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"adulterate" poems
Fond woman, which wouldst have thy husband die, And yet complain’st of his great jealousy; If swol’n with poison, he lay in his last bed, His body with a sere-bark covered, Drawing his breath, as thick and short, as can The nimblest crocheting musician, Ready with loathsome vomiting to spew His soul out of one hell, into a new, Made deaf with his poor kindred’s howling cries, Begging with few feigned tears, great legacies, Thou wouldst not weep, but jolly and frolic be, As a slave, which tomorrow should be free; Yet weep’st thou, when thou seest him hungerly Swallow his own death, hearts-bane jealousy. O give him many thanks, he’s courteous, That in suspecting kindly warneth us Wee must not, as we used, flout openly, In scoffing riddles, his deformity; Nor at his board together being sat, With words, nor touch, scarce looks adulterate; Nor when he swol’n, and pampered with great fare Sits down, and snorts, caged in his basket chair, Must we usurp his own bed any more, Nor kiss and play in his house, as before. Now I see many dangers; for that is His realm, his castle, and his diocese. But if, as envious men, which would revile Their Prince, or coin his gold, themselves exile Into another country, and do it there, We play in another house, what should we fear? There we will scorn his houshold policies, His seely plots, and pensionary spies, As the inhabitants of Thames’ right side Do London’s Mayor; or Germans, the Pope’s pride.
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Elegy I: Jealousy
’Tis better to be vile than vile esteemed When not to be receives reproach of being, And the just pleasure lost, which is so deemed Not by our feeling, but by others’ seeing. For why should others’ false adulterate eyes Give salutation to my sportive blood? Or on my frailties why are frailer spies, Which in their wills count bad what I think good? No, I am that I am, and they that level At my abuses reckon up their own. I may be straight though they themselves be bevel. By their rank thoughts, my deeds must not be shown, Unless this general evil they maintain: All men are bad, and in their badness reign.
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Sonnet 121: Tis Better To Be Vile Than Vile Esteemed
Complication is a word that I want, not to exist, But it always seems to, around me, persist. Calculations when I do for the good of all, Somewhere I get attracted to the selfish scenery and then fear for the fall. Anger rises, for the tree's not growing even after feeding water, But the water used was impure I know it in inside, So while walking away from the tree, my breathing stutters. But the water was pure when I took it in the jug, I had taken the care, But the devil infatuates me and his germs adulterate it, I am innocent so I get a crush on him, blaming only me isnt fair. Guilt comes for the rescue. How.? You would wonder, Sooner the guilt sooner the absolution and then works the sander. I know I have made a mistake and I feel sorry at the very next moment, Please dont dry away oh tree. I promise now, to feed u till u feel the content. Every bad action has the regretful reaction at the same instant in my heart, How do all feelings travel in the same beat of the heart..? I hold a hammer when walking this life with mistakes, the devil's call, Because when I try to find myself again, getting closer are the walls.
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Jan 1, 2014
Jan 1, 2014 at 11:18 AM UTC
Absolution
"'Tis better to be vile than vile esteemed." Oh, Shakespeare, knowest thou not what is in my dreams? I am both for I do bad deeds, yet from judgement I receive no relief. Their eyes are adulterate, but so are mine; both our eyes with sins do shine. Thou seest not what I do; I am evil through and through. The worst of evils am I, for in my soul I am kind, though my exterior pierce like barbs, for I let myself be rule not by my heart. I soothe the pain with hidden love praying at least to be forgiven by God above.
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Apr 4, 2015
Apr 4, 2015 at 1:32 PM UTC
Sonnet 121
If these fingers touched ink, let what flows be untainted and true; unsmeared and sure. If these hands mould clay, let what is made be sturdy. Be uncracked, unblemished and smooth like porcelain. If this body pivots upon legs, let it stand upright and tall. So no wind could fell it down. But should it topple, let no earth will it shatter. If this mind invites another, let no thought nor idea adulterate its own... For its ways may wind and meander, but it is obstinate. If this heart still beats, no matter how faint... Let its rhythm be steady and unrelenting. So it might echo through long days and moonless nights to find others like it. Then, I may not feel so alone.
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Feb 7, 2019
Feb 7, 2019 at 2:20 PM UTC
Introspecting
Complication is a word that I want, not to exist, But it always seems to, around me, persist. Calculations when I do for the good of all, Somewhere I get attracted to the selfish scenery and then fear for the fall. Anger rises, for the tree's not growing even after feeding water, But the water used was impure I know it in inside, So while walking away from the tree, my breathing stutters. But the water was pure when I took it in the jug, I had taken the care, But the devil infatuates me and his germs adulterate it, I am innocent so I get a crush on him, blaming only me isnt fair. Guilt comes for the rescue. How.? You would wonder, Sooner the guilt sooner the absolution and then works the sander. I know I have made a mistake and I feel sorry at the very next moment, Please dont dry away oh tree. I promise now, to feed u till u feel the content. Every bad action has the regretful reaction at the same instant in my heart, How do all feelings travel in the same beat of the heart..? I hold a hammer when walking this life with mistakes, the devil's call, Because when I try to find myself again, getting closer are the walls.
