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"agreements" poems
Dear Brother, We had fights We had tears We had moments That helped me You only last once You only care of me You only love me Throughout life You are my brother We had ups We had downs We had arguments That helped me You’re my protector You’re my best friend You’re my favorite Leo Throughout life You are my brother We had talks We had agreements We had disagreements That helped me You’re a son You’re a brother You’re a friend But no matter what I come FIRST! Because you’re my brother But most of all we both came from Nothing to become something So let’s make mom and dad proud! Love, Lil Sis By Zyanneh Frazier
0
Oct 2, 2015
Oct 2, 2015 at 9:07 AM UTC
Dear Brother
1. Spread claims you are the only one who can stop corrupt politicians and their dependence on the rich (even though you yourself belong to the rich) 2. Spread lies and insults about anyone who might look like a serious opponent 3. Once you are in power, continue 1. & 2. and put your rich friends into influential positions in state offices and courts, give tax breaks to the rich and claim that everyone benefits from them. Declare any information that runs counter to your lies „fake news“. 4. Invent threats to the security and well-being of the nation and then claim you are the one who can solve all the problems by strict measures, like building a 2,000 mile wall against those criminal immigrants that threaten your people – what the „fake news“ reports as a few thousand refugees from neighboring countries who flee from misery and persecution and crime and hope to get asylum in your country of 350 million. 5. Cut your aid programs for the home countries of those resfugees so that the situation there worsens even more and even more people will try to run for a better life, and you can rhetorically justify inhuman security measures at your borders. 6. On a different field, isolate your country internationally, be the elefant in the china shop, break or end international agreements, destabilize whole regions, and then threaten to send the military – all of which, you tell your voters, makes your country great again. 7. Start trade wars with old global partners, accusing them of taking advantage of your countrty, and when your own economy suffers from such idiocies, calm your afflicted followers with federal subsidies that jolt the nationl deficit to singular heights. 8. Fire (or mob into retirement) any critical person in your government until all your officials speak with your voice. 9. Look around for a worthy cause to be the focus of your consoldidated power. 10. Start a world war and lose it.
0
Apr 10, 2019
Apr 10, 2019 at 5:21 PM UTC
power games101
1. Spread claims you are the only one who can stop corrupt politicians and their dependence on the rich (even though you yourself belong to the rich) 2. Spread lies and insults about anyone who might look like a serious opponent 3. Once you are in power, continue 1. & 2. and put your rich friends into influential positions in state offices and courts, give tax breaks to the rich and claim that everyone benefits from them. Declare any information that runs counter to your lies „fake news“. 4. Invent threats to the security and well-being of the nation and then claim you are the one who can solve all the problems by strict measures, like building a 2,000 mile wall against those criminal immigrants that threaten your people – what the „fake news“ reports as a few thousand refugees from neighboring countries who flee from misery and persecution and crime and hope to get asylum in your country of 350 million. 5. Cut your aid programs for the home countries of those resfugees so that the situation there worsens even more and even more people will try to run for a better life, and you can rhetorically justify inhuman security measures at your borders. 6. On a different field, isolate your country internationally, be the elefant in the china shop, break or end international agreements, destabilize whole regions, and then threaten to send the military – all of which, you tell your voters, makes your country great again. 7. Start trade wars with old global partners, accusing them of taking advantage of your countrty, and when your own economy suffers from such idiocies, calm your afflicted followers with federal subsidies that jolt the nationl deficit to singular heights. 8. Fire (or mob into retirement) any critical person in your government until all your officials speak with your voice. 9. Look around for a worthy cause to be the focus of your consoldidated power. 10. Start a world war and lose it.
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10
When you help your buddy get married to his girlfriend, Against the wishes of both their families and world, You are observing the actual spirit of Bakrid, No kidding here - I am so serious!! You are helping his career in life of AGREECULTURE, Because marriages are agreements that you sign without reading, And of course you are sacrificing your friendship, Just like the underlying principle of Bakrid.
