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"alliances" poems
(To my sisters and brother) I will always miss … Our sunset ending quarrels Our never-ending teases Christmas’ shared carols Warm hugs Through sweet gazes The sarcastic smiling faces The growing-up races Revenge taking chases Greed over goodies to be hidden In unpredictable places And I will always miss … Competitions and crazy bets Singing hilarious duets Of made-up songs in the shower This innocence Of our childish humor Screamed from a room to another That art of tricking eachother To cleverly stay in control Or wrestling over the remote control And I will always miss … Decades of shared history Amplified joy and divided misery Bursts of laughter on old tapes Creatively imagined games Of whirlpools in drapes And goalkeeper leaps Random costume parties Daily role-play stories Sega sagas from dusk to dawn Alliances and conspiracies Sisters, my lovely sisters Wise, you have become Loving wives, caring mothers Soon, you will become Make sure your kids relive What we used to live Their uncle will make you proud Just like you fill him with pride Brother, dear brother I secretly looked up to you As I grew older I kept resembling you It doesn’t matter If you’re a little far Brotherhood’s a matter Of unbreakable bond And I will always admire, respect, love and cherish … Every single one of you
0
Nov 21, 2013
Nov 21, 2013 at 12:06 PM UTC
Innate Blessings
once in my sanctuary it came in a loud gallop followed by a wallop my sorrowful lumbar detaching the fear of a clumsy blunder shifted away from the law of physics   an emptied vessel unmoved like a sealed vacuum certain a final curtain pin drop in code of silence light time alliances whooshing me into ethereal plains a sublime hemisphere of infinitesimal space, time an indescribable beyond gentle breezes feathery light teases soon a star-gazing eyes darted through a zero gravity galaxy of an endless empyrean expanse a’turnin spherical sight orange white stripes rosely red spot churning roiling clouds speckled dusty rings what beauteous it shrouds why am I here a knowing voice appeared melodically close but I can only behold afar of an ethereally existential interstellar manifold questioning mind told of convoluted ways as seen and heard the rhymes and seasons but for one and the only reason mankind's whisper'd words entrance to the portal as did my dawned immortal   met a peaceful assembly I lay in days, this rapturous gifts what divine effulgence of a truly cosmic lift
0
Jul 14, 2018
Jul 14, 2018 at 10:24 AM UTC
Astral-Ordinary
Upper East Side The Hamptons Aspen, Colorado The plastic people Follow each other Moving in herds Like cattle to the Slaughter Drifting Floating Shifting focus From one charity event To another Whatever’s trendy Whatever’s fashionable Whatever’s happ’ning Whatever’s the need Tainted new artists Society’s rejects The film-maker who fits in with The flavor of the month The disease or the cause That captures the moment Stigmas overlooked Deformities relieved By one hyper exertion By one pseudo good deed Changing bedrooms Changing partners New alliances Noblesse oblige Mrs. Astor’s Four hundred Reinvented forever Reinvented with fervor On the edge Of hypocrisy Keeping up with the Jones’s Maintaining the houses Paris, Rome, Cote du Jura Malibu, Palm Beach Couture fashion Madison, Rodeo Worth avenues united Avenues of the liege Location, location, location The right address unspoken Dinner in the right places Sporting events to be seen Three martini luncheons Halcion evenings Business is business Where money’s retrieved Look to plastic people For fashionable guidance No matter the moment No matter the need Remember to catch them While jetting to Santa Barbara Saint Maarten, San Troupe San Marco, warp speed They live in their milieu Can’t function outside it Can’t follow a shadow That others believe It’s easy to find them They leave behind footprints But barely a mem’ry Or singular creed Other than finding The latest in fashion The latest persona Or new plastic breed
0
Aug 8, 2018
Aug 8, 2018 at 8:19 AM UTC
Plastic People
Upper East Side The Hamptons Aspen, Colorado The plastic people Follow each other Moving in herds Like cattle to the Slaughter Drifting Floating Shifting focus From one charity event To another Whatever’s trendy Whatever’s fashionable Whatever’s happ’ning Whatever’s the need Tainted new artists Society’s rejects The film-maker who fits in with The flavor of the month The disease or the cause That captures the moment Stigmas overlooked Deformities relieved By one hyper exertion By one pseudo good deed Changing bedrooms Changing partners New alliances Noblesse oblige Mrs. Astor’s Four hundred Reinvented forever Reinvented with fervor On the edge Of hypocrisy Keeping up with the Jones’s Maintaining the houses Paris, Rome, Cote du Jura Malibu, Palm Beach Couture fashion Madison, Rodeo Worth avenues united Avenues of the liege Location, location, location The right address unspoken Dinner in the right places Sporting events to be seen Three martini luncheons Halcion evenings Business is business Where money’s retrieved Look to plastic people For fashionable guidance No matter the moment No matter the need Remember to catch them While jetting to Santa Barbara Saint Maarten, San Troupe San Marco, warp speed They live in their milieu Can’t function outside it Can’t follow a shadow That others believe It’s easy to find them They leave behind footprints But barely a mem’ry Or singular creed Other than finding The latest in fashion The latest persona Or new plastic breed
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73
Allies become foes and friends turn away Loyalties are questioned, only the honorable stay And so begins the fight, to claim the right of power While a child claims the crown, sitting atop his lofty tower The Stag is said to rule the seven, but all is not what it may seem The Lion fights the Wolf, while the Dragons ready their queen The kingdom will bathe in blood, and it is under the light of the moon That alliances are broken, or saved from the brink of ruin “For the night is dark, and full of terrors” These new gods shake faith in the old with tremors Winter is coming, it can be felt in the bones But before it reaches, who will win this Game of Thrones?