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Jan 1, 2014
Jan 1, 2014 at 11:18 AM UTC
Absolution
We adulterate ourselves; this era together. Purposefully, we work to blur the edges of night- memories already fragmented. Perhaps it will cost less if we are cautiously destructive, perhaps the tangle of empty sheets will be less likely to drown us if we begin to forget before the end.
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Oct 23, 2013
Oct 23, 2013 at 5:43 PM UTC
Era
*with the blinding shine of the moon and sparkle of the star the addictive might and strength of a real dancer the captivating yet lacerating stare of a monster in addition to a darkness and allure of a necromancer You ravenously feed on my bones and thirsty drink my blood infesting my humble heart,we're perilously Bonnie and Clyde imbibing the fatal malignant rad of your bad right on the craggy banister of enchantment as we glide Chain me in the celestial hell of your carte Blanche adulterate your amorous lips and kiss me with contagion bequeath the vertigo of pleasure in an avalanche and ship me across River Styx, I'll discover serene in oblivion grapnel my flesh and rip my soft skin as I relish being slain plunge your sledgehammer and bring me the joie de vivre of pain*
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Mar 7, 2016
Mar 7, 2016 at 7:40 AM UTC
Pleasure & Pain
This averred title announced straight away so lingering fans (hoop fully letting me abbreviate) a short cut so ye can up and evacuate, while metered time, not yet foregone and not to late hence best heed mine caution which can protect minimum damage, asper gray matter within pate or blithely ignore admonishment, aye accentuate hmm...okay,...you apparently decided to forsake adequate prophecy, resigning despite honest to dog admission to punctuate a most unpleasant prediction, I did woof lee aerate worst case scenario, leaving disabling genetic trait to effect generations, where legions of lesions adulterate causing future offspring to mutate and closely resemble teenage mutant turtles, this potentate (albeit self declared only mein kampf, thee only life, his existence he can arrogate he doth officiate), hence proceed at your own risk, to avoid unpleasant fate, visited upon unborn sons and daughters uttering imprecations unintelligible expletive laced spate, that would approximate (a cross between duck and pig) incoherently gutturally excoriate ting tee, thus don't tell me, I didn't forewarn ya, whar yar heart might palpitate, thus causing da ole ticker to fluctuate dem eyes of yaws could severely dilate, while sweat gushes out every pore streaming like liquid useless tube video, a salty sea would then perspirate out every last drop of fluid, erupting magmatic plasma to pool agglomerate right under keister, a lovely bag of bones delivered to Norristown State which inability to hydrate, hence resultant mummification heroic measures futile thus humane decision would necessitate and remaining days on Earth numbered starting with zero, not very great, now this extinct reptile hoop heed dead gratefully, express message, and clearly articulate.
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Mar 31, 2019
Mar 31, 2019 at 12:22 AM UTC
Spoiler Forewarning Alert!
This averred title announced straight away so lingering fans (hoop fully letting me abbreviate) a short cut so ye can up and evacuate, while metered time, not yet foregone and not to late hence best heed mine caution which can protect minimum damage, asper gray matter within pate or blithely ignore admonishment, aye accentuate hmm...okay,...you apparently decided to forsake adequate prophecy, resigning despite honest to dog admission to punctuate a most unpleasant prediction, I did woof lee aerate worst case scenario, leaving disabling genetic trait to effect generations, where legions of lesions adulterate causing future offspring to mutate and closely resemble teenage mutant turtles, this potentate (albeit self declared only mein kampf, thee only life, his existence he can arrogate he doth officiate), hence proceed at your own risk, to avoid unpleasant fate, visited upon unborn sons and daughters uttering imprecations unintelligible expletive laced spate, that would approximate (a cross between duck and pig) incoherently gutturally excoriate ting tee, thus don't tell me, I didn't forewarn ya, whar yar heart might palpitate, thus causing da ole ticker to fluctuate dem eyes of yaws could severely dilate, while sweat gushes out every pore streaming like liquid useless tube video, a salty sea would then perspirate out every last drop of fluid, erupting magmatic plasma to pool agglomerate right under keister, a lovely bag of bones delivered to Norristown State which inability to hydrate, hence resultant mummification heroic measures futile thus humane decision would necessitate and remaining days on Earth numbered starting with zero, not very great, now this extinct reptile hoop heed dead gratefully, express message, and clearly articulate.
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