0
Sep 13, 2016
Sep 13, 2016 at 4:12 AM UTC
When It Is Beyond Profit
"...Let the pines grow out of my skin. Winds howl in my mouth..." --James A. Ciletti. Let the cylinders be there to connect the lonely, grating bones, above the level of the rational falls of water and the pictures, so inspired that They like to appear on stage to whistle as vapors rising through the spout. The moon is smiling down upon the frost of the equation. Perhaps, no animal has been hopping through pristine squares of frozen falling, remembering the singular match, the leaf leaving. { [ d _ ind del d j e ( m ) ] / ( d e ) } = min y ( N , Z ) d t - C . Coldness was like the presence and solutions to incredible problems, growing worse, while others, watching, stood, silently observant, hoping to help, but the springs in the agreements were the assistance for the splashing colors, anticipated and arriving as a series of blades removing lovely, warm weather.
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May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 6:55 PM UTC
We Allow Visions Of Eccentric Pines
In honesty , I don't see a reason not to, I apologise for being crude or being rude or being blunt, I can feel this urge, this craving, this want. I know you've wanted it, And I refuse to dennie it, To be clear an honest, I don't plan to disrespect or disregard, Your words or agreements. But I don't disregard your wants, and I don't see why I would, You make me feel like I shouldn't, but you do like you should. Your eyes scream at me, As your thoughts twisting into my frequencies, calling me, but keeping me at bay. Your body reserved but your fingers twitch, Watching you closely, I can feel your nervous, it's not about me, I can feel you wanting me, but nervous. As I said it's not me, your not nervous about me, you may not know me, but you know me, well enough to or understand or know my intentions, but you know your not nervous because of me, I know you aren't. But I do know why you are. You gave me a reason, but I don't feel you can agree with it, I can feel your regret already building as you say no. But I know why, your afraid, of the problem, of the situation, of the conversation, of the lingering regret of regrets yet felt. But what regrets are more fearsome then the ones we create in our selves? Give your desire to me, rest your eyes from fears, let me take what you want me to have, and I'll give everything I know you want. To me this submission is one long coming, and now it's silent and waiting, Every glance, every bitten lip, every idea of desire, every moment in my presence, I've felt you. Your wants flowing to me like a current from the oceans pull, doubtless as they are, unquestionable, And unrelenting. So to be honest what reason not to, when it seems the scales have set, and balance is in my favor, and yours.
0
Oct 29, 2019
Oct 29, 2019 at 4:01 AM UTC
A reason not to?
In honesty , I don't see a reason not to, I apologise for being crude or being rude or being blunt, I can feel this urge, this craving, this want. I know you've wanted it, And I refuse to dennie it, To be clear an honest, I don't plan to disrespect or disregard, Your words or agreements. But I don't disregard your wants, and I don't see why I would, You make me feel like I shouldn't, but you do like you should. Your eyes scream at me, As your thoughts twisting into my frequencies, calling me, but keeping me at bay. Your body reserved but your fingers twitch, Watching you closely, I can feel your nervous, it's not about me, I can feel you wanting me, but nervous. As I said it's not me, your not nervous about me, you may not know me, but you know me, well enough to or understand or know my intentions, but you know your not nervous because of me, I know you aren't. But I do know why you are. You gave me a reason, but I don't feel you can agree with it, I can feel your regret already building as you say no. But I know why, your afraid, of the problem, of the situation, of the conversation, of the lingering regret of regrets yet felt. But what regrets are more fearsome then the ones we create in our selves? Give your desire to me, rest your eyes from fears, let me take what you want me to have, and I'll give everything I know you want. To me this submission is one long coming, and now it's silent and waiting, Every glance, every bitten lip, every idea of desire, every moment in my presence, I've felt you. Your wants flowing to me like a current from the oceans pull, doubtless as they are, unquestionable, And unrelenting. So to be honest what reason not to, when it seems the scales have set, and balance is in my favor, and yours.