0
Apr 18, 2014
Apr 18, 2014 at 8:47 PM UTC
This Game Of Thrones
.*oh forget Disney H'america... technicolor H'america was the bomb... gentlemen prefer blondes... oh **** no... the seven year itch... the Rachmaninoff scene... bell, book & candle scene... whoever the genius was behind the technicolor project, outmatched the Disney in 1950s H'america... little town America... big little ******** worth of Europe... eddi reader...more like: keep the cats, a woman may desire luxury, but a man a freedom... keep the town, the summit, the fireplace... keep your luxury... just give me the shadow, the sun, the moon, and the road: perpetually greeting me.* oh forget looking for scapegoats these days... full blown schizophrenia, happening, all over the anglophone world... me? i'm just looking at the lampoons... sorry... lemmings... and the English? top the table in western world... they thought they'd be bailed out by the H'americans... good luck rolling that pin-ball... not gonna happen... they have their own **** to deal with...    it could have... but now it will never work out, no anglophone alliance bail-out plan... it's a ******* farce... it's a bogus in the bogie in the ******* coalmine... forget the canary...    **** i'm seriously flipping the coin on phrases... FDR contra DJT?   magic! no... the politicians were always going to place the card... the joker... free-fall dance-loose feet...          my bet is... it'll fall flat on its face... the eastern European Achilles heel of the europhiles... that's a supposition, not a proposition...                      or thereby, pre-.... but i do love being a spectator of rare sport... en masse schizophrenia... a nation, divided...              what a load of ******** the English thought that their anglophone alliances would last, would encrust them in a new globalization mechanism... even the ******* Icelandic people think they're European... what did the English think? just east of Las Vegas?!            an island surrounded by a massive prehistorical lake "facility"?! no one is looking for scapegoats these days, there's no one to blame... mea culpa, mea culpa...     these days?! everyone is looking for the lampoon brigade! - and let me tell you... mea culpa mea culpa... no one is looking for a scapegoat worth kristallnacht; people are looking for a lampoon...      or...         karmesinrotherznacht, the night of... broken hearts; broken, crimson hearts.
0
Oct 22, 2018
Oct 22, 2018 at 6:54 PM UTC
FDR contra DJT times
.*oh forget Disney H'america... technicolor H'america was the bomb... gentlemen prefer blondes... oh **** no... the seven year itch... the Rachmaninoff scene... bell, book & candle scene... whoever the genius was behind the technicolor project, outmatched the Disney in 1950s H'america... little town America... big little ******** worth of Europe... eddi reader...more like: keep the cats, a woman may desire luxury, but a man a freedom... keep the town, the summit, the fireplace... keep your luxury... just give me the shadow, the sun, the moon, and the road: perpetually greeting me.* oh forget looking for scapegoats these days... full blown schizophrenia, happening, all over the anglophone world... me? i'm just looking at the lampoons... sorry... lemmings... and the English? top the table in western world... they thought they'd be bailed out by the H'americans... good luck rolling that pin-ball... not gonna happen... they have their own **** to deal with...    it could have... but now it will never work out, no anglophone alliance bail-out plan... it's a ******* farce... it's a bogus in the bogie in the ******* coalmine... forget the canary...    **** i'm seriously flipping the coin on phrases... FDR contra DJT?   magic! no... the politicians were always going to place the card... the joker... free-fall dance-loose feet...          my bet is... it'll fall flat on its face... the eastern European Achilles heel of the europhiles... that's a supposition, not a proposition...                      or thereby, pre-.... but i do love being a spectator of rare sport... en masse schizophrenia... a nation, divided...              what a load of ******** the English thought that their anglophone alliances would last, would encrust them in a new globalization mechanism... even the ******* Icelandic people think they're European... what did the English think? just east of Las Vegas?!            an island surrounded by a massive prehistorical lake "facility"?! no one is looking for scapegoats these days, there's no one to blame... mea culpa, mea culpa...     these days?! everyone is looking for the lampoon brigade! - and let me tell you... mea culpa mea culpa... no one is looking for a scapegoat worth kristallnacht; people are looking for a lampoon...      or...         karmesinrotherznacht, the night of... broken hearts; broken, crimson hearts.
