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"accolades" poems
Working parts and mechanisms, charts and graphs and mannerisms, a table, pencil, square and mitre... eraser marks, sweat drops, -go lighter! A thought or two and ponderance... Decimal here and decimal there, -micron adjustment now we're square... Up all night until daylight dawn and finally I've fixed the Krong! A thought or two and ponderance... To the factory arrive before eight and finished, furnished, a model late... A handheld one and something larger, humanity saved by my charger! A thought or two and ponderance... 10 years long after planet saved, They'll be parades and accolades... Statues, tributes, my name in text-books, but no one, never, a second look! Never to worry on life again... ..I did it, I reset the world; begin. And did it all with Earth's mighty spin.
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Oct 3, 2016
Oct 3, 2016 at 3:31 PM UTC
K.R.O.N.G.
Pinto? No, not the wild-spirited, color-splotched mare with mane streaming like flames-thrown behind in the wind Taking desert inclines with scuffing hooves on rock catching her balance in mesquite curbing? The sage, dust All that nature throws in its pathway to knowledge toward treachery of crosswalks? “P-l-e-a-s-e  don't slow down! Stop signs--? ”No! Just keep going! Don't slow down now!” “They'll hear us coming 3 blocks away!” Pinto? Clogged carburetor--? No one much-mentioned rear-end inferno reputation?? A mere twinge in my signature Woman-without-a-clue “Hey, it runs, right? Gets where we're goin'?” Kids duck in back seat so as not to be seen In the cloud of smoke We make our approach Hiss Spitter, Belch, Pop and-- BANG! --Like a gunshot Kids take cover on street, in backseat duck down so not to be noticed... “Oh Ma!   MA!!! Not right here! Farther down!” ...so not to be seen ...by friends that matter... in this ride from hell! Backfiring Beast-- “Friends” skitter away from what will emerge from the smoke and fumes of high-risk-situation Kids spill out through jammed door to unexpected accolades onto equality's curb of laughter   Public school's wake of exhaust and relief I drive mercifully away Start of another school day
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Aug 7, 2018
Aug 7, 2018 at 1:11 PM UTC
Red Ford Pinto--Nice Body--$500
I'm made of all; The books I've ever read Poems I've ever written Faces who have smiled at me Hugs that have wrapped around me Caresses that have graced my inner thigh Countries & continents my feet have touched The lovers as we simultaneously reach ecstasy within Lonely nights shedding tear drops Nights gazing black skies moon & stars Children falling asleep to my heartbeat Animals whose soul was found through reflective eye stares Conversations spoken in French, Spanish, Italian, Xhosa, Afrikaans, Norwegian, German Years of ****** cognitive-, dialectical-, art-, drama-, music-, mindfulness-, trauma-, psychiatry-; therapies The drinks & drugs & mind altering substances dispersing my mind In all I'm made of; Love Lust Greed Fear Joy Freedom Longing Dreams Despair Sadness Anger Frustrations Happiness Anxieties Insecurities.... In all I'm made of; A soul; securely contained within a body of battled scars; over; pain & triumphs, losses & gains, rejections & acceptances, dishonours & accolades... With the hope; she too, can live life through. © Sia Jane
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Sep 22, 2014
Sep 22, 2014 at 8:52 PM UTC
Chapters of Self
self-congratulatory nonsense as the famous gather to applaud their seeming greatness you wonder where the real ones are what giant cave hides them as the deathly talentless bow to accolades as the fools are fooled again you wonder where the real ones are if there are real ones. this self-congratulatory nonsense has lasted decades and with some exceptions centuries. this is so dreary is so absolutely pitiless it churns the gut to powder shackles hope it makes little things like pulling up a shade or putting on your shoes or walking out on the street more difficult near damnable as the famous gather to applaud their seeming greatness as the fools are fooled again humanity you sick ************
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13.9k
This
Help me be humble and modest Lord. Bless the work that I do and let me do good things not so people notice me, rather I do them with a pure heart so as to give glory and honor to you and to help those who are in need. Help me remember the good feeling and the reward I get by helping those in need, especially those who cannot repay me. The gift of their smile, their gratitude and the knowledge that I have made a difference and potentially changed someone's life is a reward far greater, more permanent, and longer lasting than any amount of money or accolades could ever have. Allow me not to become pompous and inflated when I am successful or praised. Remind me when I am tempted to do so that the gift I have been given comes first from you. Help me also to be appropriately gracious and thankful when I am praised or rewarded and keep me cognizant of the fact that, while it is ok to be rewarded for your work, it should never be the main reason for our work.
