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"accord" poems
Unlucky the hero born In this province of the stuck record Where the most watchful cooks go jobless And the mayor's rôtisserie turns Round of its own accord. There's no career in the venture Of riding against the lizard, Himself withered these latter-days To leaf-size from lack of action: History's beaten the hazard. The last crone got burnt up More than eight decades back With the love-hot herb, the talking cat, But the children are better for it, The cow milks cream an inch thick.
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35.4k
The Times Are Tidy
Guns and more guns need to be put down Bullets should be replaced with education being the sound It’s time to become a success Yet it’s up to our young people to put that to the test Their testimony surrounding confess Everyone has capabilities to learn However, one must adapt to theories forming concepts Imagine having a college degree for all to see Having confident being your own decree The movement of action in making education what it should be A mind is a terrible thing to waste But the key is to make education your base Former President Barack Obama had the right idea, “You Can” But the new continued motto, “You shall Until” A young man at a United ***** College Fund Raiser said this vital point, “Blacker the college Sweeter the education” Education being the unity, but bring back to the community Determination in step out and explore Seeing one’s horizon but beyond the shore A college education is an opportunity being a chance Knowing the theories is how one will advance Higher Education means being one step ahead But the opposition wants minds to be misled Prove to yourself what education can do for you It’s a journey being a must to go through Achievers such as Dr. Martin Luther King, Medgar Evers, Dr. Maya Angelou and scores of others They instilled the passion in how to achieve, and determined education was what they were going to receive They were ready no matter what Fasten your educational seat belt as you will be taking off into Higher Learning Institutions in education beyond measure Education is, but hold tight to the learning saddle It might seem like a battle But the end rewards is succeed Slavery that was while be came destined for education now One word leads to a complete sentence One’s thoughts illustrates the understanding Adaptability of the concepts gained Long lasting knowledge is what will remain UNCF philosophy, “A mind is a terrible thing to waste” But the mind must be ready to spiral and absorb But education and knowledge work all accord.
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Mar 26, 2017
Mar 26, 2017 at 2:30 PM UTC
EDUCATION PERIOD
Guns and more guns need to be put down Bullets should be replaced with education being the sound It’s time to become a success Yet it’s up to our young people to put that to the test Their testimony surrounding confess Everyone has capabilities to learn However, one must adapt to theories forming concepts Imagine having a college degree for all to see Having confident being your own decree The movement of action in making education what it should be A mind is a terrible thing to waste But the key is to make education your base Former President Barack Obama had the right idea, “You Can” But the new continued motto, “You shall Until” A young man at a United ***** College Fund Raiser said this vital point, “Blacker the college Sweeter the education” Education being the unity, but bring back to the community Determination in step out and explore Seeing one’s horizon but beyond the shore A college education is an opportunity being a chance Knowing the theories is how one will advance Higher Education means being one step ahead But the opposition wants minds to be misled Prove to yourself what education can do for you It’s a journey being a must to go through Achievers such as Dr. Martin Luther King, Medgar Evers, Dr. Maya Angelou and scores of others They instilled the passion in how to achieve, and determined education was what they were going to receive They were ready no matter what Fasten your educational seat belt as you will be taking off into Higher Learning Institutions in education beyond measure Education is, but hold tight to the learning saddle It might seem like a battle But the end rewards is succeed Slavery that was while be came destined for education now One word leads to a complete sentence One’s thoughts illustrates the understanding Adaptability of the concepts gained Long lasting knowledge is what will remain UNCF philosophy, “A mind is a terrible thing to waste” But the mind must be ready to spiral and absorb But education and knowledge work all accord.
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39
"And singing still dost soar, and soaring ever singest." The earth was green, the sky was blue: I saw and heard one sunny morn A skylark hang between the two, A singing speck above the corn; A stage below, in gay accord, White butterflies danced on the wing, And still the singing skylark soared And silent sank, and soared to sing. The cornfield stretched a tender green To right and left beside my walks; I knew he had a nest unseen Somewhere among the million stalks: And as I paused to hear his song While swift the sunny moments slid, Perhaps his mate sat listening long, And listened longer than I did.
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16.1k
A Green Cornfield
It is the way my traditional head cloth covers my head artistically. Giving me a sense of a gracefully hand made Crown. Passed on from generation to generation by My ancestors from all corners of Africa. It is the way my hands flatter when I narrate a story. Giving me a sense of articulation. Pride, dances through my veins. It is the way my body moves to rhythm from hip to hip. Shoulders momentarily shaking to the sound of unique beads woven Shekere. Legs aggressively moving to the talking drum. It is the way I speak to my elders with respect. Knees on the floor when taking or giving them something. Sweep the compound when asked to. Adherence of instructions turn to turn. Heritage moves with me in one accord.
