2015
Dec 27, 2015 at 12:21 PM UTC
The World Today
The peace pipe that has two sides - zoom the monsoon clouds, summertime-bizarre. Choices, pieces of the peace puzzle: Biblical, them both. Pasts alive in binocular introspection. Smoking the hashtag#, now: A hundred colour abominations around. Comrade, policeman, look, our daughters go abducted. The last rain is dying and the heat soars again: Wand-love or rod-fear: It's a battle of the faithful in a heathen heathen world. #hash's so-sixties.
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May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 4:49 PM UTC
Heathen heathen world
You ask me why I’m so angry all the time I laugh because if I don’t I’ll cry, I laugh because if I don’t I’ll cry. And then you’ll call me emotional and hysterical As if we’re still in the era of old where simple female reactions Were pathologised and the bold locked up for being “mentally ill”. You ask me why I’m angry and I simply scoff And deny because if I start speaking about why The rage in me will boil over like lava in a volcano And then where will we be? [pause] I want to tell you, I want to tell you why. Why this rage, this utter, all consuming anger, this deep-rooted grief. Let me tell you how I feel like crying whenever I hear about Another **** case, another girl murdered for daring to refuse, Another woman of colour who endured terrifying pain, All because she was who she was. Another minority violated, another black trans woman killed, her ****** unsolved, Another child abducted and sold, like a commodity Another another another It never stops and it never ends From micro-aggressions to gross violence I feel it all in my heart Like a stab between the fourth and the fifth rib And it adds to my rage. The words burst forth from my lips, But I rein them in Because even though I want to protest Against your complete ignorance and your casual misogyny And my being revolts in response to your words, I stop myself because you are my family, my friend, my peer And if I say something You’ll just ask me why I’m so angry all the time. Sometimes there’s no winning Resistance is futile In a world so steeped in patriarchy That it’s unaware of the consequences Of perpetuating sexist narratives. But I still want to fight The oppressive systems that chain the girl child, The casual way we respond to certain slights Against the all encompassing freedom of women. And I’ll take on a thousand such questions If only I can change one life, If only I can spread the word and fight the good fight. And, I would have told you all this If only you had asked. If only you had the patience To listen as I blathered on About statistics and documented proof Of how 50% of the world’s population Is still under constant threat to their lives. I repeat, fifty percent of the world’s population Lives with a constant threat to their lives. I would have told you about how there are thousands of accounts Of harassment and abuse and violation of basic human rights, The right to say no, the right to thrive. I would have told you, I would have told you all If only you had asked. So don’t ask me why I’m angry Ask yourself why you’re not.
0
Apr 6, 2017
Apr 6, 2017 at 11:45 AM UTC
don't ask me why i'm angry
You ask me why I’m so angry all the time I laugh because if I don’t I’ll cry, I laugh because if I don’t I’ll cry. And then you’ll call me emotional and hysterical As if we’re still in the era of old where simple female reactions Were pathologised and the bold locked up for being “mentally ill”. You ask me why I’m angry and I simply scoff And deny because if I start speaking about why The rage in me will boil over like lava in a volcano And then where will we be? [pause] I want to tell you, I want to tell you why. Why this rage, this utter, all consuming anger, this deep-rooted grief. Let me tell you how I feel like crying whenever I hear about Another **** case, another girl murdered for daring to refuse, Another woman of colour who endured terrifying pain, All because she was who she was. Another minority violated, another black trans woman killed, her ****** unsolved, Another child abducted and sold, like a commodity Another another another It never stops and it never ends From micro-aggressions to gross violence I feel it all in my heart Like a stab between the fourth and the fifth rib And it adds to my rage. The words burst forth from my lips, But I rein them in Because even though I want to protest Against your complete ignorance and your casual misogyny And my being revolts in response to your words, I stop myself because you are my family, my friend, my peer And if I say something You’ll just ask me why I’m so angry all the time. Sometimes there’s no winning Resistance is futile In a world so steeped in patriarchy That it’s unaware of the consequences Of perpetuating sexist narratives. But I still want to fight The oppressive systems that chain the girl child, The casual way we respond to certain slights Against the all encompassing freedom of women. And I’ll take on a thousand such questions If only I can change one life, If only I can spread the word and fight the good fight. And, I would have told you all this If only you had asked. If only you had the patience To listen as I blathered on About statistics and documented proof Of how 50% of the world’s population Is still under constant threat to their lives. I repeat, fifty percent of the world’s population Lives with a constant threat to their lives. I would have told you about how there are thousands of accounts Of harassment and abuse and violation of basic human rights, The right to say no, the right to thrive. I would have told you, I would have told you all If only you had asked. So don’t ask me why I’m angry Ask yourself why you’re not.