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Jul 5, 2014
Jul 5, 2014 at 4:06 PM UTC
Humble Prayer
Proud little peacock Plumage up for display No need for repeated mocks No need for you to say I can clearly see For we may be quiet but we have eyes Strutting conspicuously Showing off your prize We already know you have it We all do On the sidelines we sit Seeing you through Tell me little bird What do you get When you say your words Were your objectives met? Everytime I hear them Just makes me gag I'd roll my eyes Just hearing you brag People'll give you When accolades are deserving But I suppose they're never enough 'Cause I still see you parading Well I know I may be unpredictable A tad bit capricious To be honest, you... You're simply being ostentatious ...and it's annoying the hell out of me...
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Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 8:12 AM UTC
Peacock
Oh architects of concrete How you have stolen my plains And dredged my soul The Falcon hovers in vain And the Hare has no hope While you swing you clubs For glory and embrace the Walls filled with accolades All at nature's dire expence
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Jul 24, 2018
Jul 24, 2018 at 1:30 PM UTC
The plague
It's a dance It really is Skip and prance Lifelong practice Loop of songs Never ending Of various genres Life is playing There's the spotlight World is awaiting Pressure of eyes Silently watching Take your place Assume your position Execute with finesse And flawless precision Spin your pirouettes Don't get dizzy Maintain your poise In this revelry Along comes a partner Present as a duo The game now altered From when you were solo Two bodies now Move in unison Reciprocate and reply Through steps made in heaven Flighty feet Intertwined bodies limbre Sweet little performance Elapsing into forever With grace of ballet Each other you'd catch Intimate display Think you've found your match There'll come such time Both will not be in sync Episodes of missteps Push you to the brink Alone again Or switch of partners Find solace in groups Still dancing for answers Dancing with others Much you can learn From hip hop to the waltz Together or in turn Try to adapt To different styles Soak up all you can May take a while I've danced all my life Can't say that I've mastered Fair share of jeers And accolades I've garnered Always clumsy Exceedingly awkward Tripping and falling Barely proceeding forward It's just this dance One with syncopated beats It's just this prance That my gait can't meet It's just this stance I often use as retreat I realised in a glance That I have...but two left feet
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Oct 2, 2014
Oct 2, 2014 at 5:36 AM UTC
Two Left Feet
Nothing ****** me off more Than when people call me Pretty I get it, okay? We live in a society that upholds beauty As the most important quality A girl can possess So girls who aren't pretty Feel like less And guys, knowing this, Call girls who were not gifted With a symmetrical face Proportional features Or a "rockin'" body Girls who rank on the lower end Of that wretched scale From one to ten Pretty Beautiful, attractive **** exquisite Gorgeous, lovely Stunning, hot And those girls Those amazing, ugly girls Infused with insecurities Self-loathing And sadness Give in to those words Give in to those guys Believing, if only for a brief, Tenderless moment That those pretty words Do apply But I am not interested In false accolades If you don't find me pretty Then don't say so I have plenty of fine qualities For you to compliment me on Praise my wit, my charm My intelligence, my confidence Things I cultivate Things I strive to be Qualities That complement me
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Feb 10, 2013
Feb 10, 2013 at 7:48 PM UTC
Compliment Me
By: Cedric McClester Thanks for never giving up on me You always kept your cool Even when it was plain to see I was acting like a fool You’re the one who believed in me When there was no one else And your encouragement was the key To making me believe in myself Thanks for all your time and energy And everything that you invest in me Thanks for your words of encouragement Especially when my head is bent How can I ever thank you enough For all you do and have done For being there when it gets rough I’m just so proud to be your son At times you even were my crutch That’s what everybody said They even thought you were too much From what I’ve heard and read Thanks for all your time and energy And everything that you invest in me Thanks for your words of encouragement Especially when my head is bent I never would have come this far Had it not been for you So you deserve these accolades And every word is true It’s little more than the gratitude That you’re deserving of These are heart-felt platitudes That are used to express my lov Thanks for all your time and energy And everything that you invest in me Thanks for your words of encouragement Especially when my head is bent You brought me closer to the goal That I had set for myself Right from the start you were sold Long before anyone else You’re the rock that gives me strength Because of you I persevere And I would go to any length To thank you I’m sincere I never would have come this far Had it not been for you So you deserve these accolades And every word is true It’s little more than the gratitude That you’re deserving of These are heart-felt platitudes That are used to express my love Thanks for never giving up on me You always kept your cool Even when it was plain to see I was acting like a fool You’re the one who believed in me When there was no one else And your encouragement was the key To making me believe in myself Cedric McClester,Copyright © 2015. All Rights Reserved.
