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Philosopoet Nov 2012
I'm tested everyday,
Tempted to throw away
The sanity that's kept my mind at bay
If inconveniences are shadows,
then troubles are ink-blotted water
trickling through the canals of my temporal lobes
which causes me to follow
any thoughts of failure instead of success
better to wallow in bed then get dressed
I almost forget that I am blessed.
I aggress the trickling pain
by staring skyward
like a man seeking the opportunity
to fly
soaring above the problems that cloud the eyes
Bunny Dec 2014
In the thick evening fog

the man walks with his dog

-

The two friends roam leash-less

A bond of no, oppress, aggress, distress

-

They wandered, trailing close but still apart

Yet, never so exceedingly to miss the beat of the other’s heart

-

He breezed on by my petty stroll

looked to me and sang, “Hello”

-

The black dog saw a squirrel, darted towards the bend

I panicked for a moment, “He gonna lose that friend!”

-

Panicky, panicky, pondering, what is loyalty?

Faithful is a friend that never will leave me

-

Their love inspired how beautiful devotion can be

To stay, without being chained, freely.

-

Leading ahead or following quietly behind

I am His and He is mine, without stress of mind.

-

The dog waited and wagged with the squirrel

engaging about his friendly man and the feeling girl.
Glen Gold Jan 2013
Godspeed, Gunslinger
May your gunshots ring
in distant thunder
while the angels sing

Godspeed, Night-Walker
May your axe bury
in Hell's vile stalker
with a great fury

Godspeed, huntress
May you bring vengeance
in the great Aggress
bringing forth penance

Godspeed, Death's Aeon
May you smite your foe
in midst Hell's Legion
bringing forth the woe

Godspeed, Lord Ever-Dark
May your shadows find
ways to make their mark
etched within the mind
Minuscule Ego Sep 2018
We rave, and hailed, all hail the King
A lord who’s lowed, n’ yet, supreme
The savior of wars and of many greed
To govern and yield the land of the free
For tis clear he knows how we became
A root, and a leaf; let’s all hail the king!

This is Liberia!

A chest to aggress with hunger n’ thirst
That fruitfully enjoy climbing the rates
And faintly encourage pointing the worst
To soak n’ appraise the young's of the freed
Whose lost in the land of which they came
A branch, and a leaf; a transparent cry!

This is Liberia!

We rave, and hailed, we want the king
A man who’s loved, n’ yet, disesteem
The sculptor of deeds, and of many glee
To seize n’ dictate the land of undeveloped
For tis loud his assets are well developed
A leaf, and a root; let’s all boo the king!

This is Liberia!

A quest to possess the likeness of Christ
That truthfully enjoy the gees of versed
And skillfully encourage the act of digress
To juiced and yield off the land of the free
Fo tis clear he don’t know how we became
A leaf, and a branch; a transcendent lie!

This is Liberia!



Inspired by: Falz song- “This is Nigeria”
Childish Gambino Song- “This is America”

“I can do all things through Christ who strengthen me”
"A king will remain in power as long as his rule is honest, just, and fair."
Proverbs 20:28
Joseph Sinclair Feb 2015
I do not walk in measured tread,
I cannot spare the time;
And steady pace is better suited to the dead
Or projects more sublime.

I see them dressed in garb of green
As best befits the land
That harbours jihadist and others more obscene
And not their native sand.

They bear allegiance to no state
That may have sheltered them,
But spread instead their ugly message born of hate
And anxious to condemn.

It would be easy to cast blame
On perpetrators of
The outrage that most freshly has induced our shame
And dissipates our love.

But this would be to hide our guilt
At similar events
That other so-called freedom fighters have but built
And empty rage foments.

The question that we must address
Is why these souls should choose
Defection from their lives of love, and thus aggress?
Why do they not refuse?

What is there that holds them in thrall
And draws them to a place
That their forefathers chose to leave for freedom’s call?
Is it a search for grace?

Is it the hope of paradise
Should they in jihad die?
Seventy-two-virgins is perhaps the promise
On which they then rely?

They claim that Allah is their lord,
that Islam is their life.
They spurn the pen; relying solely on the sword.
The Quran is a knife

with which to cut the Gordian knot
that engirdles their guide.
The jihad route to paradise, the unbeliever’s lot.
But we are mystified.