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80
the tired beer talks the tired black nights the faces of people of family or friends the **** behind the car the fires where all you can see is eyes the empty cans the shoeless feet the people talking to people the relationships and the alliances on concrete patios in the woods near lakes or out in the deserts we are there listening to grasshoppers play their sad songs who sometimes get so loud that we yell at each other and laugh at the top of our lungs trying to fill up the black night and remind those bugs we’re not dead yet
0
Mar 24, 2011
Mar 24, 2011 at 11:42 AM UTC
grasshoppers chirp
Mirrored silver tag me blue reflective sky widgeon, merganser blithely sail broken ripples foretelling storm raucous cawing crows assemble anxious ducks explode airborne duly warned silent drone fateful wraith Eagle glides over the settling surface razor eyes seeking the meek the weak fleeing flock coalesces white bellies exposed to the sun banking hard return to serenity certain death deferred in nature alliances are clear predator prey vigilantly warning relentlessly defending Shrieking crow-beleaguered Eagle retreats no match for those united against him
0
Feb 6, 2017
Feb 6, 2017 at 9:43 AM UTC
Flock
The question, within its very core nature .. almost solely hinges around our own deeply hidden, internal self-betrayal: In the creatively-covered up alliances we make.. In order to prop up, the parts of us that refuse to respond in any growing, self-sacrificing way, that would lead to the true growth of change. And so.. within our own, internally/externally-manufactured, form of consent, comes a smile-washed, deep contempt for anything, and everything that would (or could) expose Just how deeply we have sold ourselves out through the ultra-fine art, of alliance. And like a lamb to the slaughter are those who choose to unknowingly (or with agenda-based blinders) Love, defend, and support those who use such an alliance to prop themselves up, from falling over. But the Universe.. within its deep ache for us-- It never stops asking of us the Primal question We can respond through the suffering of the self (leading to true growth and change) Or make alliance with Death as a way of short-cutting the answer. #
0
Apr 15, 2022
Apr 15, 2022 at 1:22 PM UTC
alliance
oh i can tell you why Brexit happened... apparently in light of the European i was not European enough, a mongrel, a ******* Mongol... eastern Europeans are Mongols, mind you...                 i'm pretty sure the Brexit vote happened... because the A8 joined...         when the Eatern European joined the old post-colonial powers... plenty of Pakistanis...      do i mind? do i ******* care?! i don't care... you deal with: the minding!     no...   i have an inheritance tax without any ceremonial                                 past... your **** is your ******* **** plus the Arab, and the curry... **** off!             i'm no ******* *vierte ***** pussy-whip... you ******* yo-yo oreo!         mind you? put me down on this one... i hate the Poles... i ******* hate the Poles...    what they did to the Chernobyl me? i hate the Polacks...     don't like them...                i'd rather spit than talk to them...    i've learned my lesson...                     i hate them more than the Germans, or the Russians... i hate them with the sort of hatred reserved for               patriots...   Judas Priests...    i abhor the ****** catholicism... it makes me... cringe...                 then i think: thickens the thong - better than the Islamic crap to mind making a boot... Brexit only happened because of the supposed invasion of the A8...    the Pakistani mobile gave off a jitter - somehow the "excess" Europeans migrated...               whites combined with whites... Europeans mingled... big problem for the Pakistanis... Brexit only happened because "eastern" Europe joined the *vierte *****   well... "joined"...       some of us had enough sense as to keep the currency...   ******* Pakistani bullshitters...   what?! i thought English girls loved being gang-rape-fucked?!   no?!    my bad...                 the joining of the A8 disrupted the presence of Britain in the EU...          thumbs up on the curry-sauce... thumbs down on the Baltic sauerkraut.... guess what?!                           **** you! you ******* British Empire bonkers...   relief contra racism with an Empire disintegrating!   wankers...                    sure, beseech alliances outside of Europe...   seek them, find them, govern them...       the next time you come shoveling your **** into my: awareness... i'll be asking... so... Rotherham...           no, not really... don't bother me with that sort of **** you deal with your ******** before shoving your ***** into my mouth expecting me to gargle on the produce...                you're closer to Pakistan than i am to Mongolia... you draw the the postcard... i'll draw the pretty picture. don't get me wrong, thought, i hate the Polacks... i don't belong between them...    i'd prefer to be strapped to a Hydra of homeless dogs... than exercise the humanity of a shared tongue with these... mongrels; mind you... the British are just as bad... when it comes to their, mongrel stature.
0
Sep 17, 2018
Sep 17, 2018 at 6:54 PM UTC
the Mongols are coming! / scenes from Warsaw
oh i can tell you why Brexit happened... apparently in light of the European i was not European enough, a mongrel, a ******* Mongol... eastern Europeans are Mongols, mind you...                 i'm pretty sure the Brexit vote happened... because the A8 joined...         when the Eatern European joined the old post-colonial powers... plenty of Pakistanis...      do i mind? do i ******* care?! i don't care... you deal with: the minding!     no...   i have an inheritance tax without any ceremonial                                 past... your **** is your ******* **** plus the Arab, and the curry... **** off!             i'm no ******* *vierte ***** pussy-whip... you ******* yo-yo oreo!         mind you? put me down on this one... i hate the Poles... i ******* hate the Poles...    what they did to the Chernobyl me? i hate the Polacks...     don't like them...                i'd rather spit than talk to them...    i've learned my lesson...                     i hate them more than the Germans, or the Russians... i hate them with the sort of hatred reserved for               patriots...   Judas Priests...    i abhor the ****** catholicism... it makes me... cringe...                 then i think: thickens the thong - better than the Islamic crap to mind making a boot... Brexit only happened because of the supposed invasion of the A8...    the Pakistani mobile gave off a jitter - somehow the "excess" Europeans migrated...               whites combined with whites... Europeans mingled... big problem for the Pakistanis... Brexit only happened because "eastern" Europe joined the *vierte *****   well... "joined"...       some of us had enough sense as to keep the currency...   ******* Pakistani bullshitters...   what?! i thought English girls loved being gang-rape-fucked?!   no?!    my bad...                 the joining of the A8 disrupted the presence of Britain in the EU...          thumbs up on the curry-sauce... thumbs down on the Baltic sauerkraut.... guess what?!                           **** you! you ******* British Empire bonkers...   relief contra racism with an Empire disintegrating!   wankers...                    sure, beseech alliances outside of Europe...   seek them, find them, govern them...       the next time you come shoveling your **** into my: awareness... i'll be asking... so... Rotherham...           no, not really... don't bother me with that sort of **** you deal with your ******** before shoving your ***** into my mouth expecting me to gargle on the produce...                you're closer to Pakistan than i am to Mongolia... you draw the the postcard... i'll draw the pretty picture. don't get me wrong, thought, i hate the Polacks... i don't belong between them...    i'd prefer to be strapped to a Hydra of homeless dogs... than exercise the humanity of a shared tongue with these... mongrels; mind you... the British are just as bad... when it comes to their, mongrel stature.