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29
is it love or the parasite ? my pilot bulk                       aims for relief        it pursues this via                             your romantic correction in public arena                   a library stair                     (i never prior encountered you) one step as foreigner         the approach and upon a swift internal pendulum i make witless incisions hurried mended sentences directed stuns invasive i demand the compromise                   of your company hastily push at boundaries and you're not so accommodating                                                  but on a further occasion same building we exchange a battering of conversation that    then        matures            into barter-like use of language despite my harassments   a civil cultivation is unearthed tongue within this intelligence effort i lessen loosen my demanding appearance disregard my dignity      a skin suit about the ankles you're open in a vein of similarity    you flesh out your own controls we've progressed quickly there's an aped conduct                  and flashing attitudes this time we share table space a nearby café we have become quite unmanned     repeated meet ups upon humours we adjust small habits     and shake on perceptions where we overlap it becomes    more an overlay of rationalities         than resented promises fast time passes and i move into your living space                                   i pick a wildflower                                                                    and put it in the tiny vase on your dining table we agree on its colour                                               we agree on a book to make our bible material we agree on the pitch of the tinnitus we share the clothes i am to wear i switch to your diet and you cease taking medications we sleep on your lawn like children and bring down the night sky for comfort during the day we wear our sleep               like a lubrication for our chores and go about our productivity               in genuine partnership yet i feel we're just out of reach             of some dark harm we are an excellent sample pair it is all vital we grow stronger the more we quiz it recycling our ********** refine our agreements await further impulses and come closer to plug so.. do we please love       or simply indulge a parasite ?
0
Nov 23, 2021
Nov 23, 2021 at 10:28 PM UTC
a cultivation
is it love or the parasite ? my pilot bulk                       aims for relief        it pursues this via                             your romantic correction in public arena                   a library stair                     (i never prior encountered you) one step as foreigner         the approach and upon a swift internal pendulum i make witless incisions hurried mended sentences directed stuns invasive i demand the compromise                   of your company hastily push at boundaries and you're not so accommodating                                                  but on a further occasion same building we exchange a battering of conversation that    then        matures            into barter-like use of language despite my harassments   a civil cultivation is unearthed tongue within this intelligence effort i lessen loosen my demanding appearance disregard my dignity      a skin suit about the ankles you're open in a vein of similarity    you flesh out your own controls we've progressed quickly there's an aped conduct                  and flashing attitudes this time we share table space a nearby café we have become quite unmanned     repeated meet ups upon humours we adjust small habits     and shake on perceptions where we overlap it becomes    more an overlay of rationalities         than resented promises fast time passes and i move into your living space                                   i pick a wildflower                                                                    and put it in the tiny vase on your dining table we agree on its colour                                               we agree on a book to make our bible material we agree on the pitch of the tinnitus we share the clothes i am to wear i switch to your diet and you cease taking medications we sleep on your lawn like children and bring down the night sky for comfort during the day we wear our sleep               like a lubrication for our chores and go about our productivity               in genuine partnership yet i feel we're just out of reach             of some dark harm we are an excellent sample pair it is all vital we grow stronger the more we quiz it recycling our ********** refine our agreements await further impulses and come closer to plug so.. do we please love       or simply indulge a parasite ?
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77
We did not ask for agreements or signatures even a due diligence, check out each others entrails, internet outcomes, criminal records social security numbers marriage licenses, children's ages, moles on our mountains of doubt even a fingerprint on a bare breast phone numbers, mates and mistresses drinking and smoking habits salad preferences, vegan, bogan or whatever. We did, however, listen to that heartbeat the words we spoke, the pictures we drew finished, the colours that we painted between rainbows and the children we dreamed who would look like you and me if ever born and how smart they would be and as naughty as those little titters of laughter, that cleared every checkbox. on this shopping list for a mate! We knew that this partnership existed there was nothing we could do to unbreak this bond that grew from a tiny little seed into this one big giant momentum of togetherness. That's a worthwhile partnership several levels above commercial simplicity. Author Notes The romance continues....... © Marshall Gass. All rights reserved, a month ago
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Nov 1, 2014
Nov 1, 2014 at 5:37 PM UTC
The Partnership
Our politicians preach hope While our nation struggles to cope Stacking woman into binders Deaf to all but hired reminders Treaties & agreements for peace While riots rage on in Greece Told that we are doing just fine As more join the food stamp line American banks engorged with greed Planting in free soil a debt ridden seed The next Great Depression has already begun & It matters not which candidate has won With our cancer ridden healthcare Attempts like duc-tape to repair Voting to raise the debt ceiling An American father kneeling Praying to God to find a job While outside “we the people” form a mob The 99% chanting in the streets Stubborn legislatures don’t budge from seats C-span listens to recipes from cookbooks A dull murmur of televised crooks Unemployment continues to rise Prophets sure of the world’s demise
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Dec 4, 2012
Dec 4, 2012 at 3:07 PM UTC
2012- The World's Already Ended
I would love for you to kiss me Kiss me how I could actually feel it. Feelings might not be mutual But agreements are out the door Just because that door is closed The kissing door isn't I want to feel your lips graze mine I want to feel them in me I would love for the kiss to end up With the both of us intertwined Like that one night When I never though I'd feel that kind That kind of chemistry in bodies Unlike the ones I can feel in lobbies I want your hand to hold mine It's terrible that this isn't the right time.