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Oct 15, 2015
Oct 15, 2015 at 11:59 PM UTC
...FOR NEVER GIVING UP ON ME
By: Cedric McClester Thanks for never giving up on me You always kept your cool Even when it was plain to see I was acting like a fool You’re the one who believed in me When there was no one else And your encouragement was the key To making me believe in myself Thanks for all your time and energy And everything that you invest in me Thanks for your words of encouragement Especially when my head is bent How can I ever thank you enough For all you do and have done For being there when it gets rough I’m just so proud to be your son At times you even were my crutch That’s what everybody said They even thought you were too much From what I’ve heard and read Thanks for all your time and energy And everything that you invest in me Thanks for your words of encouragement Especially when my head is bent I never would have come this far Had it not been for you So you deserve these accolades And every word is true It’s little more than the gratitude That you’re deserving of These are heart-felt platitudes That are used to express my lov Thanks for all your time and energy And everything that you invest in me Thanks for your words of encouragement Especially when my head is bent You brought me closer to the goal That I had set for myself Right from the start you were sold Long before anyone else You’re the rock that gives me strength Because of you I persevere And I would go to any length To thank you I’m sincere I never would have come this far Had it not been for you So you deserve these accolades And every word is true It’s little more than the gratitude That you’re deserving of These are heart-felt platitudes That are used to express my love Thanks for never giving up on me You always kept your cool Even when it was plain to see I was acting like a fool You’re the one who believed in me When there was no one else And your encouragement was the key To making me believe in myself Cedric McClester,Copyright © 2015. All Rights Reserved.
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You’re pretty… he says for a dark-skinned girl I usually don’t talk to your kind. am I supposed to feel honor? you hopped of your pedestal, down to mine? I will not curve my lips into the half of the crescent moon that you’re expecting you do not deserve that. exclusion encumbers me and I am small in your eyes. Surely you can see that I am a dark girl, sweet berries ; color of night the same colors that allowed my ancestors to take flight. freeing them from ******* wounds that had them tied, without my hue, we would’ve died. I am a stone immortal, no work of erosion can seep through my cracks. the trials of my ancestors drawn on their backs. so our heads, we never hang down , we are to be found. scars to be hidden it is the gas in a run-away car, that last sip an alcoholic has as their arm and wrist lay dangling at the bar this is the prestige of my hue if I’m just pretty? then what could beauty possibly mean to you. a rare blend of history, struggle and strength. My head will not hang, not once more by noose or in self distress, I am history. No more do I long to sit at a table with you, in the wake of waiting for your admiration I have created my own table, in appreciation of your hesitation. To you my worth will always be in comparison to what’s missing that being pretty for a dark-skin girl, is a blessing. Worth far more than bedazzled insults , convinced I was worth less they could see it in my eyes, the way I dressed. The hue that I am is far greater than they told me accepting back handed accolades, that’s the old me. This house that holds my soul is only almost pretty… they say if I weren’t so dark I might be worth loving, caring wanting or staying. My color, a rustic espresso, no cream. you say I am pretty for a dark- skinned girl … no I’m pretty and that’s it! signed a FED UP dark skinned chick
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Jul 29, 2018
Jul 29, 2018 at 1:56 AM UTC
dark-skinned chick
You’re pretty… he says for a dark-skinned girl I usually don’t talk to your kind. am I supposed to feel honor? you hopped of your pedestal, down to mine? I will not curve my lips into the half of the crescent moon that you’re expecting you do not deserve that. exclusion encumbers me and I am small in your eyes. Surely you can see that I am a dark girl, sweet berries ; color of night the same colors that allowed my ancestors to take flight. freeing them from ******* wounds that had them tied, without my hue, we would’ve died. I am a stone immortal, no work of erosion can seep through my cracks. the trials of my ancestors drawn on their backs. so our heads, we never hang down , we are to be found. scars to be hidden it is the gas in a run-away car, that last sip an alcoholic has as their arm and wrist lay dangling at the bar this is the prestige of my hue if I’m just pretty? then what could beauty possibly mean to you. a rare blend of history, struggle and strength. My head will not hang, not once more by noose or in self distress, I am history. No more do I long to sit at a table with you, in the wake of waiting for your admiration I have created my own table, in appreciation of your hesitation. To you my worth will always be in comparison to what’s missing that being pretty for a dark-skin girl, is a blessing. Worth far more than bedazzled insults , convinced I was worth less they could see it in my eyes, the way I dressed. The hue that I am is far greater than they told me accepting back handed accolades, that’s the old me. This house that holds my soul is only almost pretty… they say if I weren’t so dark I might be worth loving, caring wanting or staying. My color, a rustic espresso, no cream. you say I am pretty for a dark- skinned girl … no I’m pretty and that’s it! signed a FED UP dark skinned chick