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Sep 2, 2016
Sep 2, 2016 at 8:29 AM UTC
What is Heritage?
Thou didst not make me come I came of my own accord now you tell me that you're bored how can I improve on my sweet Lord Thou art a ruffian - unskilled in the art of ********** no tantric *** more like Titanic with a hex I always know what's coming next Who wrote my script and said that: I wouldst love you no matter what? maybe it was you more likely than not I must be thankful, pretend with what I've got Now thou art coming again - never mind my pain why is it that my loss has to be your gain?
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May 31, 2016
May 31, 2016 at 12:55 PM UTC
OLD ENGLISH **********
Father could reprogram all six billion of us if He felt the  need, anytime In fact that's exactly what He did at Babel when our dodgy one-accord threatened to bring the end nearer than the six millenniums of earthtime He'd allocated for us to seek His truth He even re-wired Balak for a minute to hear his donkey speak and think of the Assyrians that fled when He caused four lepers to sound like a mighty mercenary army coming to rescue Jerusalem YHWH is omnipotent, like it not The reason He's not 'interfering' right now is simply because His plan is dead on time He intends to blow the chaff from  His wheat The true wheat, His remnant that stays faithful (through Revelations and the mark) will form a new constitution when Yeshua returns for a thousand years of peace on earth You may think "Oh I'll wait and see if it's true, like, if the two witnesses really die and then rise again in three days" Problem with that approach is simple You could be brainwashed before then The neurophone is widely used today Think of 911, why Bush isn't impeached and read surveillanceissues.com Those of us who really care will continue to bug you and **** your spirit Hopefully you'll make the right choice and refuse the mark of the beast Consider these things while there's time 'After me the storm' won't cut it There are less than three short years to go * Gen 6:3 And Jehovah said, My spirit shall not always strive with man, in his erring; he is flesh. Yet his days shall be a hundred and twenty years. The 120 years referred to here in fact represent 120 jubilees, or 6000 years (2000 from Adam to the flood, 2000 from the flood to Yeshua and 2000 from Yeshua till 2017)
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Jun 3, 2010
Jun 3, 2010 at 2:37 AM UTC
Who's in charge here ?
Father could reprogram all six billion of us if He felt the  need, anytime In fact that's exactly what He did at Babel when our dodgy one-accord threatened to bring the end nearer than the six millenniums of earthtime He'd allocated for us to seek His truth He even re-wired Balak for a minute to hear his donkey speak and think of the Assyrians that fled when He caused four lepers to sound like a mighty mercenary army coming to rescue Jerusalem YHWH is omnipotent, like it not The reason He's not 'interfering' right now is simply because His plan is dead on time He intends to blow the chaff from  His wheat The true wheat, His remnant that stays faithful (through Revelations and the mark) will form a new constitution when Yeshua returns for a thousand years of peace on earth You may think "Oh I'll wait and see if it's true, like, if the two witnesses really die and then rise again in three days" Problem with that approach is simple You could be brainwashed before then The neurophone is widely used today Think of 911, why Bush isn't impeached and read surveillanceissues.com Those of us who really care will continue to bug you and **** your spirit Hopefully you'll make the right choice and refuse the mark of the beast Consider these things while there's time 'After me the storm' won't cut it There are less than three short years to go * Gen 6:3 And Jehovah said, My spirit shall not always strive with man, in his erring; he is flesh. Yet his days shall be a hundred and twenty years. The 120 years referred to here in fact represent 120 jubilees, or 6000 years (2000 from Adam to the flood, 2000 from the flood to Yeshua and 2000 from Yeshua till 2017)
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38
Wake up. Breathe. Take your pill please. Exercise. Work. Don’t ever smirk. Wrong. Right. No need to fight Live. Die. Why even try? The Political cult leads the day, It dictates what we do, what we say. Thinking is a luxury we shall soon not afford, No more choices, at least.. not of your own accord. You’ll get the news from an IV drip, Government lies go straight to the chip. Notifications from corporations and friend requests from secret police Refuse one or all, it’ll be your fall, and your contract with us will cease. We’ll delete your name, and wipe all the files, Deny any knowledge and bury you under the tiles. You’ll never be heard from, you’ll never be seen, You’ll never have existed, you’ll never have been.