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64
In my Dreams aliens invade. I hide with people I barely know. We seek solace in each other's humanity for fear of the unknown. In my Dreams I fly over rooftops, over unsuspecting heads who go about their day as usual. In my Dreams I am transported, abducted, and chased. But in my Dreams I am me. I am lost. I am afraid. When I wake static lingers like a long lost lullaby.
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Apr 20, 2022
Apr 20, 2022 at 5:53 PM UTC
DREAMS
1437 A Dew sufficed itself— And satisfied a Leaf And felt “how vast a destiny”— “How trivial is Life!” The Sun went out to work— The Day went out to play And not again that Dew be seen By Physiognomy Whether by Day Abducted Or emptied by the Sun Into the Sea in passing Eternally unknown Attested to this Day That awful Tragedy By Transport’s instability And Doom’s celerity.
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2.5k
A Dew sufficed itself—
I refuse to be Persephone I escape brooding moods And the reflections of souls dead to you To accept a pomegranate seed or two From the underworld was a mistake I will not pay for And I do not expect anyone to save me I cry that your world is so dark you believe the light inside me is deception the seasons will come around again and I will not return your soil is too damp and oppressive for any healthy sprout to grow and your richness and grandeur too gloomily cast Familiar with the voice of dismal and disdain, I will not be restrained I will not be abducted I will not be compliant I will not forget my life in the sun I will not be isolated and I will not be afraid of gathering flowers
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May 1, 2017
May 1, 2017 at 10:33 PM UTC
Goddess of Springtime
hi dudes you see i am a koomarri,. but who gives a **** just like tyler hammond the kid you see he was ******** oh yeah he ****** was and i walk the dinosaur like was not was jump up jump down turn your body around, please baby walk the dinosaur open the door get on the floor, everybody walk the dinosaur boom boom malacka acka boom, boom boom malacka acka boom walk the flaming dinosaur, walk him up and walk him down, walk him all around this town open the door get on the floor, walk the flaming dinosaur boom boom malacka acka boom walk the dinosaur boom boom malacka acka boom walk the flaming dinosaur you see to the world i look like a hooligan, walk the dinosaur simon said pick ya nose, walk the flaming dinosaur open the door and get on the floor walk the fucken dinosaur boom boom malacka acka boom, walk it up and walk it down party all over tony abbott’s liberal frown ya see buddhists eat foods from sea and earth, they will walk the dinosaur and as they walk they say, boom boom malacka acka boom walk the flaming dinosaur boom boom malacka acka boom the dinosaur needs to be walked and now john simmons went to the hospital to get an operation on his leg and the money beggars really really beg begging for mercy, begging for fun, kick conservos out on their *** boom, oh yeah boom boom malacka acka boom you see steven bradley has me again, let me out you dreadful man you see i am no longer a cool kid, i have lost my brothers credits because they want me protected you see, why bully me ya stupid old clown shake me up and shake me down graham kennedy is joining new families, oh yeah you see graham kennedy is walking around on earth maybe was william tyrell ya see because since he was abducted his old life graham kennedy said read this poem try and explain the uplifting version of death and bring my spirit back to the earth, cause people hate kids, really, buddy is downgrading yes william tyrell is formerly the aussie entertainer graham kennedy and he needs to be rescued ummmmm ummmmmm, find young william tyrell, PLEASE free the spirit of graham kennedy
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Jun 26, 2015
Jun 26, 2015 at 1:18 AM UTC
graham kennedy is currently william tyrell
hi dudes you see i am a koomarri,. but who gives a **** just like tyler hammond the kid you see he was ******** oh yeah he ****** was and i walk the dinosaur like was not was jump up jump down turn your body around, please baby walk the dinosaur open the door get on the floor, everybody walk the dinosaur boom boom malacka acka boom, boom boom malacka acka boom walk the flaming dinosaur, walk him up and walk him down, walk him all around this town open the door get on the floor, walk the flaming dinosaur boom boom malacka acka boom walk the dinosaur boom boom malacka acka boom walk the flaming dinosaur you see to the world i look like a hooligan, walk the dinosaur simon said pick ya nose, walk the flaming dinosaur open the door and get on the floor walk the fucken dinosaur boom boom malacka acka boom, walk it up and walk it down party all over tony abbott’s liberal frown ya see buddhists eat foods from sea and earth, they will walk the dinosaur and as they walk they say, boom boom malacka acka boom walk the flaming dinosaur boom boom malacka acka boom the dinosaur needs to be walked and now john simmons went to the hospital to get an operation on his leg and the money beggars really really beg begging for mercy, begging