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Dirt on my name never My loyalty is forever Dirt on my name never My loyalty is forever Never talkin **** Never takin it Now I take a hit And pass the **** Never sink to a putdown Never will I be a letdown If I go down I always know I'll never be out I'm not in it to get paid ain't about all that clout False laurels and accolades, not something to flout People always frontin don't even know what they about These fake people always say you ain't a fan of that "Oh I bet you don't even know this, know that" "Bet you don't really feel the way you feel" It falls flat Don't need to put down, to know I feel so let's run it back "Oh **** man, you a fan of that" "Did you know this, know that" "I feel you and I feel that" No need to doubt some idle chit chat Dirt on my name never My loyalty is forever Dirt on my name never My loyalty is forever Heard from a friend lost in the wild hadn't seen em in a while Asked for my help and knew that I'd be there with a smile Didn't matter to me that I had to walk there over four miles Never turn the back on someone who I know trusts my smile Always there to help and if you can't hit me back Then don't worry just do what you can and stay on track Never put myself in a position where I can't come back And if I ever did I know I have Friends so I can fall back That trusts been broken but I won't give in Won't **** the trust I hold because a few gave in Few scars on this back where they put the blade in Forgiven but never will I let it be forgotten Never forgetting that I can't trust them And it makes me sad because I love them But if all they have is that hate then **** them Still unhappy knowing they can't love themselves Dirt on my name never My loyalty is forever Dirt on my name never My loyalty is forever My loyalty is forever This loyalty is forever This love is forever
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Mar 17, 2019
Mar 17, 2019 at 8:25 PM UTC
My Name
Dirt on my name never My loyalty is forever Dirt on my name never My loyalty is forever Never talkin **** Never takin it Now I take a hit And pass the **** Never sink to a putdown Never will I be a letdown If I go down I always know I'll never be out I'm not in it to get paid ain't about all that clout False laurels and accolades, not something to flout People always frontin don't even know what they about These fake people always say you ain't a fan of that "Oh I bet you don't even know this, know that" "Bet you don't really feel the way you feel" It falls flat Don't need to put down, to know I feel so let's run it back "Oh **** man, you a fan of that" "Did you know this, know that" "I feel you and I feel that" No need to doubt some idle chit chat Dirt on my name never My loyalty is forever Dirt on my name never My loyalty is forever Heard from a friend lost in the wild hadn't seen em in a while Asked for my help and knew that I'd be there with a smile Didn't matter to me that I had to walk there over four miles Never turn the back on someone who I know trusts my smile Always there to help and if you can't hit me back Then don't worry just do what you can and stay on track Never put myself in a position where I can't come back And if I ever did I know I have Friends so I can fall back That trusts been broken but I won't give in Won't **** the trust I hold because a few gave in Few scars on this back where they put the blade in Forgiven but never will I let it be forgotten Never forgetting that I can't trust them And it makes me sad because I love them But if all they have is that hate then **** them Still unhappy knowing they can't love themselves Dirt on my name never My loyalty is forever Dirt on my name never My loyalty is forever My loyalty is forever This loyalty is forever This love is forever