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111
It's funny because it's not on me It's funny you get so ruffled It's funny 'cause I'm in no trouble Thanks to public conditioning globally expressed, I just wait, because you'll settle for **** And if I don't change and don't get my way It's okay -- it's all your fault. It's okay -- you're the one in debt And I'm not called to explain my attempts in vain It's all your fault It's funny because it's not on me It's funny how you get so ruffled It's funny 'cause I'm in no trouble Except for the threat of death Except for losing X amount of friends Except for lack of alliances In any defense clickclickclickclickclickclickclickclickclick
0
Mar 3, 2015
Mar 3, 2015 at 9:41 PM UTC
Metanoia: Heater Shield
i love the way we met unbeknownst our paths aligned and a mutual understanding was formed it’s true that the best alliances are the ones you never saw coming i’m not quite sure what we are perhaps just two people that chat i really think we can be more than friends you are someone I would start a really small gang with you can by my person i’ll have your back the pinch of daring I need like tabasco and tequila chicken wings beautiful in its unlikeliness
0
Jun 28, 2016
Jun 28, 2016 at 6:58 AM UTC
serendipity
Half past nine And the night feels so young Despite eyelids too heavy to open Inspiration On the tip of the tongue And tapping fingers on keys. Thoughts prevail wrapped in affection And the door to originality is awry Affection and Muse mix seamlessly. Confusion in delusions What could and should scrape by The heart and the pen are insoluble. Panic within existentialism No words come to mind Affection is not Muse. Separation of heart and hand Leave old alliances behind For Muse or for Affection?
0
Feb 6, 2014
Feb 6, 2014 at 10:35 PM UTC
Muse Is Not Affection
She hides her cries In the makeup she applies By streetlight. Both wash away in the rain. Devious and mistrusted She's a little disgusted By here reflection In the window pane. Beautifully tragic, Hypocritical and magic, She tries to Hide her cries. We pretend to look away. Her parents called her stardust And she covered her scars Under tattooed stars Until her body was the universe; With a black hole over her heart. Ten thousand constellations Painted on a beautiful landscape With no reservations, Invisible lines Connect-the-dots And constantly change Images making And breaking Alliances To spell out My name
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May 25, 2010
May 25, 2010 at 8:00 AM UTC
Stardust
To be alone Is to be complete They say No man is an island, But isn't everyone? We're all stranded on islands of self-interest Connected to others Through flimsy bridges of temporary alliances Mutual interests and gain The more connected we are The more isolated we become Pictures and blog posts Nothing more than facades Anomie is the word of the decade The individualistic The self-sufficient Is reviled For refusing to play the game To participate In the masquerade To jump through the hoops Of social niceties Somehow To sit and squirm Through ******* contests and gossip To flap and flutter In the howling gales of hysteria and contrived laughter Is preferred over Sitting alone Revelations and epiphanies Splayed out before oneself Playing solitaire with one's reflections In peace Baby showers and mixers Celebrated The impenetrable silence Of one's hermitage Eschewed The people-pleaser Preferred Over the lone wolf The team player Over the independent agent I suppose In an age of open doors A locked one Raises a few eyebrows They'd knock and rattle Then bang and kick and shout Before leaving in a huff Authenticity is now the rarest commodity Valued over saffron and platinum So people settle instead For knockoffs Alcohol-plied sincerity is better than nothing A China-made Rolex still looks better -- Flashier, if nothing else -- Than a Timex No man is an island, They say, Smirking Frowning Clucking with disapproval Peering behind perfectly schooled masks Nary a hair out of place Looking at me In all my artless imperfection Paper, pen, and cigarettes for company Well Which of us here Is truly alone?
0
Aug 30, 2014
Aug 30, 2014 at 10:27 AM UTC
Juche: Meditations on Solitude
To be alone Is to be complete They say No man is an island, But isn't everyone? We're all stranded on islands of self-interest Connected to others Through flimsy bridges of temporary alliances Mutual interests and gain The more connected we are The more isolated we become Pictures and blog posts Nothing more than facades Anomie is the word of the decade The individualistic The self-sufficient Is reviled For refusing to play the game To participate In the masquerade To jump through the hoops Of social niceties Somehow To sit and squirm Through ******* contests and gossip To flap and flutter In the howling gales of hysteria and contrived laughter Is preferred over Sitting alone Revelations and epiphanies Splayed out before oneself Playing solitaire with one's reflections In peace Baby showers and mixers Celebrated The impenetrable silence Of one's hermitage Eschewed The people-pleaser Preferred Over the lone wolf The team player Over the independent agent I suppose In an age of open doors A locked one Raises a few eyebrows They'd knock and rattle Then bang and kick and shout Before leaving in a huff Authenticity is now the rarest commodity Valued over saffron and platinum So people settle instead For knockoffs Alcohol-plied sincerity is better than nothing A China-made Rolex still looks better -- Flashier, if nothing else -- Than a Timex No man is an island, They say, Smirking Frowning Clucking with disapproval Peering behind perfectly schooled masks Nary a hair out of place Looking at me In all my artless imperfection Paper, pen, and cigarettes for company Well Which of us here Is truly alone?
