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"alienates" poems
for autumn's leaves have fallen much too soon and i, without my eyes to see the clear brilliance of the sun, the stars, and moon can still make out what the heavens brought near the warmth of heaven's gift i feel fornenst i hear the sound true emotion does bring my heart, it breaks through its final defense and on the ice first does this new love sing what spell's been wrought to bring me to my knees? what magic has your presence on me cast to turn me from my abhorrence of he to lover's gaze which alienates the past And sooner would I cast myself to flame Then dare confess when you won't feel the same.
0
Jan 30, 2017
Jan 30, 2017 at 1:19 PM UTC
leaves fall
Trembles commence beneath the exterior An eruption blacker than a hollow wails superior All light alienates, Obscured by manifested immorality Only spared by vast vitality Virtuousness defended, Intended to liberate slaved maliciousness Autonomy of the anima was the consequence A union through yielded yin and panged yang existence
0
Sep 20, 2011
Sep 20, 2011 at 8:57 AM UTC
Courageous Dispositions
You know what you must do, Yet you do not do what you must. Is it a lack of motivation, Or procrastination that alienates you from doing what you must? Whatever it is, just do...
0
Nov 16, 2016
Nov 16, 2016 at 10:27 PM UTC
Lack of motivation or procrastination
Who tears apart a family to fix a reputation? Who alienates their child to prove loyalty to a parent? Your irony is painfully amusing. ...The type of pain that rips your stomach from your throat and your breath from your lungs. The type of pain it hurts to  imagine inflicting on any person you hated. And why? To teach a lesson, to prove a point of purity. Your virtual hands are strangling my soul. Let me go, let me die. Let me breathe, let me cry. But I can't cry, cause I can't breathe. I can't breathe so I can't speak. Let me live or let me die,  or at least give me a good reason why.
0
Aug 14, 2014
Aug 14, 2014 at 12:40 PM UTC
One Good Reason
Why did you do it? How do you feel? Okay, but is it the daddy issues? Regret isn't always instant, ya know? Eventually, i will explode. so i'm not what, sorry who, you wanted. maybe even needed. what is the difference. turn me over and get your kicks, did you think it was your eyes i wanted to see when i opened my own? you are nobody. not to me anyways. i wish you had blinded me: maybe i would have felt more. more than the voices. felt the music over your moans - that by the way sounded like you wanted me. felt what it was to be whole, full, content. everyday something feels like it does not belong in me and you were no exception. when you breathed into my neck it was no cold biting breeze but the memory of moments before my dog threw up in my lap - at least he looked apologetic. but i let you take it and now it's yours and that is fine by me but you have this problem where you don't know when to close your mouth and maybe if you had ever put it to use i could forgive you. insult me. please. you don't know how good it feels to have my worthlessness validated by a stranger. someone who doesn't understand my jokes and my biting comments: alienates my tongue and forces it back into hiding. the moment i felt a crack following the path your fingers had once whispered into my skin: i felt home. back to base one. back to being an infant learning how to operate these strange extensions of my body - which brought me back to you, who taught you to use those fingers? i wonder if you can hold a fork, is it crooked? the moment you couldn't peel a tangerine i should have known better. speaking of, i know i do. and i want to say it wasn't what you did or didn't do but there was a lot you skipped over. i can see you're impatient, impolite, even impotent on occasion and i have to ask: how do you support yourself on such shaky arms? i truly didn't think you'd make it through the whole, what was it, 15 (?) minutes. and what did you want? a prize? a pat on the back? for ******** and spewing your loneliness into me? lips too big, neck too long, decision making skills nonexistent, looked like your last girlfriend - did I miss anything else that was wrong? did my catholicism make it better? did that help you mount the white steed, you were no prince charming and the dragon was better company. did it hurt me, to be rejected that is, only about as much ***** as it took to laugh about it. does it haunt me? like every mistake i have ever made: but it's no big deal, you're bottom of the pile. that should please you, you couldn't hold yourself on top anyways.