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Apr 15, 2015
Apr 15, 2015 at 2:46 PM UTC
Good day, bad tomorrow
i breathe one breath at a time each inhalation linked to the exhalation before it yet every breath stands alone there's something tenuous about it this soft machine is on thin ice devoured by time in innocent increments like a moth nibbles away wool my heart little gorilla wearing itself out rubber glove with a hole in it weird luck my eyes are bright solar blue ball lanterns if you saw me you would say good bones river of envy yet all hinges on a muscular rhythmic pulsating machine like a determined jaw chewing jumpy mouth yet on the verge of betrayal a glitch karmic indecision   in destinies wheel house a red fist locus banging ones immense sense of self a vainglorious elaboration built over a small pulsating muscle innocuous dumb blood flesh knot drumming scarlet tribe throne of my very soul great sovereign old man in a crib splitting open of its own accord   a sudden rip from life to a dead sea eternity the final frontier starless night
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May 5, 2017
May 5, 2017 at 1:54 PM UTC
I BREATHE
Derartu, Haile, Tirunesh Kenenisa, Meseret, and all With a similar footfall! Displaying a superb Long-distance athletic feat When many superstars Awe inspiringly you beat And as a result of it When your sought-for Fought-for And nation- prayed-for Dream proves a hit And also with kudos A stadium full of people opt You to greet And when spectators Accord you a high five It is for your country's  flag You  immediately dive! Also on the podium while Ethiopia's row-wise Green,Yellow and Red Emblazoned flag, Shoulder high, Soars above You express Your  umbilical cord-tight National love With tears that Trickle down each of Your cheek,quick. Is it because Reminiscent of Each living hero With a life sacrifice That brought colonial Aggression to zero? Is it because The bounty of the land You grew up Seeing first hand? Is it because The cherished corner You cut in the heart of The poor but prideful Ethiopian neighbour? Is it because The unity in diversity That showcases Ethiopia's identity Or citizens hospitality? Is it because At heart strings a tug Or ,among others Gratefulness to Your iron-strong lung When you hear Ethiopian anthem sung? Is it because a secret another Deep down you harbour? Is it because the Fertility Hope and Sovereignty ideals The flag advance, Also Ethiopia's being A beacon of independence What is more The nation's renaissance Which in a curtain of mist Before your eyes dance?
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Oct 12, 2015
Oct 12, 2015 at 5:02 AM UTC
An overriding national feeling
We are embodied and entrusted with the word To keep preaching until every voice is heard To not keep it in but let the world know About the lamp at our feet which continues to glow Help all the needy and make there day bright Lead them out of the darkness and into the light Show them a way that is supposed to be bold That a soul is to be treasured and not to be sold We cast out demons and rebuke evil spirits In the name of Jesus we are not gonna fear it Walking tall carrying a double edged sword Bringing all into unity and on one accord We will make over comers out of underachievers And to all the doubters we will make them believers It starts with a vision and a plan to succeed And into mans heart we shall sow our creed In the name of Jesus is all that we ask Just give us the strength to carry out this task
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Oct 6, 2012
Oct 6, 2012 at 3:28 PM UTC
The Great Commission
lost in a sky of strange and far places a hint of a house and treetops in the mist guide my way to you she gazes into the same skies as you do may your thoughts also come to be one of accord if you answered the tapping of every water bird even a wandering moon could enter if the haze had not come out to go in between the moon and flowers otherwise even the birds nests might have burst into blossom boat upon high seas if you are drifting without a harbor or course give me a call and I'll row out to teach you about ports not even knowing the meaning which the color of lavender has but watching it carefully this one's heart is deeply touched Murasaki Shikibu, A String of Flowers, Untied...