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Jun 11, 2015
Jun 11, 2015 at 12:55 PM UTC
Timing
One day my mind, which is chaotic tried to recollect the past Yes, I need to do this.... After a breakup my mind is really worried And now it has crash landed into the world of words . How? why I'm like this? May be this is the reality ; It is like a splatter film, appalling and dreadful . How did you turned my world upside down ? Even a single word of "love " could have defined me But now not just the whole poem. The whole world thwarted my efforts Break up with cruel “homo-sapiens” is like a big crambo ! You were ready to make agreements Put your ***** "cool" signature On the sheets made with my blood What happened with all that love letters ? Now all that has ended up like a scrounging note A promise that you had never accomplished! It is too late my dear..... Even the prayer "sustainable " will never save you. Now accept the reality , From Rio to Paris nothing has changed But I have changed a lot..... I have lost almost everything. I will not protect you anymore You will repay for all the atrocities This is not just the curse of your ex, This is the grudge of being unfortunate Only because I was in love with you. Are you still longing for more ? April twenty second will always be cherished The day that has been put aside by you for me, isn't it ? Oops, again I forgot... The day created in my name for you, To fill your annual report sheets . My dear it's time to pay for your sins Before that I bid you goodbye. ©malavikavipin
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Dec 22, 2018
Dec 22, 2018 at 5:39 AM UTC
Earthly Breakup
The following statements of truth were brought to you Not through, but circumnavigating fated parameters Of insane, yet normative, largely uninformative Mechanisms that formally give birth to ******** And instead, strategically splicing said bounds with Ideal variables derived from the courageously quixotic, Unrobotic, and outraged agents of, and for, capital Real: The train of corporate reasoning derails so fast To follow is to snap the head backward, Far past angles within measures of pleasurable fit And open gates to deluging tangled circular Failures of logic that trick and co-opt the proletariat. We are Present-Ambassadors with broken flux-capacitors Demonstrating a consistent tendency toward error In efforts to obtain diplomatic access to a future where The same reemerging deficits do not manifest unfixed. One of said deficits may include all positive freedoms. For the record, it shall be noted that civil society Currently arrives implicitly to find it compliantly fine To promote systems of labor designed to illicit behaviors That will eventually undermine the actors of exhaustive work And make benefactors of those complicit in crime. As case studies of this paradoxical paradigm, we observe Nations signing trade agreements aligned with Selling more of the goods whose extractions have Cataclysmic exactions upon locals contracted not to resist. Those who take issue with this are directed to appellate institutions. The projected scarcity of over-consumed poisons causes fear Which leads to faster hoarding and more ex(t/p)ensive death. Thus, most human behaviors presently inflate pricing, popularity, And rapidity associated with committing system-wide suicide. As shackle-some power consolidation bends toward a transnational peak I hereby slide-tackle these forwarded trends, seeking goals of the rational.