for fun, kick conservos out on their *** boom, oh yeah boom boom malacka acka boom you see steven bradley has me again, let me out you dreadful man you see i am no longer a cool kid, i have lost my brothers credits because they want me protected you see, why bully me ya stupid old clown shake me up and shake me down graham kennedy is joining new families, oh yeah you see graham kennedy is walking around on earth maybe was william tyrell ya see because since he was abducted his old life graham kennedy said read this poem try and explain the uplifting version of death and bring my spirit back to the earth, cause people hate kids, really, buddy is downgrading yes william tyrell is formerly the aussie entertainer graham kennedy and he needs to be rescued ummmmm ummmmmm, find young william tyrell, PLEASE free the spirit of graham kennedy
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39
I waited on the front porch, My knuckles demanded entry, The door swung open a Little too fast, or Not fast enough His eyes carried a Salacious appetite, His lips moist from the Slow curling of that Relentless tongue Before words could escape, His arms, those steel arms, With dancing tribals Caressing his biceps, They abducted my body As he stampeded through the house, Carried me to his satin sanctuary He threw me down into A pile of black and white clouds Who eagerly invited me, All in the next breath, He turned me around, pushed My face into silken sheets, He had his way, a pirate With newfound treasure He yanked my ear With Rigid teeth, My neck, his personal towel For the wicked words that bled Out the gate of his mouth, My scalp throbbed from Malicious fingers glued To my fragile, mahogany locks My hands bound in An unbreakable grip, So much that I couldn’t get Rid of the sweat that rained From his electrifying aura, It only brought me closer To seeing stars that I Desperately craved Moaning exhalations Seized my vocal cords, Tingling sensations Stung my raw body As chains of colors Slashed through me Sensing my release, The barbaric pattern That drove his body, Turned into a boat On a stilled lake He spun me around, Let my chin rest in his hand, Our chests rebelled for The abuse we forced Our bodies into I didn’t care, This man was a feral warrior, Who shared blends Of pain and pleasure, A brutal humanitarian, He didn’t make me see Stars, instead, I saw the whole galaxy
0
Jul 3, 2013
Jul 3, 2013 at 4:09 PM UTC
Humanitarian
I waited on the front porch, My knuckles demanded entry, The door swung open a Little too fast, or Not fast enough His eyes carried a Salacious appetite, His lips moist from the Slow curling of that Relentless tongue Before words could escape, His arms, those steel arms, With dancing tribals Caressing his biceps, They abducted my body As he stampeded through the house, Carried me to his satin sanctuary He threw me down into A pile of black and white clouds Who eagerly invited me, All in the next breath, He turned me around, pushed My face into silken sheets, He had his way, a pirate With newfound treasure He yanked my ear With Rigid teeth, My neck, his personal towel For the wicked words that bled Out the gate of his mouth, My scalp throbbed from Malicious fingers glued To my fragile, mahogany locks My hands bound in An unbreakable grip, So much that I couldn’t get Rid of the sweat that rained From his electrifying aura, It only brought me closer To seeing stars that I Desperately craved Moaning exhalations Seized my vocal cords, Tingling sensations Stung my raw body As chains of colors Slashed through me Sensing my release, The barbaric pattern That drove his body, Turned into a boat On a stilled lake He spun me around, Let my chin rest in his hand, Our chests rebelled for The abuse we forced Our bodies into I didn’t care, This man was a feral warrior, Who shared blends Of pain and pleasure, A brutal humanitarian, He didn’t make me see Stars, instead, I saw the whole galaxy
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65
Their relevance has been abducted excuses stealing dogma’s heart by the master of this domain knowing victory is now assured power given comes with a price the soul is laid on dark altars still the theories are put forth to explain the disconnect the world is flipped to discern why good is evil in the mind asking hearts to then follow the will-o-wisp of Lucifer tempting lights for the lost any harbor in the storm as the leaders avow the bait turning from their holy paths the rugged wood is consumed no longer standing on the hill when the pyre demands its fuel to sustain Satan’s plan the past reveals the same themes slavery and civil rights both supported with the chant ‘complicit sacred rules us all’ now a leader has come forth supporting hints of the righteousness while rejecting on the whole holiest Testaments no longer held they are nailed to the walls stored in shrines by sycophants asking for the crumbs of power to be tossed from gilded heights relevance has now vanished dogma twisted once again previously found after straying sacrificed to an Overlord small victories are assured with compromise firmly grasped kneel before a deity born of Satan instead of God. © 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180722.