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71
The horizon is the impossible goal. * It is the goal of trying to catch up with the sun, trying to surpass the infinite boundary that exists only from the limitations of the eye. * It is the goal that takes years of labor and toil, and when it seems like it will soon be over, it always sets itself further out of reach. * It is the goal, simple and straightforward at present, but winding and demanding the further along the path one goes. * It is the goal that must be undertaken alone, regardless of how many are on the path with you. * It is the goal that is always present, even in times of rest, the one that looms over you, stalking you like prey, hunting you when you aren't hunting it. * It is the goal whose journey many have taken, but none have returned from. * It is the goal which, after having been attained, is rumored to reward you in ways that will continue to manifest far into the future. It is the goal that you can never attain, and yet you must cross the horizon. It is the goal that you must attain, and yet you can never cross the horizon. * You can never cross the horizon, only perpetuate the hunt for what lies over it. * You can never cross the horizon, and you constantly remind yourself of this when you insanely continue to run through the toil of the process. * You can never cross the horizon, but in the quest for it, you are forced to make alliances, work with others to catapult yourselves across the same goal. * You can never cross the horizon, but the effort to do so leaves you with a stronger sense of self, knowing how you react in the face of adversity, and understanding how the journey shapes you. * You can never cross the horizon, yet you refuse to quit when each trial bends the bones of your back, when every step shreds the skin on your feet, when the heat cooks and boils your brain, when all the nerves in your being direct your heart to stop, except that one, that lonely one, that one which refuses to quit. * You can never cross the horizon, and as the sun shrinks deeper, the hunt becomes more and more desperate with every step. * You can never cross the horizon; in trying, you will only exhaust all of the resources and time that is given to you, all of the energy and strength that was left in you, and all of the creativity and ingenuity that was built in you. You can never cross the horizon. Until you do. And when you cross the horizon... The rest is up to you to write...
0
Apr 13, 2011
Apr 13, 2011 at 3:11 AM UTC
The Impossible Goal
The horizon is the impossible goal. * It is the goal of trying to catch up with the sun, trying to surpass the infinite boundary that exists only from the limitations of the eye. * It is the goal that takes years of labor and toil, and when it seems like it will soon be over, it always sets itself further out of reach. * It is the goal, simple and straightforward at present, but winding and demanding the further along the path one goes. * It is the goal that must be undertaken alone, regardless of how many are on the path with you. * It is the goal that is always present, even in times of rest, the one that looms over you, stalking you like prey, hunting you when you aren't hunting it. * It is the goal whose journey many have taken, but none have returned from. * It is the goal which, after having been attained, is rumored to reward you in ways that will continue to manifest far into the future. It is the goal that you can never attain, and yet you must cross the horizon. It is the goal that you must attain, and yet you can never cross the horizon. * You can never cross the horizon, only perpetuate the hunt for what lies over it. * You can never cross the horizon, and you constantly remind yourself of this when you insanely continue to run through the toil of the process. * You can never cross the horizon, but in the quest for it, you are forced to make alliances, work with others to catapult yourselves across the same goal. * You can never cross the horizon, but the effort to do so leaves you with a stronger sense of self, knowing how you react in the face of adversity, and understanding how the journey shapes you. * You can never cross the horizon, yet you refuse to quit when each trial bends the bones of your back, when every step shreds the skin on your feet, when the heat cooks and boils your brain, when all the nerves in your being direct your heart to stop, except that one, that lonely one, that one which refuses to quit. * You can never cross the horizon, and as the sun shrinks deeper, the hunt becomes more and more desperate with every step. * You can never cross the horizon; in trying, you will only exhaust all of the resources and time that is given to you, all of the energy and strength that was left in you, and all of the creativity and ingenuity that was built in you. You can never cross the horizon. Until you do. And when you cross the horizon... The rest is up to you to write...