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Jun 19, 2014
Jun 19, 2014 at 3:53 PM UTC
Poems from the Tale of Genji
you were quiet and i was loud, talkative you asked to borrow a pencil so i gave you the one with the hellokitty stickers on it just to see you smile you gave it back with a note and i read in my car in the parking lot after class it said that you thought my hands were beautiful, but i always thought that they were too small and definitely too pudgy and said so underneath the scrawl of hellokitty’s graphite. oh, and thanks when i gave it back, you looked confused and turned the scrap over to show me the name on the front and it wasn’t mine that same day someone slashed the tires on your honda accord
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Feb 20, 2012
Feb 20, 2012 at 11:08 PM UTC
pencil
A tug of war It is the past experience and what was saw and felt A word in keeping a person in line A restriction of one’s thoughts and actions A procedure in holding one back ******* being a form beyond one’s accord Thank God there is a Lord There is a chance to survive More than a thought being a strive I dream but all I see is a nightmare I see effort, but when will there be preserver? Its like a road block with detour A method of turn back I feel as if I am trapped in bonds Maybe I am still sleep and need to wake up from my yond Perhaps it’s nothing more than a dream It’s my thinking I am in a movie stream But its truly tough being rough A different slavery oppression of the past with a theory of the present A overseer continuing in present oppression A silenced voice having no expression The downward bound with no mountain reach It’s time for a rebellion approach Oppression is real and not a joke It’s like an open wound with having a stinging poke Oppression is alive and attempting to do well Yet the world has a message in tell ‘OPPRESS AND OVERCOME, ITS ABOUT NO MOVEMENT AND BEING NUMB. IT TAKES MULTITUDES IN SUPPLYING THE STRENGTH, BUT ALL MUST GO THE MILES NO MATTER WHAT THE LENGTH” Survival is how you chose to live Its not a verb but is subjective The voice must always be objective Oppression cannot continue in terms in having its way The sunrise has risen and it’s a tomorrow being a new day These are the times to move forward and be strong It’s a matter of all personalities of creeds in knowing how to get along So shake whatever chains you feel you have on Stand up and be counted where you belong Don’t let any form of oppression hold you back You have grasped the concept of understanding in the theory of thinking sharp being the detailed tack Just give oppression one big smack Listen America it’s the various cultures that stack Oppression stand back as you have been defeated being a pack.
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Jan 23, 2016
Jan 23, 2016 at 5:18 PM UTC
OPPRESSION
A tug of war It is the past experience and what was saw and felt A word in keeping a person in line A restriction of one’s thoughts and actions A procedure in holding one back ******* being a form beyond one’s accord Thank God there is a Lord There is a chance to survive More than a thought being a strive I dream but all I see is a nightmare I see effort, but when will there be preserver? Its like a road block with detour A method of turn back I feel as if I am trapped in bonds Maybe I am still sleep and need to wake up from my yond Perhaps it’s nothing more than a dream It’s my thinking I am in a movie stream But its truly tough being rough A different slavery oppression of the past with a theory of the present A overseer continuing in present oppression A silenced voice having no expression The downward bound with no mountain reach It’s time for a rebellion approach Oppression is real and not a joke It’s like an open wound with having a stinging poke Oppression is alive and attempting to do well Yet the world has a message in tell ‘OPPRESS AND OVERCOME, ITS ABOUT NO MOVEMENT AND BEING NUMB. IT TAKES MULTITUDES IN SUPPLYING THE STRENGTH, BUT ALL MUST GO THE MILES NO MATTER WHAT THE LENGTH” Survival is how you chose to live Its not a verb but is subjective The voice must always be objective Oppression cannot continue in terms in having its way The sunrise has risen and it’s a tomorrow being a new day These are the times to move forward and be strong It’s a matter of all personalities of creeds in knowing how to get along So shake whatever chains you feel you have on Stand up and be counted where you belong Don’t let any form of oppression hold you back You have grasped the concept of understanding in the theory of thinking sharp being the detailed tack Just give oppression one big smack Listen America it’s the various cultures that stack Oppression stand back as you have been defeated being a pack.
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42
Loudly it sounded, The horns message clear, The gods had been warned, The giants were near. From Jotunheim to Midgard To Asgard they came, Their intent was clear, Their purpose the same. Loudly they shouted, They yelled, and they raged, The gods and the giants Were battle engaged. Thor with his hammer and Vidar with shoe, One would think battle Was all that they knew. Tyr with one hand And Frey with no sword, They should have stayed back, But of their own accord Into battle they leapt, Into battle they ran, Against the giants To make their stand. The moon and the sun, Luna and Sol, Went into the bellies of Hati and Skoll. Tidal waves crashed all over the world, Out of the oceans came The serpent of Midgard. Thor ran at the beast, The great Fenrir Wolf, But he was soon In snakes coils engulfed. Thor pounded away, He hammered the snake, But he did no damage, No dent did he make. The great Fenrir Wolf Rushed at Odin, The god stabbed with his spear, But the great wolf did win. Vidar rushed at the beast With his big heavy shoe, Kicked in the jaw, The Fenrir Wolf flew Away from the battle, away from the fray, In the depths of space The Fenrir Wolf stays. The gods and the giants, The battle they fought, And in the end it was all for naught. They destroyed each other, Each and every one, And out of the darkness Came a new sun. In the sun’s warmth, A great green was spread, The great land had died, And was back from the dead. Two gods were left, The young sons of Thor, They were spared because they were good and pure. The gods met with two humans Who had lived through the strife, And together they planned a new and better life. And for this reason, The Norse people say, The gods stay in Asgard To this very day. But if in the future The giants attack, The gods will come to Midgard, And they will attack.