0
Feb 9, 2017
Feb 9, 2017 at 1:11 AM UTC
Keep It
Why did you do it? How do you feel? Okay, but is it the daddy issues? Regret isn't always instant, ya know? Eventually, i will explode. so i'm not what, sorry who, you wanted. maybe even needed. what is the difference. turn me over and get your kicks, did you think it was your eyes i wanted to see when i opened my own? you are nobody. not to me anyways. i wish you had blinded me: maybe i would have felt more. more than the voices. felt the music over your moans - that by the way sounded like you wanted me. felt what it was to be whole, full, content. everyday something feels like it does not belong in me and you were no exception. when you breathed into my neck it was no cold biting breeze but the memory of moments before my dog threw up in my lap - at least he looked apologetic. but i let you take it and now it's yours and that is fine by me but you have this problem where you don't know when to close your mouth and maybe if you had ever put it to use i could forgive you. insult me. please. you don't know how good it feels to have my worthlessness validated by a stranger. someone who doesn't understand my jokes and my biting comments: alienates my tongue and forces it back into hiding. the moment i felt a crack following the path your fingers had once whispered into my skin: i felt home. back to base one. back to being an infant learning how to operate these strange extensions of my body - which brought me back to you, who taught you to use those fingers? i wonder if you can hold a fork, is it crooked? the moment you couldn't peel a tangerine i should have known better. speaking of, i know i do. and i want to say it wasn't what you did or didn't do but there was a lot you skipped over. i can see you're impatient, impolite, even impotent on occasion and i have to ask: how do you support yourself on such shaky arms? i truly didn't think you'd make it through the whole, what was it, 15 (?) minutes. and what did you want? a prize? a pat on the back? for ******** and spewing your loneliness into me? lips too big, neck too long, decision making skills nonexistent, looked like your last girlfriend - did I miss anything else that was wrong? did my catholicism make it better? did that help you mount the white steed, you were no prince charming and the dragon was better company. did it hurt me, to be rejected that is, only about as much ***** as it took to laugh about it. does it haunt me? like every mistake i have ever made: but it's no big deal, you're bottom of the pile. that should please you, you couldn't hold yourself on top anyways.
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6
What if our Species—far away in the past—was actually a race of neanderthals , but then a parasite from a planet inhabited by a race of Intelligent, Enlightened beings came here and has colonized us as meat husks and has failed to build a success. Eventually, we lost our purpose. So we followed the Sun—everything’s first god—our last hope as self-conscious apes who act in lines and indoctrinate all kinds of symmetry as dutifully as that big bright spot in the sky goes from Our east to Our west. We are not jamestown geniuses—we are roanoke—lost in a foreign wilderness, cold and yearning for even a candles’ blink of warmth in the dark that surrounds us, alienates us, swallows us.
0
Feb 10, 2019
Feb 10, 2019 at 10:29 AM UTC
Roanoke
I wonder, sometimes, why it is a fact, A gifted, handsome man should be alone. My iambic pentameter’s intact, And yet I tend to lyric on my own. Alliteration alienates romance. The ladies scorn my struggle with cliché They scoff, then aggravated, wring their hands. Yet still I need to couplet every day. I’m thinking as I sit beside my date, “I’ll syllable you soon if I am able.” At times my meter renders me irate. It’s difficult to rhythm at the table. “Another cup?” I search her face for clues. She looks a little bored. It can’t be me. I pass the menu for her to peruse. “Why don’t you try a blended Chinese tea?” I’m formulating ditties as she speaks. “I think I’d like to go. I’m rather hot.” “Do stay. I’ve ordered brussels sprouts and leeks.” Her grimace indicates she’d rather not. I wonder if I’ve aimed a little low. Her diction leaves a lot to be desired. I’d like to teach her how to ebb and flow, But ‘clueless’ leaves me, frankly, uninspired. She fidgets nervously and looks away. I wonder if the woman is a freak. “I hope you’re not illiterate,” I say. I may have been a little indescrete. My fears were justified, she’s never heard Enjambment quite like mine in all her days. She slaps my face and tells me I’m absurd, Then dumps me in a non-poetic daze. I could have blessed her with a monologue; Enthralled her with the kernel of my quill; enchanted her with dazzling dialogue, If only she’d have stayed to pay the bill. Now woe is me. I’m lost and incomplete. Lamenting my position; full of doubts. Deliberating how a man can eat A double share of leeks and brussels sprouts.