What must we then on our side do      
that hold freedom dearly?
I just demand the freedom that I give to you
Car moi, je suis Charlie.
Overwhelmed Nov 2010
I keep seeing the image of a giant
looking down at the world
fearful to walk for crushing those
he can barely see

It comes to me
as I walk to class during the week

It comes to me
as I talk to friends on the weekend

It comes to me
as I think of anything and everything,
and for the sake of god,
I cannot shake it

It comes to me
as a whisper
nibbling at my ear
then
a *****
that burst my eardrum
telling me to
write
Write!
WRITE!

write for the sake of all that is holy,
all that you value, all that is good,
of the giant that you see in yourself,
and the ants you in see in others.

and I cower to its yelling at first,
but then I grow firmer, taller, bolder,
rising bit by bit to face the monster
living in the back of my mind

by the time I stop my growth
I am the size of sky scraper

Everest looking cowardly below
and my beast looking a microbe
at my feet.

this is when I topple

I do not aggress my shadow
for I know it poses no threat

so I fall
down
down
down
my back moving
forward
my head not seeing
where
I am to
go

I fell down
happily
hoping
for the warm covers of my bed
and a good night’s rest
to greet me
on a roll, but I think this is the last of the night.
J Mcinelly Feb 2021
My days are filled with anxiety

The world ****** up with all these societies

Why can’t I just get help.  

Tears flowing down my face screaming SOS

But nobody can hear me, or don’t want to, I guess

The anxiety builds and builds with aggress

It’s time to just end it is what my mind says

I’m sorry to my family and friends  

I really can’t wait till all this pain ends
Anxiously hypothetical,
These dreams that surround me
Are glued together with the flow of time.

They strain the conscious dimension,
Which both separates and connects
The multitudes of I’s,
To flex and bend
Until they touches themselves at every point;
Illuminating to us whispers of infinitude.

As we move farthest from the light
And sink the deepest within ourselves,
Twisted creatures aggress upon us
And glittering sirens beckon us to their embrace.

With the splintering light of morning,
A first gasp pulls you from the water
And troubled footsteps wash away
The glories and nuisances
Of that surreality whose path you walked.
Separated from the present,
by a single moment in a single thought.
Kelly McManus Dec 2021
If they have their way
living things we have today
won't live much longer...Kelly McManus
Linnea Wilson Jul 2013
Son
Taken to the Rock,
an unknowing sacrifice,
Fathers should protect,
not aggress and ****,
but when he follows,
and agrees to the plan,
eternity is in place.
November 6, 2012
Eric Babsy Sep 2018
You are fake when you are there.
You make me lead a life of damage so disappear.
We are not talking all that gobbledygook.
If you do not know what you did to my life just look.
No more of me trying to placate around.
I can not find anyone to listen right now.
You just scuttle along your business.
Because you ripped me away from my true path of this existence.
Always the one to make me a maladroit.
Sometimes I think you do this to annoy.
It made me feel like a pipsqueak in a vast universe.
You will never make the grade with the past you coerce.
You were always the one to instigate me to aggress.
A kind of quality I could not digest.
My heart is beating like a rataplan.
If you think I can’t stop you, I can.
This is my final written gesture.
Now my life will no longer fester.
I grow forever fonder.
Because I will no longer sit and ponder.
As the years grow faster.
The years you took forever will remain a disaster.
I have been made an ugly creature.
So sit back and enjoy what fight I have left in here.
Here are the new rules.
I have you in stitches, so do not move.
If she
did hollowly
aggress me
in distemper
she's but
a shoe
in these
oboes then
a girl
as somebody
that shan't
belay my
forethought in
ways that
shapely her
heart that
matters more
A girl I know today
TMReed Nov 2019
Dearest of Steam, your breath falls less
from static breast on limping arms
and clouded ears, in-sane aggress.
Go now confess your false alarms,
through seven storms my port undressed,
yet in this chest, your chaplet burns,
my heart returns, in letters blessed,
in scores distressed with lessons learned,
the cries I heard, I can’t forget.
Storms carve deeper scores in gentle harbors.
David R Jun 2021
i know the time i've left on earth
is getting less and less
i feel i've done nought of worth
and from your light digress