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21
I’m minded today we have a choice to make our mark and raise our voice but there are those, it’s very funny who’d tell you how they’d spend your money. All over Europe pundits gather getting themselves in quite a lather giving opinions on issues political trying to make them sound so critical. Skeletons found in many a cupboard the found out grimace, some have blubbered and later when all votes are counted disappointment follows campaigns mounted. In Germany too they’ll do their thing as seats stay put or make a swing France and Italy, Ireland too votes for Europe are quite a to-do. Votes are counted on Sunday of course and Dimbleby brothers roll out in force the great Swingometer comes into play as seats are won across the UK. After all the dust has settled new MEPs all keen and mettled all take their seats with po-faced pride personal pleasure they try to hide. And so to business for some it’s new there are many and various things to do like getting claims in for their expenses the sitting places – the search for fences. Alliances to make are the next big thing who’ll vote with you on anything but represent those who for you voted or you’ll be out next time, I hope that’s noted. ©Joe Wilson – The European Elections 2014
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May 23, 2014
May 23, 2014 at 1:12 PM UTC
The European Elections
Years ago When I Was A Child, a fragrance of summer was on the hot air and winters white, frosty and snowy hid the toes of your boots when you slid. I was studious and sedate, except at play when I became a wild, part of a dog pile,                             of other wild kids at play. Limbs tangled and the weight of friendship, was worth more than the ore and gold pulled from the mine, then purified by smelting.    We could run, explore and hide on our favourite mountainside, change alliances, pick teams, fun was the factor winning was the dream, with some rivalry, we did not need to worry, or hurry, it wasn't about car bombs in our markets, temples and churches, we did not need to look alone through the rubble that was once our humble home, we needed to watch out for poison ivy, poison oak and rusty nails we did not need to look out for mines that no one mapped, in a war which neither side cared for those                whose future they have changed irrevocably.                                                    And not for the better. At night a train might disturb my sleep, not a poorly dropped bomb intended for the enemy camp, not on the edge of a village, where the hole swallowed dreams and futures and spit out death, we played kick the can, hide and go seek where running, not hopping on one foot, was the deal, where seeing, was important with both eyes, in the dark. We did not blow out our ankle, unless we tripped on a curb, unlike some children, blow off a lower limb at the knee, because they tripped a wire, which tripped a switch, of a metal canister in the dirt which once was a playground, before became a forgotten battlefield.  And a playground once again,                                        after it was for a time a cemetery. A mass grave. This was supposed to be about play, Play, what if every child who could play stopped until all children were able. You can pray for peace, you can play for peace, but can you play to stop wars. Adults play at making peace, as long as their interests (cha-ching) are met, again and again, then maybe the children's children's children can play, if they remember how, thank God children are resilient and play is a natural consequence of fun. So run along children and play stay safe and away from where your brothers... play no more. ©DWE102013
0
Oct 8, 2013
Oct 8, 2013 at 12:41 AM UTC
Play (gradually graphic content)
Years ago When I Was A Child, a fragrance of summer was on the hot air and winters white, frosty and snowy hid the toes of your boots when you slid. I was studious and sedate, except at play when I became a wild, part of a dog pile,                             of other wild kids at play. Limbs tangled and the weight of friendship, was worth more than the ore and gold pulled from the mine, then purified by smelting.    We could run, explore and hide on our favourite mountainside, change alliances, pick teams, fun was the factor winning was the dream, with some rivalry, we did not need to worry, or hurry, it wasn't about car bombs in our markets, temples and churches, we did not need to look alone through the rubble that was once our humble home, we needed to watch out for poison ivy, poison oak and rusty nails we did not need to look out for mines that no one mapped, in a war which neither side cared for those                whose future they have changed irrevocably.                                                    And not for the better. At night a train might disturb my sleep, not a poorly dropped bomb intended for the enemy camp, not on the edge of a village, where the hole swallowed dreams and futures and spit out death, we played kick the can, hide and go seek where running, not hopping on one foot, was the deal, where seeing, was important with both eyes, in the dark. We did not blow out our ankle, unless we tripped on a curb, unlike some children, blow off a lower limb at the knee, because they tripped a wire, which tripped a switch, of a metal canister in the dirt which once was a playground, before became a forgotten battlefield.  And a playground once again,                                        after it was for a time a cemetery. A mass grave. This was supposed to be about play, Play, what if every child who could play stopped until all children were able. You can pray for peace, you can play for peace, but can you play to stop wars. Adults play at making peace, as long as their interests (cha-ching) are met, again and again, then maybe the children's children's children can play, if they remember how, thank God children are resilient and play is a natural consequence of fun. So run along children and play stay safe and away from where your brothers... play no more. ©DWE102013
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70
It's people like me who can rule the world, just by knowing simple little things like Fear. Fear is one of the main driving forces behind all of mankind's actions. Fear eternal torment? **** up to "God." Fear the unknown? Deny it or mock it. Fear superiors? Make yourself the superior one. Without fear we won't do anything, with fear we can only get worse as a species; We're really slowly moving towards constantly fearing everything; Especially each other. Along with things known like; No humans are equal. With differing talents, differing thoughts, differing opinions, how can we claim to be the same? The strong will enslave the weak, humanity will revert to olden times, with fear we deny yet again, though it matters not. The only question is, who will be strong and who will bow down? the basics of human nature will come back, Dominant verses submissive mindsets, manipulators verses manipulated, corruption verses purity. People like me don't have much to worry about; People always naturally follow and listen to me, and if they don't; I can be forceful. I'm a master organizer and networker, throwing together alliances, plans of revolution, takeover, by the time the sun rises. Differences are seen in how you train your people, much like dogs at that point, with either fear or affection. Affection and care yields listening and following, kind cooperation and content with and for a likeable face and likeable words. Ingrain fear, order, into them and reap the profits, they'll listen because they have to, and won't revolt because they fear what would happen. I wouldn't hurt 'em (usually), I'm highly capable of doing damage; It's important they know that. Throw a demonstration of power, knowledge, in once and a while, so they don't get used to me, and boom; With all of this you have an overlord. I don't think I'm a bad person though, people like me are just human-smart.