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Aug 30, 2012
Aug 30, 2012 at 11:50 AM UTC
The Battle at Midgard
Loudly it sounded, The horns message clear, The gods had been warned, The giants were near. From Jotunheim to Midgard To Asgard they came, Their intent was clear, Their purpose the same. Loudly they shouted, They yelled, and they raged, The gods and the giants Were battle engaged. Thor with his hammer and Vidar with shoe, One would think battle Was all that they knew. Tyr with one hand And Frey with no sword, They should have stayed back, But of their own accord Into battle they leapt, Into battle they ran, Against the giants To make their stand. The moon and the sun, Luna and Sol, Went into the bellies of Hati and Skoll. Tidal waves crashed all over the world, Out of the oceans came The serpent of Midgard. Thor ran at the beast, The great Fenrir Wolf, But he was soon In snakes coils engulfed. Thor pounded away, He hammered the snake, But he did no damage, No dent did he make. The great Fenrir Wolf Rushed at Odin, The god stabbed with his spear, But the great wolf did win. Vidar rushed at the beast With his big heavy shoe, Kicked in the jaw, The Fenrir Wolf flew Away from the battle, away from the fray, In the depths of space The Fenrir Wolf stays. The gods and the giants, The battle they fought, And in the end it was all for naught. They destroyed each other, Each and every one, And out of the darkness Came a new sun. In the sun’s warmth, A great green was spread, The great land had died, And was back from the dead. Two gods were left, The young sons of Thor, They were spared because they were good and pure. The gods met with two humans Who had lived through the strife, And together they planned a new and better life. And for this reason, The Norse people say, The gods stay in Asgard To this very day. But if in the future The giants attack, The gods will come to Midgard, And they will attack.
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80
There are two images On the wall of the room Where I live in; One is ‘Gandhi’ on his way to Dandi Another is of a **** with his gun, In between the images there is a Sprawling spider web, Networking peace with warfare Or warfare with peace! My soul mate said   “Spider web trying to network Post-modern peace with humanity & masculinity So, that everyone agrees to it before deconstruction out of trepidation.”
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Jun 11, 2014
Jun 11, 2014 at 3:40 PM UTC
Post modern accord
So ends the Drama locked into your Bronze Nike kisses you and shows you her Womb Who, despite Angry Lads, live Life's Beyond Now Married are you to Testimony I guess you will survive the Afterthought Of Promos and Parcels you will not Resist The Wheel turns again; And in your Forenaught Honest Advices refuse to make a Fist You have this Resume of Deaf-Record, Partial to Characters you do not Like Even if they ask Penance for your Accord Your Self-Righteousness slaps them in-spite. What's the use? Your Friends will come to your Defense Even if an Ant like me Stings to make Sense.
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Mar 11, 2013
Mar 11, 2013 at 3:52 AM UTC
SONNET TRIBUTE SUNDRY - FIFTY - TOM DALEY
Finally this day has come. To get another go with the sun, A year has it been since the daylight shun. The shadows of Mordor were almost to get me done. What a fine day to have an adventure. Having to save a princess as a departure. The signs are being obvious Birds are flying back to the Mountain, There is no time to be in bore, I need to hurry and reclaim back my Erebor. I’m in wonder of what she is doing. Probably she made plans already by now. Or maybe she didn’t decide on going. Thought that she might be Lonely under the Mountain. I have to get going to save her plain, Must get her out quickly of that fiery chain. But wait, What’s this? My legs are unable to move. Why is my heart trembling with fear? I’ve been waiting for this my entire time, I don’t get it. I don’t get it at all. I’m shaking pathetically, This is getting ridiculously annoying. Move it! Why is my body not responding? I can’t control my body no more It’s totally stuck! Is the sun causing this? But I’m no troll to be affected by this. I’m the Bilbo on this journey, I’m the appointed burglar To steal the precious Arkenstone So what’s happening now really? Am I scared that much That my own body is doing what I should be doing? If this fear is about the journey I’ll take, The dangers I’ll encounter, The perils I’ll meet. That wouldn’t be a serious problem for me not to go. But it’s different. This doesn’t make sense. I need to get rid of this fence. But It’s no use, I’m stuck in this hole in fuse. Stuck in this Shire, While that desolator Smaug is causing fire. I’ve forgotten the time. The shadows are back. Here I am underneath the moon’s refine, Standing still in charcoal leather black Not resisting anymore. I completely stood in my own accord. Tears are spilling down my face. I can feel in my veins the sorrow, And thinking about it made me wonder If I can make it til tomorrow. Then, So sudden it came to me in a flash The reason why I did not move Why I did not meet her. It’s because a year ago I was there. In front of her. My precious Arkenstone Under the Mountains The kings jewel. The jewel that rejected my tiny hands, That reached beyond the Middle of Earth Just for her. The same jewel that replaced me with a greed of a dragon. That burned the glow of what’s inside me. And now I remember it all. Clear as the sky above me. I am no Bilbo Baggins. There is no treasure waiting for me. No adventure as destination. Because this, This is just the Anniversary of my Rejection.