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Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 4:16 PM UTC
For Consideration
The following statements of truth were brought to you Not through, but circumnavigating fated parameters Of insane, yet normative, largely uninformative Mechanisms that formally give birth to ******** And instead, strategically splicing said bounds with Ideal variables derived from the courageously quixotic, Unrobotic, and outraged agents of, and for, capital Real: The train of corporate reasoning derails so fast To follow is to snap the head backward, Far past angles within measures of pleasurable fit And open gates to deluging tangled circular Failures of logic that trick and co-opt the proletariat. We are Present-Ambassadors with broken flux-capacitors Demonstrating a consistent tendency toward error In efforts to obtain diplomatic access to a future where The same reemerging deficits do not manifest unfixed. One of said deficits may include all positive freedoms. For the record, it shall be noted that civil society Currently arrives implicitly to find it compliantly fine To promote systems of labor designed to illicit behaviors That will eventually undermine the actors of exhaustive work And make benefactors of those complicit in crime. As case studies of this paradoxical paradigm, we observe Nations signing trade agreements aligned with Selling more of the goods whose extractions have Cataclysmic exactions upon locals contracted not to resist. Those who take issue with this are directed to appellate institutions. The projected scarcity of over-consumed poisons causes fear Which leads to faster hoarding and more ex(t/p)ensive death. Thus, most human behaviors presently inflate pricing, popularity, And rapidity associated with committing system-wide suicide. As shackle-some power consolidation bends toward a transnational peak I hereby slide-tackle these forwarded trends, seeking goals of the rational.
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33
My trajectory But for the lot of Gravity Upon branches as corpuscles divinely drawing The blood work into ORGANS:(n) 1) those unsteady agreements of chemistry warring Seeping into the lea of each moment We wince As sunlight finds its way in
0
Jul 30, 2018
Jul 30, 2018 at 10:26 AM UTC
3875.3
how abstract are the problems of whiteness? socialist meeting whiteness is socialism gone wrong in itself look it up its secret agreements that are no secret anymore the contracts of whiteness modified in America whiteness is a conspiracy on humanity whiteness is a conspiracy theory to be white is to conspire to deny that it itself is capitalism socially constructing a world that cannot reflect the fact that it is conspiring against others in every associated breath conspiring and justifying by thinking others are conspiring against it it was the first agitator the first conspiracy in America was whiteness slavery would not be possible if whiteness did not conspire to **** to teach killing to educate conspiracy to teach how to call **** something else enforce a system to justify its theory a system to justify it is a theory but thats all it ever was a bad theory and while whiteness has been conspiring the others have been human beings trying to teach whiteness the way out that is what understanding black history is the black experience is the way for whiteness to regain its humanity to stop this dangerous conspiracy theory that studies every other field of study and society keeps begging exposing where focus needs to be stop conspiring whiteness please and stop calling it capitalism
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Jul 20, 2016
Jul 20, 2016 at 7:00 PM UTC
be polite and stop calling it capitalism
Binding agreements empty promises from birth put into a system without choice those who ask questions are shunned those who give the answers are praised those who break their shackles No one knows. ~a work in progress
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Jun 24, 2013
Jun 24, 2013 at 1:14 PM UTC
Shackles
The crime families had arrived long before our time dressed in suits and ties jeans and lies. Con games transparent, No one's even too embarrassed or even bothers to try and hide it. It's all a racket better believe it Student loans Insurance Medications to save your life Credit cards House payments Rental agreements The military industrial complex the war machine The grocery store The grocery store The Supermarket what do you mean you gotta eat at least the poisoned air is free. Elections thrilled with bribery The gas station cell phone bills electrical payments moving violation tickets Banks with smiling faces Bound to get you on your knees begging for more. Guess what? What ever you think you are craving, You know that's a racket too every time you turn around they're going to take their vig off of you. When you get to heaven you are going to find one fact for sure that's a racket too.