0
Jan 29, 2016
Jan 29, 2016 at 4:05 PM UTC
Man Musing
I wonder, sometimes, why it is a fact, A gifted, handsome man should be alone. My iambic pentameter’s intact, And yet I tend to lyric on my own. Alliteration alienates romance. The ladies scorn my struggle with cliché They scoff, then aggravated, wring their hands. Yet still I need to couplet every day. I’m thinking as I sit beside my date, “I’ll syllable you soon if I am able.” At times my meter renders me irate. It’s difficult to rhythm at the table. “Another cup?” I search her face for clues. She looks a little bored. It can’t be me. I pass the menu for her to peruse. “Why don’t you try a blended Chinese tea?” I’m formulating ditties as she speaks. “I think I’d like to go. I’m rather hot.” “Do stay. I’ve ordered brussels sprouts and leeks.” Her grimace indicates she’d rather not. I wonder if I’ve aimed a little low. Her diction leaves a lot to be desired. I’d like to teach her how to ebb and flow, But ‘clueless’ leaves me, frankly, uninspired. She fidgets nervously and looks away. I wonder if the woman is a freak. “I hope you’re not illiterate,” I say. I may have been a little indescrete. My fears were justified, she’s never heard Enjambment quite like mine in all her days. She slaps my face and tells me I’m absurd, Then dumps me in a non-poetic daze. I could have blessed her with a monologue; Enthralled her with the kernel of my quill; enchanted her with dazzling dialogue, If only she’d have stayed to pay the bill. Now woe is me. I’m lost and incomplete. Lamenting my position; full of doubts. Deliberating how a man can eat A double share of leeks and brussels sprouts.
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40
He could have walked away, For there were many a reason to do so; But he never did; He was there through the highs and lows. I gave him many a reason To walk away for good; And yet he stayed beside me While I was in his neighbourhood. There were panic attacks, crying, Semi madness, paranoia; All the usual consequences of Being assaulted a year earlier. There were so many times I expected him to be gone; I warned him in fact that - I’m not worthy – my people are gone! There is no need to put up with me, Its not good for your health; I’m used to people disappearing, I’ll deal with things myself. For I am being punished, It’s how its meant to be; At least for those of us assaulted ....in the middle of the sea. But of course he didnt understand, He’s from a different culture; He wasn’t afraid to hold my hand And protect me from the torture. He has probably never met anyone As mad and unstable as me; Coming to stay in Soweto And feeling so totally free. He saw my love of Soweto, For the children, the people, and more; He spent so much time exploring his home with me – He’d learnt which combi to get door to door! When I had to get to clinics, Not just one, two, three, or four (!) He spent two days right there with me As we waited hours to reach the door. He didnt have to do that, He has work to do back home; Yet even when I shouted at him – He never left me alone. Of course I apologised later, Tried to help him understand; That my brain does its own thing, Yet he was still there to hold my hand. He never once walked away, And thats when it occurred to me; What a complete cultural contrast ....to our “people of the sea”... My “family” are now Sowetans, Although i’ve known that for a while; When the clinics registered me as an “African” All I did was smile. Of all the times I thought i’d given A reason for him to abandon me, There was one in particular – Where he’d be fully justified to flee. To protect yourself i’d understand, You may need to walk away; And yet he didnt – he put himself at risk ...to protect me, I have to say.... It’s not an easy place to live, He could have walked away; I’m forever grateful for his bravery And that he didnt walk away. For a place where for so long, Segregation was the norm, It has come such a very long way – Since the day I was born. My culture, mixed as it is Has not suffered in this way; Instead it shuns and alienates people ....if they “dont obey”.... Well done South Africa, Though the problems you face are not gone; You could teach a lot to “my people”.. ..a culture that needs to be re- born.
0
Aug 8, 2018
Aug 8, 2018 at 6:58 PM UTC
He Never Walked Away
He could have walked away, For there were many a reason to do so; But he never did; He was there through the highs and lows. I gave him many a reason To walk away for good; And yet he stayed beside me While I was in his neighbourhood. There were panic attacks, crying, Semi madness, paranoia; All the usual consequences of Being assaulted a year earlier. There were so many times I expected him to be gone; I warned him in fact that - I’m not worthy – my people are gone! There is no need to put up with me, Its not good for your health; I’m used to people disappearing, I’ll deal with things myself. For I am being punished, It’s how its meant to be; At least for those of us assaulted ....in the middle of the sea. But of course he didnt understand, He’s from a different culture; He wasn’t afraid to hold my hand And protect me from the torture. He has probably never met anyone As mad and unstable as me; Coming to stay in Soweto And feeling so totally free. He saw my love of Soweto, For the children, the people, and more; He spent so much time exploring his home with me – He’d learnt which combi to get door to door! When I had to get to clinics, Not just one, two, three, or four (!) He spent two days right there with me As we waited hours to reach the door. He didnt have to do that, He has work to do back home; Yet even when I shouted at him – He never left me alone. Of course I apologised later, Tried to help him understand; That my brain does its own thing, Yet he was still there to hold my hand. He never once walked away, And thats when it occurred to me; What a complete cultural contrast ....to our “people of the sea”... My “family” are now Sowetans, Although i’ve known that for a while; When the clinics registered me as an “African” All I did was smile. Of all the times I thought i’d given A reason for him to abandon me, There was one in particular – Where he’d be fully justified to flee. To protect yourself i’d understand, You may need to walk away; And yet he didnt – he put himself at risk ...to protect me, I have to say.... It’s not an easy place to live, He could have walked away; I’m forever grateful for his bravery And that he didnt walk away. For a place where for so long, Segregation was the norm, It has come such a very long way – Since the day I was born. My culture, mixed as it is Has not suffered in this way; Instead it shuns and alienates people ....if they “dont obey”.... Well done South Africa, Though the problems you face are not gone; You could teach a lot to “my people”.. ..a culture that needs to be re- born.