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<> There is power over what's in front, what's behind, cannot be vouched for. any one, anything that accost me, are all taken at face value....just as they are, disregarding love, or dislike, or, what dwells deep within. when not shrouded, i am most useful some say i'm cruel others think, i'm kindest but, i am just being honest. with the least of light, i try my best, i earn praises...they come back, they need me sometimes i am bathed with hatred i end up in the attic...or given away, just because the truth is unacceptable. the area across is most times regular, a man on his table...what hungs on his wall. occasionally, it becomes spectacular, countenances, joyful, or sorrowful come to and fro...all sorts of accolades a mix of emotions...each day, an array of lively colors and moods......a parade of varied appearances feed my view it's not what i want...it's what i am given any time of any day...any season. whatever the reason someone or something stands  to face me. when night is late, and in complete silence that man by the table....ever writes on paper and gets them all wet...with his falling tears, he writes of volcanoes spewing fire, of rain pouring, speaks to himself, then to me, of betrayal, promises lost, of broken vows, and shattered expectations. i am speechless, yet filled with his pain ....he is restive til the wee hours of the morning....then i see light in this visage, his face...giving an end to the dark giving way to another day's noise, ......a facade..... Sally Copyright Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan October 11, 2018
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Oct 11, 2018
Oct 11, 2018 at 4:36 PM UTC
Reflections
<> There is power over what's in front, what's behind, cannot be vouched for. any one, anything that accost me, are all taken at face value....just as they are, disregarding love, or dislike, or, what dwells deep within. when not shrouded, i am most useful some say i'm cruel others think, i'm kindest but, i am just being honest. with the least of light, i try my best, i earn praises...they come back, they need me sometimes i am bathed with hatred i end up in the attic...or given away, just because the truth is unacceptable. the area across is most times regular, a man on his table...what hungs on his wall. occasionally, it becomes spectacular, countenances, joyful, or sorrowful come to and fro...all sorts of accolades a mix of emotions...each day, an array of lively colors and moods......a parade of varied appearances feed my view it's not what i want...it's what i am given any time of any day...any season. whatever the reason someone or something stands  to face me. when night is late, and in complete silence that man by the table....ever writes on paper and gets them all wet...with his falling tears, he writes of volcanoes spewing fire, of rain pouring, speaks to himself, then to me, of betrayal, promises lost, of broken vows, and shattered expectations. i am speechless, yet filled with his pain ....he is restive til the wee hours of the morning....then i see light in this visage, his face...giving an end to the dark giving way to another day's noise, ......a facade..... Sally Copyright Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan October 11, 2018
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Zinging the zen-zone I was in A zany request zig-zagged my way. Princess Zinnia from the Zuider-Zee Required a zippy line or two To paint the zeitgeist of our times. With the strength of a Zamboni- With the power of a Zeus- And an uncommon zeal I set out To zap the doubt that slowed me. With the flair of a Florenz Ziegfeld And his zoftig choir of beauties, I morphed into a zealot Gamboling in the zephyrs That wafted in from Zurich and Zaire, Not to mention Zanzibar. I felt like a Zacharias When my zealous work went bust. The writing turned into a zonk- The accolades were zilch. I felt like I’d been zippered up Like a zebra in a zoo. I lost my zest for going on And slopped around in old Zoris, Listening to zydeco’s beat And feeling like a zit. But then the Zodiac- My zinging-singing sign Came to my rescue And I was marching off to Zion. I was one wowie-zowie-zucchini As I zipped across the pages And zoomed from one idea To an even zippier one. So here, Sunprincess, is your verse I’ve used up every letter zee And gone from very bad to worse But of this challenge, I am free.                          ljm
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Mar 5, 2017
Mar 5, 2017 at 12:58 AM UTC
A 'Z' POEM FOR SUN PRINCESS
And I suppose that it is funny, in a macabre sort of way how we all forget the tale of Prometheus. He who thought to bring gods level with men, with a simple gift. Yet his gift was one with no equal. He gave mankind fire, that in turn gave us life, and with life comes love, compassion, humanity. But what did he recieve in return? Thanks to his act of love for his adopted progeny, Prometheus was chained to a rock, destined to die once every day. His instestines, set to be disgested by an eagle once a day. His pain unrivaled, for his original sin shed light on our existence. And for this, we write no songs, we hold dear no poems, we hallow no ground. His flames gave birth to us, and here we are, choking on our own arrogance and hate. So I suppose, that in a sense Prometheus was the first nice guy, who finished last. Because being the Prometheus, means there shall be no songs sung of you, no poems written for you, and you will be eclipsed by others. Your deeds will go unloved, your accolades will go unnoticed. The world is a mean place, and however cruel it is, sometimes being and doing right gets you nowhere.