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Apr 18, 2015
Apr 18, 2015 at 10:18 AM UTC
Trick and Trap/The American Rackets
My laptop reads 13% And oddly enough I relate to that It’s a staple of our generation to relate to others obscure references. With agreements such as “same” being used to reference themselves to a cup lying on the side of the road. I don’t quite understand and yet I find myself relating to these obscurities rather frequently. I’m stuck. Truly a dead end of the creative kind. And sincerely it’s been literal months since I’ve created something I’m even mildly okay with. Why? Is it because I’m depressed? Is it because I am empty inside? What can I find to blame my inactiveness on this time? There are so many things I want to do. I want to sing I want to act I want to fall in love I want to make videos I want to lose 30 pounds I want to travel the world. I want to come out to my family I want to die but usually only at night, which is an improvement I want be a lawyer, a doctor, a writer, a zoologist, an actor. There are multitudes of things that I want, enough to fill up all of the oceans. Simultaneously There is one that is noticeably more prominent than others and that is that I want to be happy. And yet here I am it’s 3 am and I’m nothing but empty And even now, more than ever now, I need to have a voice. I don’t want to be heard I need to be. But the words they just don’t come like they used to. How am I supposed to pursue my dreams if I can’t even take a shower? I’m falling. Again. Life is messy. Life is a ******* **** show. I’m trying to make the most of it. And honestly, it’s ******* difficult. I want to write. I say that about every three hours and yet nothing. More than anything, I want to live lives other than my own, Not because of self-hatred but because of my desire to explore and to experience. I want to fall in love with characters who help me to love myself. I want to be more than a 16-year-old typing her life away hoping, praying to live other lives. And just because I don’t know how to get there right now. Doesn’t mean I’m going to stop trying. I want to live for myself, I want to stop apologizing and go for what I want. My laptop reads 2% and as it is powering off so am I. I’m going to sleep in hopes of inspiration striking me while I’m floating between consciousness. It’s unreasonable to ask for. But please. I miss creating. I just want to live. I just want to be happy.
0
Mar 23, 2018
Mar 23, 2018 at 3:54 AM UTC
Thirteen.
My laptop reads 13% And oddly enough I relate to that It’s a staple of our generation to relate to others obscure references. With agreements such as “same” being used to reference themselves to a cup lying on the side of the road. I don’t quite understand and yet I find myself relating to these obscurities rather frequently. I’m stuck. Truly a dead end of the creative kind. And sincerely it’s been literal months since I’ve created something I’m even mildly okay with. Why? Is it because I’m depressed? Is it because I am empty inside? What can I find to blame my inactiveness on this time? There are so many things I want to do. I want to sing I want to act I want to fall in love I want to make videos I want to lose 30 pounds I want to travel the world. I want to come out to my family I want to die but usually only at night, which is an improvement I want be a lawyer, a doctor, a writer, a zoologist, an actor. There are multitudes of things that I want, enough to fill up all of the oceans. Simultaneously There is one that is noticeably more prominent than others and that is that I want to be happy. And yet here I am it’s 3 am and I’m nothing but empty And even now, more than ever now, I need to have a voice. I don’t want to be heard I need to be. But the words they just don’t come like they used to. How am I supposed to pursue my dreams if I can’t even take a shower? I’m falling. Again. Life is messy. Life is a ******* **** show. I’m trying to make the most of it. And honestly, it’s ******* difficult. I want to write. I say that about every three hours and yet nothing. More than anything, I want to live lives other than my own, Not because of self-hatred but because of my desire to explore and to experience. I want to fall in love with characters who help me to love myself. I want to be more than a 16-year-old typing her life away hoping, praying to live other lives. And just because I don’t know how to get there right now. Doesn’t mean I’m going to stop trying. I want to live for myself, I want to stop apologizing and go for what I want. My laptop reads 2% and as it is powering off so am I. I’m going to sleep in hopes of inspiration striking me while I’m floating between consciousness. It’s unreasonable to ask for. But please. I miss creating. I just want to live. I just want to be happy.
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44
(In Memory of Miss Araceli M. Katigbak, TMA’s Miss Grammar) You taught us to talk and write head up high in a tongue to foster, that is not our mother The scroll of rules and the roster of exceptions you’ve mastered and you made us master, patiently you nurtured the timid buds diligently you challenged us daily, and your voice still reverberates – Correct practice makes perfect! Beyond subject-predicate agreements Your treasured grammar lessons taught the young at heart, the malleable minds: Every man or every woman is but Men or women are, regardless or irrespective of beginnings, required to know: 1. There are rules to be followed. - and we expanded this to our lives, and not just our paragraphs and sentences 2. There are exceptions to be considered. - and you indirectly taught us, to recognize differences and that difficulties of the English language are just like people’s frailties and our friends’ idiosyncracies 3. Mastering grammar is good but honesty is the best! And thus, your lessons most precious are far above your prim and proper dress and shoes and your gospels of correct usage, syntax and other linguistic gems delivered good citizenship and how-to-be-a-good-friend items. The Good English we learned are words to live by You’ve given us treasures no money can buy.