0
Apr 23, 2013
Apr 23, 2013 at 4:52 PM UTC
People Like Me
It's people like me who can rule the world, just by knowing simple little things like Fear. Fear is one of the main driving forces behind all of mankind's actions. Fear eternal torment? **** up to "God." Fear the unknown? Deny it or mock it. Fear superiors? Make yourself the superior one. Without fear we won't do anything, with fear we can only get worse as a species; We're really slowly moving towards constantly fearing everything; Especially each other. Along with things known like; No humans are equal. With differing talents, differing thoughts, differing opinions, how can we claim to be the same? The strong will enslave the weak, humanity will revert to olden times, with fear we deny yet again, though it matters not. The only question is, who will be strong and who will bow down? the basics of human nature will come back, Dominant verses submissive mindsets, manipulators verses manipulated, corruption verses purity. People like me don't have much to worry about; People always naturally follow and listen to me, and if they don't; I can be forceful. I'm a master organizer and networker, throwing together alliances, plans of revolution, takeover, by the time the sun rises. Differences are seen in how you train your people, much like dogs at that point, with either fear or affection. Affection and care yields listening and following, kind cooperation and content with and for a likeable face and likeable words. Ingrain fear, order, into them and reap the profits, they'll listen because they have to, and won't revolt because they fear what would happen. I wouldn't hurt 'em (usually), I'm highly capable of doing damage; It's important they know that. Throw a demonstration of power, knowledge, in once and a while, so they don't get used to me, and boom; With all of this you have an overlord. I don't think I'm a bad person though, people like me are just human-smart.
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42
Ate with South Carolina supervisor with his wife and his parents! He is definitely a country boy, but very awesome lead tech! Thank god I been travelling around the states, while seeing the working environment as it is, and I must confess the southerners are truly nice people! I know good people lies within anywhere, but in the north (schools) it made it feel like the south was lagging in that department, and from experiences it's just media giving wrong impression also! It might be because I am only exposed to bigger cities, but thus far people in the south truly feel like a genuine people with good heart! Aside from friends in Minnesota, which by the way were good people, it was very hard to feel in place with Minneapolis suburb area. I always had my guards up for racial tensions, and mis-treatment from officers for stupid **** but in the south I honest don't feel like I have to prove anything to anyone! I feel at ease, and I feel job market is more equal in here! It might be because I am with fortune 500 company, and their culture is different, but in Target to Best Buy, and even the same company I work for now felt like they were always dividing people in Minnesota. So **** glad I no longer work for retail giants, while don't feel like I am getting segregated! I felt more like a human being in the southern states than I felt in the Minnesota, and mentally it was super exhausting, and emotionally depressing! While I felt discrimination in Minnesota, writing, art, and classical music was always my escape to ease abnormality I felt as a person! For the longest time I felt like the environment was choking the living life out of me, and I was suppose to be the bad guy in Minnesota! It felt like people were always judging for the wrong reason, and you couldn't hide yourself from those judging eyes, while they made alliances to back stab! If south is driven by racial overtone, then Minnesota was driven by undertones!   I feel I belong here in the south, and meeting right people at the right places helps me feel like I'm a human being.
0
Feb 18, 2015
Feb 18, 2015 at 10:35 PM UTC
Reflecting Inner Surroundings
Ate with South Carolina supervisor with his wife and his parents! He is definitely a country boy, but very awesome lead tech! Thank god I been travelling around the states, while seeing the working environment as it is, and I must confess the southerners are truly nice people! I know good people lies within anywhere, but in the north (schools) it made it feel like the south was lagging in that department, and from experiences it's just media giving wrong impression also! It might be because I am only exposed to bigger cities, but thus far people in the south truly feel like a genuine people with good heart! Aside from friends in Minnesota, which by the way were good people, it was very hard to feel in place with Minneapolis suburb area. I always had my guards up for racial tensions, and mis-treatment from officers for stupid **** but in the south I honest don't feel like I have to prove anything to anyone! I feel at ease, and I feel job market is more equal in here! It might be because I am with fortune 500 company, and their culture is different, but in Target to Best Buy, and even the same company I work for now felt like they were always dividing people in Minnesota. So **** glad I no longer work for retail giants, while don't feel like I am getting segregated! I felt more like a human being in the southern states than I felt in the Minnesota, and mentally it was super exhausting, and emotionally depressing! While I felt discrimination in Minnesota, writing, art, and classical music was always my escape to ease abnormality I felt as a person! For the longest time I felt like the environment was choking the living life out of me, and I was suppose to be the bad guy in Minnesota! It felt like people were always judging for the wrong reason, and you couldn't hide yourself from those judging eyes, while they made alliances to back stab! If south is driven by racial overtone, then Minnesota was driven by undertones!   I feel I belong here in the south, and meeting right people at the right places helps me feel like I'm a human being.
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3
I bend my head the bend of a ****** I lift my eyes and gravel the world with my schztophrenic eyes I touch your lips with the fingers of a ****** then walk by you like a geisha Im am my own schizophrenia I palpitate in your breathe I move in smile I love in torture and you are so beautiful to me brake bonds between thy and your cresent lips that are edged with the words of the sun and the laughter it brings to the children of our days the youth of our minds the subtle grandfathers and grandmothers in our pre pubescent hearts do you lag when you walk up to the temple of my gestures the columns are thick and victorian a high ceiling and a low waisted mistress living in the water under your footsteps drenched in white consumed in a black hue she is the abscence of light do you understand yes and proceed foward I allow you with so much of me to come into me and I condem you with little chase you with haste and depart on my fruitfull alliances with that and poverty of dependence I mutually give my self to the wrectched creatures of the dark I print my name with my nails into my own sarcaphogus built by the highest of your kind your bodies eat away at my mental felsh might I explain be so selfish to put words into a matter that was done in complete selflessness yet I am to be crowned the empress exigency I stare in the mirror so pretty so graceful yes I am the empress of exigency
0
Oct 31, 2010
Oct 31, 2010 at 9:09 AM UTC
press the finger against a subtle breath
Trust has lost its potency. Words clumsily bump up against meaning, Groping for reason the darkness of good intentions. Clinging to the old wives tales of sincerity, We hold a hollow pedastool above Or weary, aching backs, Hoping for someone to come and relieve us Of our empty obligations. Atlas has long left his perch, The world slowly tumbled off his sinewy frame, Shattering upon the cold hard face Of reality. Language has lost its clarity, Muddled with distorted alliances And miscommunication, It's flails hopelessly, gasping for air Before plummeting back down Into the deep water of tragedy And modern day relationships. There's no room anywhere For carefully constructed prose, Or spontaneous laments of passion. They've all been pushed out To make room for something intangible. Something not there enough to grasp it, But real enough to trace its Shadowy silouhette against The cold hard walls that encompass Innocence lost.