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Apr 22, 2013
Apr 22, 2013 at 10:17 PM UTC
Prometheus
She walks at night likes passion's grace Through nebulous fields of dream landscapes Wild Morpheus her footsteps guides She’s lust’s impassioned wile incarnate Her will like swirling ocean currents Endows the night with wanton purpose Sent from heaven's pearly gates To make men ponder mortal fortune Tempting spirits will to sate Demanding accolades of prowess To satisfy her primal needs Traverse her treacherous terrain Her visage of immortal love Like honey dripping from the comb Inspires reckless heart's abandon Dawn comes like coitus interruptus   Narcotic wisps of contention fade A thrall with no earthly recourse
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Apr 25, 2018
Apr 25, 2018 at 3:37 PM UTC
Succubus (re-post)
You make my heart fly like it's still whole, like the bones in my wings aren't brittle and broken and these palpatations actually follow some sort of a beat. Like maybe my feathers are still beautiful, even though I've made a habit out of flying too close to the sun. Suddenly, it's heat just warms my skin, and now I'm glowing. Instead of bursting into flames. You burn me from the inside out, but it's a comfortable energy. You play my strings so delicately, I feed off the vibrations. You make me feel like a song, that missed a beat, but found it just in time for the crescendo. And now I'm playing on like nothing bad has ever happened in my life. Just like a Dali painting -- Beautiful and ugly and brilliant and no one's sure exactly what it means... But you're the artist, and in your eyes, every stroke makes sense and I'm perfection.
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Feb 7, 2011
Feb 7, 2011 at 11:54 AM UTC
Sentimental Similes and Accolades of Affection
*Miss kindle is one of a kind With a funny way to unwind And one hell of a heavenly sense of humor To add to her emotional ‘accolades’ that sends a tremor Down my emotional spine Causing a fuzzy indescribable state Of emotional affairs, she a soul-stirring land mine And that quality of hers is innate. When am home and am sited on the couch She makes herself feel comfy On my lap while I take coffee Mine hands making the much needed ‘approach’ She’s one fluffy bundle of joy Adorably endowed with an eccentric sense of warmth She my lifebuoy Who keeps my spirits afloat when am doing my math.*
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Feb 12, 2014
Feb 12, 2014 at 9:40 AM UTC
Cute Aggression.
She walks at night likes passion's grace Through nebulous fields of dream landscapes Wild Morpheus her footsteps guides She’s lust’s impassioned wile incarnate Her will like swirling ocean currents Endows the night with wanton purpose Sent from heaven's pearly gates To make men ponder mortal fortune Tempting spirits will to sate Demanding accolades of prowess To satisfy her primal needs Traverse her treacherous terrain Her visage of immortal love Like honey dripping from the comb Inspires reckless heart's abandon Dawn comes like coitus interruptus   Narcotic wisps of contention fade A thrall with no earthly recourse
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Jan 13, 2013
Jan 13, 2013 at 3:18 AM UTC
Succubus
Fraud identities— Hack poets praising themselves,   .  .  .  Wait for accolades.
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Sep 7, 2014
Sep 7, 2014 at 1:51 AM UTC
Haiku ( HP trolls )
There is a Softness in the Shadows, On a breezy, Sun~filled Day. Splashing Contrast divides the Colors, trading within the shade, An interlacing patchwork, Arrangement by Rotation, Earth's Grandly Spun Bouquet. Movement amongst the shifting Patterns, playfulness in~All direction, Like children chasing randomness, Laughing in the garden that echoes through with effortless, nonchalant Expression. Eastwardly to Westwardly, Tracing loftily between Tree leaves, Mountains broad projectories, deepening the Shadows Shade, Yawned in stretching reach, Duality of Accolades, like Coastlines of a Beach. Lost in Lover's parting Kiss, In Amorphous Amore, Animates explicitly, A shy Shadow's story. Into the deep embrace of Night, A lingering at Sunset's Crest, Hallowed out in Shadow's shade, Sewing~dreamy patchwork Seams of Fabric feathered Sleep.