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Feb 13, 2015
Feb 13, 2015 at 10:06 AM UTC
Anniversary of Rejection
Finally this day has come. To get another go with the sun, A year has it been since the daylight shun. The shadows of Mordor were almost to get me done. What a fine day to have an adventure. Having to save a princess as a departure. The signs are being obvious Birds are flying back to the Mountain, There is no time to be in bore, I need to hurry and reclaim back my Erebor. I’m in wonder of what she is doing. Probably she made plans already by now. Or maybe she didn’t decide on going. Thought that she might be Lonely under the Mountain. I have to get going to save her plain, Must get her out quickly of that fiery chain. But wait, What’s this? My legs are unable to move. Why is my heart trembling with fear? I’ve been waiting for this my entire time, I don’t get it. I don’t get it at all. I’m shaking pathetically, This is getting ridiculously annoying. Move it! Why is my body not responding? I can’t control my body no more It’s totally stuck! Is the sun causing this? But I’m no troll to be affected by this. I’m the Bilbo on this journey, I’m the appointed burglar To steal the precious Arkenstone So what’s happening now really? Am I scared that much That my own body is doing what I should be doing? If this fear is about the journey I’ll take, The dangers I’ll encounter, The perils I’ll meet. That wouldn’t be a serious problem for me not to go. But it’s different. This doesn’t make sense. I need to get rid of this fence. But It’s no use, I’m stuck in this hole in fuse. Stuck in this Shire, While that desolator Smaug is causing fire. I’ve forgotten the time. The shadows are back. Here I am underneath the moon’s refine, Standing still in charcoal leather black Not resisting anymore. I completely stood in my own accord. Tears are spilling down my face. I can feel in my veins the sorrow, And thinking about it made me wonder If I can make it til tomorrow. Then, So sudden it came to me in a flash The reason why I did not move Why I did not meet her. It’s because a year ago I was there. In front of her. My precious Arkenstone Under the Mountains The kings jewel. The jewel that rejected my tiny hands, That reached beyond the Middle of Earth Just for her. The same jewel that replaced me with a greed of a dragon. That burned the glow of what’s inside me. And now I remember it all. Clear as the sky above me. I am no Bilbo Baggins. There is no treasure waiting for me. No adventure as destination. Because this, This is just the Anniversary of my Rejection.
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76
Pick up any respected poetry collection. Are there poems that go on and on about ex lovers? I'm not talking about a motif or a metaphor, I'm talking about something like: "I remember your hair color I remember your shirt size I remember your favorite ice cream" Did any of that seem interesting? No, it's a list of junk you miss. People in a similar position might find it relatable, but what's to stop that from being a blog or Tumblr post? If you're going to be autobiographical, you need to walk a thin line between whining and writing poetry. Plath wrote poetry about her life, but she sure as hell did not write strictly about her life. It has to be alive on its own accord, not because you're a human being there to be the meat puppet for a human idea.
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Aug 24, 2013
Aug 24, 2013 at 9:32 PM UTC
On the autobiographical
to turn into  the whole wide world, the one that I design, the one with lights of glistening gold and wonder undefined. Is to ignore the very brutal truth, on one's own accord, ignorant and powerful, a mistake one can't afford. So here I am, as usual, how deeply I deny, that "everything isn't so bad" I stumble in the lie. ..maybe one day i'll get to see, right through the guise of gold- the one disguising my whole life the one denial upholds Goodbye tomorrow- stay away- I wish to be no more. my heart contorted, my mind deflates as my soul and spirit tore.
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Aug 19, 2017
Aug 19, 2017 at 4:37 PM UTC
Goodbye Tomorrow
I am the barbed thorn the serrated reward facing savage cruel winter; sedition in transmission. I am the only pawn on your chequered board facing a feisty queen; of restricting submission. I am the demonic exon a heraldic discord facing bleak futures; an inherent disposition. I am the stillborn reborn the aberration restored facing anomalies instability; violation on a mission. I am broken and worn a fallen sword facing a grim battle; outnumbered by division. I am the brass horn the out of tune chord facing orchestral expulsion; a musician in remission. I am history's forewarn the contrite accord ignored facing penitent absolution; clemency in transition.