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Jul 22, 2018
Jul 22, 2018 at 11:11 AM UTC
Complicit Sacred
Hi, guys. Anyone who would like to pick up my second poetry collection, "Gulag 101", can grab it for free until 18th. US customers: tinyurl.com/usd-g101 UK customers: tinyurl.com/ukd-g101 It's on a special promotion to tie in with the launch of my latest fiction offering, "The Other One", a novella about a young girl growing up in the long, dark shadow of her abducted identical twin. You can grab this one, too, if you like. US link: tinyurl.com/usd-oth UK link: tinyurl.com/ukd-oth Residents of the rest of the world, both of these titles will be available if you look for them on Amazon.
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Mar 15, 2016
Mar 15, 2016 at 2:26 PM UTC
Another Giveaway
A POLICE MAN CAN DO ANYTHING Why compromised are the police men? From all over the world, policemen are sellouts, Policemen arrested Jesus Christ and flogged him, Others tortured Galileo Galilai for intellectual cross purpose, Some of them vandalized Martin Luther King, and his wife, As they also put Fidel Castro on the tilted trial, The same are the ones that arrested Mahatma Gandhi In the same tandem of Colonel Afrifa organizing a coup To effect putsch against Kwameh Nkrumah, or Mandela to Robben gulag, They tortured Rubia and Matiba in Kenya down the abyss of mental breakdown, They kicked in the teeth Abdulla Abdalladiff at Kamiti prison Then they ran off for a decade to effect the ****** of Robert Ouko, Their evil tendency was never quenched until They abducted the County parliament speaker Of Maembe hamlet in the Nyake Kingdom of potato eaters And held him in the spine chilling captivity for days and days Only to release him when he sufficed to stay in dumb freedom.
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May 26, 2014
May 26, 2014 at 4:11 AM UTC
A POLICE MAN CAN DO ANYTHING
The aliens are coming to put weight on your feet You see I haven't got any social skills, and I haven't got a decent job But still people like preaching to me, and they will relax so annoyingly As if they are really sick of you, or something similar like that It's alright to be normal adults, and do normal Things But it's when you preach, and you seem to have even my folks As cooler people than me, they aren't cool, they don't want to do anything good The only reason they went on a cruise is because I thought of it I am cool, and i have fun everywhere, and I party and relax And take lots of great pictures, yes, that's so cool I seem to have an adult relationship with other people But to my family, I am just a little kid, but I ain't a kid And I feel the aliens are around trying to make my feet feel very tired I see the aliens are biting my feet, and taking the tips of my feet For a little spin, yes I am sitting in my living room Being chewed alive by flesh eating aliens, yes they have abducted me When I go anywhere with my parents, all the cool people talk to my parents As if they are cool, and you can say, they're not, I am cool I don't want people to bash me, or something They think I ain't normal, and I say that's true, I ain't normal I am abnormal, especially when normal is drinking beer And eating more junk food, than you can poke a stick at And also I think normal also to everyone is being stupid And I think that sounds cool as long as it is clean stupid And not going out robbing banks and stealing cars The types of things that aliens force you to be The aliens were getting caught in my body making Me say that I was 323 years old, and I was born on Christmas day And the aliens made me say that 23 times in one day To shop assistants and people down the pub as well as over the web I even said it to close friends, and they got sick of me, yeah Then I said the reason I said it, is if you add my ages together I will be 323 years old, which I didn't say straight away And it confused him a ****** lot, he kept saying Stop saying you're 323 years old Sent from my iPhone
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Sep 8, 2015
Sep 8, 2015 at 9:25 PM UTC
aliens are why you grow old