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May 22, 2014
May 22, 2014 at 7:56 PM UTC
PatchWork Shadows ~ Complete
Glad to see you,  the ORANGE hatted man said to the YELLOW shirted Person seated in the FULL Reclining Chair,  WHICH *By the *way,  was ONLY in the Half Back Position.   Being in the Half-Back Position allowed the YELLOW  shirted Person to respond in Just a Slightly UPLIFTED EYE ANGLE !!    And,  the ORANGE Hatted man, Peering Down,  with Head *****  Gave EACH of them an EQUAL Opposition Eye Angle of 22 Degrees EXACT ! !    Now,  to Verify the fact of Equal Opposition, the PROTRACTOR MAN arrived promptly on the scene to Evaluate the Situation..    He (protractor-man) Had , for the Very FIRST-TIME,  been especially Called for this HISTORIC Moment .   YES,,YES,,  For the very "FIRST-TIME"  Equal Opposition between an ORANGE hatted man and a YELLOW  shirted person,  USING the Measurement of "ALL-MEANING",  *THAT IS::   "The Protractor of Life"...  This Historic moment would forever be Relished by Another Member of THE SOCIETY ,  BUT it was up to the Assigned Protractor Man to Assure all Interested Parties,  That the ANGLE of Exactness was * C O R R E C T ! !    OR....it wouldn't COUNT !   OH DEAR GOD,,"THOUGHT"  the assigned Protractor man,  Let my Measurements be CORRECT ! !   The ORANGE  Hatted man continued to Patiently Peer at the YELLOW shirted person seated in the :HALF-BACK  * Position in the Full Reclining Chair..  A Trumpet Blast form a BRONZE  Bassoon,, announced the arrival of  a  SPECIAL LADY ;Fully Gowned in STARTLING PINK  AND Glimmering WHITE PEARLS , adorning Her Neck and SUN-KISSED" DIAMONDS flashed from her Fingers.    In her Right hand  she firmly grasped an envelope.  She Careful in her opening  ,as if  it were a SEVEN-SEALED SCROLL **  Pulled out the  PURPLE with GOLD INLAY INSCRIPTION  ,"CERTIFICATE  OF APPROVAL "  FOR THE   Magnificent  level of ACHIEVEMENT  by the  ORANGE hatted  and YELLOW shirted man ,VERIFIED   BY AN  "UN-COLORED " PROTRACTOR-MAN"   "HEAVENLY" PRAISES AND ACCOLADES  FILLED THE AIR**          AND A "BOOMING-THUNDERING VOICED"  "NOT-EVERYTHING WILL BE IN......."B L A C K & W H I T E " ! !
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Dec 13, 2010
Dec 13, 2010 at 3:26 AM UTC
*" IN FULL COLOR * " (#42)
Glad to see you,  the ORANGE hatted man said to the YELLOW shirted Person seated in the FULL Reclining Chair,  WHICH *By the *way,  was ONLY in the Half Back Position.   Being in the Half-Back Position allowed the YELLOW  shirted Person to respond in Just a Slightly UPLIFTED EYE ANGLE !!    And,  the ORANGE Hatted man, Peering Down,  with Head *****  Gave EACH of them an EQUAL Opposition Eye Angle of 22 Degrees EXACT ! !    Now,  to Verify the fact of Equal Opposition, the PROTRACTOR MAN arrived promptly on the scene to Evaluate the Situation..    He (protractor-man) Had , for the Very FIRST-TIME,  been especially Called for this HISTORIC Moment .   YES,,YES,,  For the very "FIRST-TIME"  Equal Opposition between an ORANGE hatted man and a YELLOW  shirted person,  USING the Measurement of "ALL-MEANING",  *THAT IS::   "The Protractor of Life"...  This Historic moment would forever be Relished by Another Member of THE SOCIETY ,  BUT it was up to the Assigned Protractor Man to Assure all Interested Parties,  That the ANGLE of Exactness was * C O R R E C T ! !    OR....it wouldn't COUNT !   OH DEAR GOD,,"THOUGHT"  the assigned Protractor man,  Let my Measurements be CORRECT ! !   The ORANGE  Hatted man continued to Patiently Peer at the YELLOW shirted person seated in the :HALF-BACK  * Position in the Full Reclining Chair..  A Trumpet Blast form a BRONZE  Bassoon,, announced the arrival of  a  SPECIAL LADY ;Fully Gowned in STARTLING PINK  AND Glimmering WHITE PEARLS , adorning Her Neck and SUN-KISSED" DIAMONDS flashed from her Fingers.    In her Right hand  she firmly grasped an envelope.  She Careful in her opening  ,as if  it were a SEVEN-SEALED SCROLL **  Pulled out the  PURPLE with GOLD INLAY INSCRIPTION  ,"CERTIFICATE  OF APPROVAL "  FOR THE   Magnificent  level of ACHIEVEMENT  by the  ORANGE hatted  and YELLOW shirted man ,VERIFIED   BY AN  "UN-COLORED " PROTRACTOR-MAN"   "HEAVENLY" PRAISES AND ACCOLADES  FILLED THE AIR**          AND A "BOOMING-THUNDERING VOICED"  "NOT-EVERYTHING WILL BE IN......."B L A C K & W H I T E " ! !