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80
buckle to the times The young man finds a long chapter ended, awaits another Knowing the wind blasts aught of charity Ennui cavorts random and alienates the helper Many trapped in posts akin to sinking, heavy blocks Till one dash of black wave must destroy the stagnant water pool. bye, little bird Wish well her of shy mind on this strange and hasty trip To impress a panel to make an odyssey out of learning Suture memory with anticipated creme de menthes And liars fall flat, who faltered never 'fessed Upon big, iron wing you fly--bye, little bird. hard Like a Dutch fan with the top of russet, critic to the hug She comes from so far to meet the southern sky A little late, but always arriving in white: trio on the green Sturdy bedrock steadfast in the spiraling crash; salt on lips In the clasp of beach blues, the sun shines hard. Grownup offspring do move on, slips of life Some attend not rushed meteors; start living.
0
Jan 25, 2015
Jan 25, 2015 at 12:01 PM UTC
In the clasp of beach blues
Poetry bother me, late night, late in the day , does not matter! .It Is a desire to ***** a new world, a new thing that makes me crazy, Chases in bed , rips the mattress , I steal the covers, I hijacks the pajamas. .all Day bother me, everyday, all the time, does not matter! .A Poetry ****** me off all the time, robs me the second , the minutes , the entire clock. **** with my calm , bare my soul , accentuates my anger and stone me , .me Turns inside out , disrespects me , me frightens , ***** me , .She Takes me and you receive me as anecdote, Sometimes you love me and sometimes I hate me . Poetry completes me , But never satisfy me . So addiction me this drug me anesthesia , .They Treat me like a ***** And ***** me mercilessly , smells all my powder and leave me in bed , alone. .Me Separates , Alienates me , Enslaves me , I still buries in life. .Make me to be Another toy, poetry that complete me , But never satisfies .
0
Jul 22, 2016
Jul 22, 2016 at 9:57 AM UTC
Poetry
He’s a huckster yessiree With water wine and steaks ya see A president he’ll never be That’s not in his destiny But he can polish up his brand And talk about his size of hand To try to make you understand He’ll whip it out if you demand Some call it politics I call it bricks and sticks With lots of ***** tricks And undereducated hicks An egotistical maniac That’s who he is as a matter of fact And it doesn’t matter how he acts Toward Mexicans as well as blacks Or the Syrians he won’t let in Now he can spit in the public’s eye The normal rules don’t seem to apply But death is something he can’t defy Some call it politics I call it bricks and sticks With lots of ***** tricks And undereducated hicks A prevaricator and charlatan And he’s far from the average man He’d try to have you understand Why he advocates a Muslim ban He alienates almost everyone Besides the thousands who come To his rallies are they dumb Or have affinity for a stumble *** Some call it politics I call it bricks and sticks With lots of ***** tricks And undereducated hicks Give him credit he tries hard Despite the fact that he’s so flawed To enter partnership with God And get the masses to applaud He’s no genius as he pretends He has too many loose ends And fewer real true friends Outside of bonds with dividends Some call it politics I call it bricks and sticks With lots of ***** tricks And undereducated hicks Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2016. All rights reserved.
0
Mar 9, 2016
Mar 9, 2016 at 6:52 AM UTC
A HUCKSTER YESSIREE!