like the sea, where land greets firth,
disappears 'neath watercress,
i feel i'm edging into berth
sinking slow to recess

achieved so little since my birth
lost the urge to progress,
my goodness suffers from the dearth
of self-belief and aggress

so much good have you bequeathed me
and scarce have i done justice,
so father, i beseech thee,
afore my soul to you entrusted

open my eyes that i may see
the truth of my position
as Na'amon in Galilee
assist me in my ablution
serendipity May 2023
He speaks in shivers,
He caresses,
He confesses,
He undresses.
Heady lessons of
His essence,
Effervescence,
Have me so tempted. So
I acquiesce,
A sorceress
I undress,
And I aggress,
As I digress,
That he shines to brightly to be ignored.
sandra wyllie Jan 2022
of zebras
I’m a stallion
a red-hot blooded Italian
my stripes don’t brand me
strong as brandy
I kick up dust

In a world
of dark clouds
I’m a bolt of lightning
Look out!
I’m striking

In a world
of blooming roses
I’m a thorn
I’ll husk you
as an ear of corn

In a world
of compromise
I’ll not acquiesce
I'll stand my ground
as men aggress
https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B09PKB2LZY/ref=dbs_a_def_rwt_hsch_vapi_tkin_p1_i3
Ken Pepiton Nov 17
That's life.

Yes, those, these days,
the survivors
of these days,

we saw things our fathers
never imagined mortals could see

subcategorical weforms, evolved.

Some… subcategorical weforms
informed the world's conservative
branches
on the tree
of life… some
informed the latest cultivars… some
branched more citrusy, sour notes
become letters loosed
as knots
on ancient init-iation rites, keys
for the priesthood
of qwerty people.


the exalted authority
of incense burners,
and chanters
to the eerie flutes
of bone,

the high church liturgy
of order preservation,

Jongleurs, called forth,
as organizing engineers
of interfacing windows,

all, could leave, let be

the universe-ifying re-
ality, as realizable,
awesome
as a we
really
as a we, if
we agree, aggress
progressively, re
garding who can
know which lies

are legal,
because the Bible depicts
Yah himself loosing a lieing spirit, yes,

long justified
in all Bible authorized churches.

Evidence, that one may lie,
to protect the innocent or
to revive the mystery…
to be revealed…

As has hapt… evidently
we got away with it, that they say,

this we, we involved
in evolving,
as we think and reason, balance,

ratiocination, really, weights
and measures, balance useful

against cost
to become useful

what does it cost
to worship life? Value, at scale?
What price has been put on grace?

Knock, knock yokes.
Open deception,
become broke
beguiled, but convinced,
there is a trick
to making life,

some secret, kept
so some souls enslaved
by fear fed them as a child,

become guards, predicted to be
needed after prisons went commercial.

Train up a child
in the way it should go,
when it is old it will not depart
from the greatness made believed.

Witness those bred
to play football, the attitude,
is always ready, for some football…

mind relaxing Aztec version,
heart and soul, all in, big time!


The hero sees the end, his own
steaming heart on the altar.
A local legend.
Chuck Kean Mar 2020
Destiny

     Destiny is a video game
We play it on our Xbox or PS3
I am still not sure if it's a game
That's a good game for me

My brothers are hoping
That I become a true hero fighter
I don't know if it will ever come to be
But I did **** the giant tank spider

Time slips away as we fight aliens
On a distant planet in a far off Galaxy
It is amazing how realistic it all seems
As the three of us get lost in the fantasy

As Titans or Warlocks we fight
To save the existence of Humanity
And we bond as brothers and pat
Ourselves on the back for our false vanity

We are men with lives and we all
Have our own responsibility
We become children when we play
As we join together in a war of hostility

Me in Worthington and Dave in Gahanna
And Jimbo in Zanesville
Yet we fight together on the same planet
In the same building or on the same hill

Having a great time with out a care
Of our everyday life and stress
Taking turns being the one forging forward
With initiative and great aggress

As I pack it all into my vault of great memories
I wonder of our fantasy and our reality
And what will become of each when
We reach our final destiny

Written By:Charles Kean
Copyright 7/8/2017
All rights reserved

— The End —