0
Feb 27, 2013
Feb 27, 2013 at 2:53 AM UTC
Trust has lost its potency (Innocence Lost)
the city's moon                                                    fixated in its peoples tics and behaviour                     crass and mentally fractured traction acts the loony satellite makes sway for rude construction                                                             padding our ego psychology nothing    simple    allowed we are all a manic reference of each other the city weather is steered                                      by currents of gossip withhold your info                culture clutches misguiding alliances     treasure your details                                                                     it is your only insurance this city                                             it's a view to thrill                                                            but it odors me til ill ****** privacy and get undressed too much time here   harbouring thirst       quibbling hurt feelings                                    signals ;  Life Emitting Distress so                                                     lock up the night city stars                                                   mar-glaring bulbs of pity-me                           staring about for vagrancy i flip up my hood              lucent pandery eyes span the communal routes    search us out       merchandise and mood i turn down an alleyway and am confronted                                           a vain and voyeuristic fan tail varieties cocktail of sales and entertainment ad lights send out sonar 'pings' wing-ed ; fencing judgement i wear pricy contacts to veil my retinas and my hood is lined with aluminium      i cough and concentrate on breath commemorate each step undertaken weaponize my walk eyes low my being is voided into guise heading further from the city centre i can straighten from my defensive pose in amongst the dwellings                            the urban effect dwindles kindled   instead   by the dosey soup wash of streetlights delights;   the holy crop of them webbing outward    retching past our boundaries                         shored back upon natures breath                       (so i imagine)
0
Nov 8, 2022
Nov 8, 2022 at 9:03 PM UTC
c i t y L.E.D.s
the city's moon                                                    fixated in its peoples tics and behaviour                     crass and mentally fractured traction acts the loony satellite makes sway for rude construction                                                             padding our ego psychology nothing    simple    allowed we are all a manic reference of each other the city weather is steered                                      by currents of gossip withhold your info                culture clutches misguiding alliances     treasure your details                                                                     it is your only insurance this city                                             it's a view to thrill                                                            but it odors me til ill ****** privacy and get undressed too much time here   harbouring thirst       quibbling hurt feelings                                    signals ;  Life Emitting Distress so                                                     lock up the night city stars                                                   mar-glaring bulbs of pity-me                           staring about for vagrancy i flip up my hood              lucent pandery eyes span the communal routes    search us out       merchandise and mood i turn down an alleyway and am confronted                                           a vain and voyeuristic fan tail varieties cocktail of sales and entertainment ad lights send out sonar 'pings' wing-ed ; fencing judgement i wear pricy contacts to veil my retinas and my hood is lined with aluminium      i cough and concentrate on breath commemorate each step undertaken weaponize my walk eyes low my being is voided into guise heading further from the city centre i can straighten from my defensive pose in amongst the dwellings                            the urban effect dwindles kindled   instead   by the dosey soup wash of streetlights delights;   the holy crop of them webbing outward    retching past our boundaries                         shored back upon natures breath                       (so i imagine)
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51
In the quantum realm of my reality I designed a mathematically beautiful fantasy An illusiory of science and dark alliances A mystical act of a forgotten godlessness I was deprived from my own health I genusly fabricated my own death But before i enter the hole I have two wishes, in it you will take a role A candle for me when i go A requiem for my dreams and my soul Words Of Harfouchism
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Apr 18, 2017
Apr 18, 2017 at 4:51 PM UTC
A candle and a requiem
Toil and trouble He went through it all Just a man yet so much more He was the seal of prophet hood Orphan child Never knew his mother But brought with him all parents rights And love for children alike Illiterate and uneducated Yet not a word was taken for granted Read in the name of Your Lord A duty upon believers to seek knowledge A noble and trustworthy tradesman His character and personality spoke for him Can you imagine in those times A woman proposed to him Committed to his mission Peace treaties and alliances Evicting racism and hatred He even fought with rules and principles He preached for the sake of brother hood Humanity and love We were all one No nationality, no patriotism Such responsibility Yet never a burden Beaten and exiled he lost his wife and kids Still he carried on for us Courageous and fearless Never judged anyone by their past or looks Open minded and tolerant Even when he was helpless Jewish neighbours And Christian cousin in laws He believed in good relations And practised what was preached He spoke of a time riddled with strife Temptations with every breath Those people would be tested the most And he prayed for people he never met Yes we love him Because he guided us to right Showed us a perfect example The role model we all aspire to
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Jan 18, 2015
Jan 18, 2015 at 2:21 PM UTC
Muhammed (pbuh)