He’s a huckster yessiree With water wine and steaks ya see A president he’ll never be That’s not in his destiny But he can polish up his brand And talk about his size of hand To try to make you understand He’ll whip it out if you demand Some call it politics I call it bricks and sticks With lots of ***** tricks And undereducated hicks An egotistical maniac That’s who he is as a matter of fact And it doesn’t matter how he acts Toward Mexicans as well as blacks Or the Syrians he won’t let in Now he can spit in the public’s eye The normal rules don’t seem to apply But death is something he can’t defy Some call it politics I call it bricks and sticks With lots of ***** tricks And undereducated hicks A prevaricator and charlatan And he’s far from the average man He’d try to have you understand Why he advocates a Muslim ban He alienates almost everyone Besides the thousands who come To his rallies are they dumb Or have affinity for a stumble *** Some call it politics I call it bricks and sticks With lots of ***** tricks And undereducated hicks Give him credit he tries hard Despite the fact that he’s so flawed To enter partnership with God And get the masses to applaud He’s no genius as he pretends He has too many loose ends And fewer real true friends Outside of bonds with dividends Some call it politics I call it bricks and sticks With lots of ***** tricks And undereducated hicks Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2016. All rights reserved.
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49
By: Cedric McClester For the good of the party They need to reassess Who’s holding the trump card In case they haven’t guessed The party of Lincoln and Reagan Has become so much less But who is nominated ultimately Will be the final test For the good of the party They need to disavow The frontrunner’s shenanigans They need to do it now The whole world is listening And watching his offensive style He alienates everyone We’ve known it for a while For the good of the party They  need to call a halt By rejecting everything he says Succinctly his gestalt If he’s perceived as a racist It’s totally his fault The whole world’s sensibility Has come under his assault For the good of the party They cannot let him claim That he’s truly one of them Because he’s not the same He is so objectionable That the word I used is tame But when we get right down to it The party must share the blame Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2016.  All rights reserved.
0
Jun 21, 2016
Jun 21, 2016 at 11:37 PM UTC
FOR THE GOOD OF THE PARTY
Things Change Because a rep in the BPO becomes a supervisor then manager This doesn’t give them the right to belittle other support and reps Especially bullying and using bad words or snide comments This upsets agents and makes them feel bad and perform worse Plus it alienates them from the support and makes them look bad In front of the entire team and often call centre which is bad Respect lost in a minute often never to return or returning forced Call centres are hire and fire them with egotistical bosses Reps soon learn not to care less and hop to other centres Brian saw this and experienced it putting his experiences down So others can read learn understand call centre work It’s not all bad but nor is it perfect and there’s much to say Like any other industry there are good and bad points Only by speaking out and education will things change
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Aug 20, 2024
Aug 20, 2024 at 12:48 AM UTC
Things Change
By: Cedric McClester Another protester Is on deck As the speaker Sprouts familiar rhetoric He’s not appealing to The crowd’s intellect He’s provoking them I would suspect And he’s selling them His impossible dream And the more he promises The more it seems They become undone At the seams As he wraps up His time-worn themes He’s gonna make America Great again Hear his dog whistle Calling all white men Who’d like to relive The past again And if they can’t relive it They’d just as soon pretend Now he doesn’t mind Who he alienates He plays the dozens And he hates Insults opponents At debates And when he’s trapped He puts on skates Cedric McClester, Copyright (c) 2016.  All rights reserved.
0
Mar 14, 2016
Mar 14, 2016 at 12:33 PM UTC
HIS IMPOSSIBLE DREAM
Politicians, when questioned, who begin their answer with “So”... Those who waffle when questioned and yet they clearly don’t know. Juggling “ums”, “erms” and “aahs” when struggling to avoid the truth. It alienates, infuriates and generally makes those interviewed sound unprepared, uninformed, dense, almost uncouth. But that doesn’t stop them! The nation’s thirst for updates demands Government be contrite. Approaching difficult situations, yeh - but ours, dropping ******** left & right. It means an address from a hapless minister almost every night. Each department must have top aides quaking in their boots because the media correspondents, incisive, sharp, erudite and firm shoot tricky questions, deliberately, to make the politicos squirm. It shines a light on what the country needs... clear thinking, logic common sense, honesty, truth, stealth and less guille. Not subterfuge, not **** covering,“let’s dodge the bullet” style. Certainly not ten grand extra for having to work from home. But sharper more contrition, put yourself in our place for a while! We want to be reassured, buoyed up, not consumed with bile. You get more support and sympathy if you just tell the truth!
0
Apr 21, 2020
Apr 21, 2020 at 12:31 PM UTC
So...Ermm, Ahh, Well...Umm - Err...!!