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Jun 22, 2014
Jun 22, 2014 at 10:32 PM UTC
Demonic Exon
may the way that gives way to this accord of may be in awe of truth and not the fruits of disarray I shall be meditating upon the roads travelled and many discoveries gather that I have unravelled I shall curl my high excitements and misguided ambitions to unfurl what the calls of the wise unfurl and admonish In the mist amidst the tricking twists of fits and false gists, may I hold up fists that will seize to desist and delete the disease of fallacy in curtailed wit In the shadows dark, some pale may I not fade into the tales of lies and manipulative games In the guise of dames so modern and fabulously inclined to fame, may I guage and carry my animosity into the mystery of my identity where only the genuine and real can relate In the encounters with material and all that deters from the mystic and ethereal, I hope to remember the real surreal to surmise the reels of fantasy thrills in graphic frills and euphonic trills However the gigantic systems of the world in money, greed, vanity or lust, may doctor sickness into the souls of the lost and weak: may my heart remain meek and my vision bright and led by the lens of the soul.... With or without I pray not as a religious pilgrim but a sage seeking neverending Light... ever the more grateful, harnessing the grapes of creation, worshiping a servant's code in humility. hustling about this rash hassle of life overshadowed by pyramids and castles remaining true to the cause even when temptation is endlessly bustling about remember remember the hustle when you were down and out without
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Jun 6, 2015
Jun 6, 2015 at 1:48 AM UTC
a hustler's prayer
may the way that gives way to this accord of may be in awe of truth and not the fruits of disarray I shall be meditating upon the roads travelled and many discoveries gather that I have unravelled I shall curl my high excitements and misguided ambitions to unfurl what the calls of the wise unfurl and admonish In the mist amidst the tricking twists of fits and false gists, may I hold up fists that will seize to desist and delete the disease of fallacy in curtailed wit In the shadows dark, some pale may I not fade into the tales of lies and manipulative games In the guise of dames so modern and fabulously inclined to fame, may I guage and carry my animosity into the mystery of my identity where only the genuine and real can relate In the encounters with material and all that deters from the mystic and ethereal, I hope to remember the real surreal to surmise the reels of fantasy thrills in graphic frills and euphonic trills However the gigantic systems of the world in money, greed, vanity or lust, may doctor sickness into the souls of the lost and weak: may my heart remain meek and my vision bright and led by the lens of the soul.... With or without I pray not as a religious pilgrim but a sage seeking neverending Light... ever the more grateful, harnessing the grapes of creation, worshiping a servant's code in humility. hustling about this rash hassle of life overshadowed by pyramids and castles remaining true to the cause even when temptation is endlessly bustling about remember remember the hustle when you were down and out without
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the cherry blossom accord/equation ”perfumers use aromachemicals to recreate a cherry blossom accord...(an accord is a scent made up of individual aromachemicals, that when combined, create a harmonious blend where none of the individual ingredients are able to be detected on their own).” the odor of our lustful eyes, the sweat, a unique commingling, a sheen of salted oils body bathing, crushed green petals of peaches, crumbled together with the softy fuzz shavings, the sediment of aromatic fruit juices drippings our blending bottled in our brains, none other would recognize but we, to too two smell each other through and over floors, concourses, cities, disparate distances our ingredients secreted (secret), our flavors cell secreted (secreting) the world’s silly tittering aroma inserted, our sparking fingertips touching add a bush burning burnt odiferous we seat across from each other in an airport plastic restaraunt and everyone asks out loudly, what is that smell, feed me that, taste me that, as we are irradiating the atmosphere, as we renegotiate our cherry blossom accord, fresh signatures, updated, harmony of harmonies, notarized she smiles, I joke, winking, we must continue to meet like this, the fireworks of we, of us, to-gather to-gether, a getting of giving, she answers: *take me home and bathe me in love, give our bodies shelter from the world outside, beside a new spice have I uncovered, this will require some discussion+exploration, the quantity to be added, the when, and the how!* what is this new ingredient? asking puzzled and aroused, she laughs (a spice already included), why it’s called only love poetry 8/23/19 4:55pm
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Aug 23, 2019
Aug 23, 2019 at 5:06 PM UTC
the cherry blossom accord/equation