The aliens are coming to put weight on your feet You see I haven't got any social skills, and I haven't got a decent job But still people like preaching to me, and they will relax so annoyingly As if they are really sick of you, or something similar like that It's alright to be normal adults, and do normal Things But it's when you preach, and you seem to have even my folks As cooler people than me, they aren't cool, they don't want to do anything good The only reason they went on a cruise is because I thought of it I am cool, and i have fun everywhere, and I party and relax And take lots of great pictures, yes, that's so cool I seem to have an adult relationship with other people But to my family, I am just a little kid, but I ain't a kid And I feel the aliens are around trying to make my feet feel very tired I see the aliens are biting my feet, and taking the tips of my feet For a little spin, yes I am sitting in my living room Being chewed alive by flesh eating aliens, yes they have abducted me When I go anywhere with my parents, all the cool people talk to my parents As if they are cool, and you can say, they're not, I am cool I don't want people to bash me, or something They think I ain't normal, and I say that's true, I ain't normal I am abnormal, especially when normal is drinking beer And eating more junk food, than you can poke a stick at And also I think normal also to everyone is being stupid And I think that sounds cool as long as it is clean stupid And not going out robbing banks and stealing cars The types of things that aliens force you to be The aliens were getting caught in my body making Me say that I was 323 years old, and I was born on Christmas day And the aliens made me say that 23 times in one day To shop assistants and people down the pub as well as over the web I even said it to close friends, and they got sick of me, yeah Then I said the reason I said it, is if you add my ages together I will be 323 years old, which I didn't say straight away And it confused him a ****** lot, he kept saying Stop saying you're 323 years old Sent from my iPhone
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It needs Great effort Promising time Endless nights Hopeful dream To raise the loved ones And in no-time They got abducted The other end of the phone Demands for ransom That amount Whole life they may not have Counted Let the instant execute Point Blank It’s over In case if the cycle repeat Let the Point Blank be The lesson
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Aug 6, 2018
Aug 6, 2018 at 5:27 AM UTC
The Lesson
This plain Monday seemed to be fine Except I didn't recognize the bright beam Floating near me in the blue berry sky. I gazed at this peculiar sight As the soaring machinery opened its great mouth. Before I could fathom anything, I was lifted off my feet, and ****** in like a baby bird consuming an earthworm. I could no longer hear my own thoughts, Only the squeaking and mumbling of Stoic strangers. The pace of my pulse was light, but somehow rapid. They gently lay me down in front of a foreign device, A metallic blur to human eyes. All of these creatures were sexless, and small in stature, Despite being overbearingly powerful. One of them knew my name, "Brandon Antonio Smith, this is the moment, Your life will be changed for the better, forever it will." It kissed my forehead, Its aromatic saliva remained behind, and eased my afflicted mind. Then the figure took off all my clothing , Raised the instrument, and pierced it through my belly, While saying "You will lose the knowledge of tears, laughter, happiness, Rage, love, and all your memories. You are now one of us." Eerily, discomfort was not sensed at all. They dropped me off from Their space craft, back to Earth, and took off. This Monday was not plain, I will never be the same. What they saw as peace was my nightmare. Originally written 11/15/10 Revised 9/24/14 (c) 2014 Brandon Antonio Smith
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Oct 9, 2014
Oct 9, 2014 at 2:37 PM UTC
Abducted
The limitless array of the animistic Jewels—Each fighting their magnetic urge To come together as one, a forever lasting passion dripping off their kiss Twinkling within the soul of the observer Magically, like in an illusion, like one huge celestial trance No gem on Earth can compete with the star She is beauty beyond compare. The ancient array of the mountain ranges — Some holding hands Others neither eclipse, call out nor meet Arising from the ground, leaping high tearing into the sky A magnificent vision, an inspiring sight The earthly mountain cordillera — The anklets that adorn Mother Earth's precious feet. Wandering around aimlessly with life taking speed and power Kingdom Meteora devastating the passionate darkness around Go ahead, wish the wish of your life Lover, conqueror, dreamer — Abducted from your material world Here, you found your self As not all those who wander are lost. Flowing with grace, inborn pride and honor Sultry, sensual, worldly, wisely Beautiful transparent, suspicious translucent or dangerous blue-green opaque The Ocean sings to us the secret lullaby Gushing and roaring out loud like a woman forced into burning pyre Whispering her twilight prayers — seductively into your ear Leaving you boundless and bare, and to your imagination, she stretched it a far far way.
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Mar 27, 2014
Mar 27, 2014 at 10:13 AM UTC
A Speckle of Nature