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Jan 25, 2019
Jan 25, 2019 at 10:07 AM UTC
Beyond Grammar
I don't want to listen to your ******** today 'Cos you never really have anything good to say Empathy is dying away Free to judge and to abdicate You’re just hiding behind cruel words That wont ever get you anywhere Every one is walking around at night Trying to find their own piece of sunlight Shady figures roaming the alley way Just trying to survive the day Always under constant judgment By people who don't know them All the agreements you've made To everything that they've said Have seem to found a way Deep inside To brake the pride you once held on to Don't include me in your bitter battle Of Politic, gender, religion and orientation ‘Cos I’m getting a headache Just trying to fix my mistakes It really is a shame When humans act inhumane https://spencercarlson.bandcamp.com/track/bitter-battles
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Jan 27, 2015
Jan 27, 2015 at 9:40 PM UTC
Bitter Battles
That burn in the back of the throat isn't real. It's an after effect. A side bar. Psychosomatic. Problematic. Symptomatic. Crippled in sentiment and misunderstanding. Viscously bleeding from the mind in colors. How lost to have gone and wandered there. Clearly now in repose, there was no "them" to save at all. Only him and his strangled mostly dying agreements with the sun. That remain standing between the here and now in need of repair.
0
Sep 30, 2010
Sep 30, 2010 at 8:05 PM UTC
How Is This Possible?
I would have sneaked In from the pores of a net. I would have wrapped you in a prose Poem that lacks precision and laid you to sleep Under the covers of my bed. Quietly. So if love was to engulf me And a longing rises from my soul I would stretch the fingers of my hand towards you and dabble with the words of the poem, Letter by letter. If I was truly a poet I would have limped to the Lord by now And sat by the foot of his throne And held on to it With both hands And whispered: ‘you are the Greatest, most Beautiful, most Wonderful and Capable, Will you create a lover for me?’ I mean only for me. But I know That my prayer will not be answered Not because it is impossible. More than that really, Since I have never known A man Who has never betrayed his lover. ************************* Translated by Dikra Ridha © Copyright 2016, by Faleeha Hassan. All rights reserved under the Copyright laws of the United States of America and international copyright agreements. No portion of this book maybe reproduced in any form, electronic or otherwise, without written permission from the author. Email: [email protected]
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Apr 15, 2016
Apr 15, 2016 at 1:23 PM UTC
If I were a poet
i have a lot of questions and i dont know what we are i learnt last time agreements not e- nough to make her yours... And you live much more freely than she did in the first place, much less scared, so prospective having you for me is impossible or so i fear... I'm not embarrassed any- more for where we're headed to but something's also broke in that you come more than i do i'm working on the medicines that keep me far from you there's nothing that i want more than domestic life together, and soon... i've got a lot of fear for taking this step.
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Apr 20, 2024
Apr 20, 2024 at 8:22 PM UTC
poll: should i move in with my gf
Summer loving Ice cream shovings into dripping mouths; a melting cavern, chocolate pools bubbling under tongues suppressing mundane topics let's get a little gay take off my top and lay on top of me **** the chills with your bikini thrills refocus your scope sur moi basket case weaving message receiving southern comfort relieving excavated sediment sentiments circulate agreements perpetuate a consistent blend of froth and forthcomings remember to remember one's habitual shortcomings
0
Jul 15, 2014
Jul 15, 2014 at 8:19 PM UTC
Summertime
Love me like I am no longer broken bones in a working body Find that I am still whole yet divided Forgive me for never loving myself This dream I have still projects itself Knitting the sky together with plea agreements Begging for you to finally see me clearly The rain is gone and we are still here Broken bones heal and I am still alive But know that I am trying Trying to be better than me Working at building a future out of hand grenade pins Pulled from mistakes thrown out of my life
0
Dec 5, 2016
Dec 5, 2016 at 2:57 PM UTC
Work in progess