the cherry blossom accord/equation ”perfumers use aromachemicals to recreate a cherry blossom accord...(an accord is a scent made up of individual aromachemicals, that when combined, create a harmonious blend where none of the individual ingredients are able to be detected on their own).” the odor of our lustful eyes, the sweat, a unique commingling, a sheen of salted oils body bathing, crushed green petals of peaches, crumbled together with the softy fuzz shavings, the sediment of aromatic fruit juices drippings our blending bottled in our brains, none other would recognize but we, to too two smell each other through and over floors, concourses, cities, disparate distances our ingredients secreted (secret), our flavors cell secreted (secreting) the world’s silly tittering aroma inserted, our sparking fingertips touching add a bush burning burnt odiferous we seat across from each other in an airport plastic restaraunt and everyone asks out loudly, what is that smell, feed me that, taste me that, as we are irradiating the atmosphere, as we renegotiate our cherry blossom accord, fresh signatures, updated, harmony of harmonies, notarized she smiles, I joke, winking, we must continue to meet like this, the fireworks of we, of us, to-gather to-gether, a getting of giving, she answers: *take me home and bathe me in love, give our bodies shelter from the world outside, beside a new spice have I uncovered, this will require some discussion+exploration, the quantity to be added, the when, and the how!* what is this new ingredient? asking puzzled and aroused, she laughs (a spice already included), why it’s called only love poetry 8/23/19 4:55pm
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catch the last wave and i'll be there combing the beachhead of our misery swollen with big love, choking on the theory of our negative heavens you and i, we marvel at the heresy of our wisdom and cherish no giant over divine we david the furies that are nephelim but conjure no gods where the plastic can't be useful we dunder in the bluff of innocent cupids we - the idiots on the cliff - dancing when the glockenspiel itches ! clock faced and *** up i'll be there with black honey, " With You " no doubt pondering the wrinkles in your sleep breath. the sweet killing of tomcats and mackerels the plain fact that our noses are numb from eskimo kissing in the igloo of our perpetual alaska the arctic furnace of our wild fires of pure illusion to trod stunning over hell's paradise and catch a glimpse of snarky stark Silence... You catch the last wave - and i'll be nothing but the singing bones of the wind in the throes of an ****** of  " need you "  and only you. a chosen cyclone from heaven i'll be just a little boy in the clutches of a dead teddy where the poppies sing hallelujah ! and our hearts blight the orchid of our accord. and down - comes, what ? what do we do ? what could we possibly ? we hopscotch the bonnets and glue ravenous bumblebees to a blanket of snow. cause we have the technology - we can disassemble it... discretely.
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Aug 6, 2013
Aug 6, 2013 at 3:24 PM UTC
We Hopscotch The Bonnets And Glue Ravenous Bumblebees To A Blanket Of Snow
Know this—I am well acquainted with the wolf, Well versed in his ways, his demeanor, His dispassionate relentlessness, His pitiless focus on hunt and hunted, His workaday disdain of pity. There are those who would laud the mythical Spartan lad Who hid the wolf beneath his cloak, Affecting some gallant stoicism As the beast consumed him without restraint, But I say to you that is a mere romantic fallacy, A wanton failure to apprehend the true moral. I have learned that there is no accommodation, No covenant to be reached with the wolf, And any attempt to do so is merely to invite destruction, And so I choose to engage him openly, without reservation, Rolling tail-over-teacup in the streets, Attempting to hold his jaws open with bare hands While those who find such battle unseemly and uncouth Jeer and hoot from porch and portico. No matter, for I will continue to meet the cur on my terms, For staid suffering in the hopes Of reaching some accord with the beast Is the not the act of the noble sage: It is the mock heroics of the coward, The sad acquiescence of the simpering fool.
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Mar 20, 2018
Mar 20, 2018 at 2:02 PM UTC
A Variation On Edgar Lee Masters' "Dorcas Gustine"
"Your Mac battery is running dangerously low." It made me laugh that they used the word dangerously. Just how dangerous could a low computer battery be? Stall your Netflix watching or your Pinterest spree. But then I thought about skype calls cut off as a father overseas is watching his baby being born. Or a start of the wedding march as the bride in white stands adorn. I started to think about how something innocent can become the most dangerous thing in the world. How the usage of the medium decides the power it stores. Like a Mac battery being dangerous, another thing which is not to toy. Three words put together and said in one accord. "I Love Pizza." is nothing to remark. But "I love you." can start a dangerous. Dangerous. Spark.
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Jul 12, 2014
Jul 12, 2014 at 2:09 PM UTC
Dangerously Low