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1
I pull up to the stop Sign and side-blow a little smoke Out of the window. Wait for the last burn Of the cigarette Then turn to green. One glance in the mirror And there’s a young woman In a Tesla with long brown Curly hair and bright red lips. Singing like A Walmart movie star. **** me now sighs. We pretend to not play mirror lick. 2 minutes trinkets. Though I sit up a little straighter Suddenly self wrongsciouss And then notice That my hair is sticking Up just like a who from whoreville Ah **** it. And she lets a smile out on bail Though I think it’s probably At the old man waiting to cross With way too many Christmas bags of shopping. And we drive on this endless Highway of hooks and tumours, one night stands And one life stands And pretty moments and heartbreaks and rebounds. And winning lottery tickets. And Cuban cigars. And our hearts call room service In dive motels. And then we find someone to laugh with. and my car is **** And my hair is going silver And I hit 40 like an uppercut. And all of us patch up the cracks And take the pins out of other peoples voodoo dolls And dance with what we have. And do our best to punch above And throw a trick still. Like everything was beautiful once And now even if we fade just into accolades. We wear a A lucky shirt A new pair of shoes hung up on the telephone wires A revenge dress to help undress The bitterness A little blue that changes colours Sometimes As we drive away No more a stranger Than we ever were before.
0
Nov 18, 2023
Nov 18, 2023 at 8:01 AM UTC
Mirror licks
I pull up to the stop Sign and side-blow a little smoke Out of the window. Wait for the last burn Of the cigarette Then turn to green. One glance in the mirror And there’s a young woman In a Tesla with long brown Curly hair and bright red lips. Singing like A Walmart movie star. **** me now sighs. We pretend to not play mirror lick. 2 minutes trinkets. Though I sit up a little straighter Suddenly self wrongsciouss And then notice That my hair is sticking Up just like a who from whoreville Ah **** it. And she lets a smile out on bail Though I think it’s probably At the old man waiting to cross With way too many Christmas bags of shopping. And we drive on this endless Highway of hooks and tumours, one night stands And one life stands And pretty moments and heartbreaks and rebounds. And winning lottery tickets. And Cuban cigars. And our hearts call room service In dive motels. And then we find someone to laugh with. and my car is **** And my hair is going silver And I hit 40 like an uppercut. And all of us patch up the cracks And take the pins out of other peoples voodoo dolls And dance with what we have. And do our best to punch above And throw a trick still. Like everything was beautiful once And now even if we fade just into accolades. We wear a A lucky shirt A new pair of shoes hung up on the telephone wires A revenge dress to help undress The bitterness A little blue that changes colours Sometimes As we drive away No more a stranger Than we ever were before.
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53
Plagiarism is the seventh deadly sin of writing Not only does it hurt the owner, but it also hurts you in time Why do you need another's words to be noticed and set apart? Those little red hearts aren't worth **** if it's not your art Don't you feel incomplete? Isn't it bitter without the sweet? Can you not use your own voice? Do you not feel guilt or remorse? Don't you have things to say? Or is likes all you seek in this day? If that's true, then I've got news This won't make you happy Happy comes from within (or with some therapy) But you will not find accolades in claiming words you didn't say! If writing is a passion you wish to pursue, then, by all means, continue With some practice, you might just be as good as you lie to make us believe
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Dec 9, 2015
Dec 9, 2015 at 10:01 AM UTC
Don't be an *******
this long red tunic hides her battle scars well. centuries of fighting incarnations of cunning lucifer her eyes sea blue, her lips blood red, the crescent moon on her forehead witness to her numerous accolades. in the continuing saga of good vs evil, her next battle begins..... this warrior goddess of exquisite beauty pauses to smile, just for you and me. with this gifted diamond earring now worn as her cosmic amulet, her ultimate victory is near certain! © 2021
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Oct 9, 2021
Oct 9, 2021 at 8:45 AM UTC
kali