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Tyler Dolch Feb 2012
Many in this world will become wolves and even more will be sheep.

It is the few who become shepherds that protect the sheep from being populated by the wolves of hatred, fear, and willingness to appose such on the sheep, that are the true protectors, heroes and great leaders that young men and woman should strive and wish to be.

The way of the wolf is one that will turn your heart black, your back to your friends, and your back to the world that will cause your mind to become all that is evil, wrenched, and destructive on this Earth.

Become the shepherd
Drive out the wolf
David Flemister Apr 2017
membranes bleed in classic fashion
seep into my brain with passion
pump my heart with fuel and tension
feeling like a villains henchman

******* baby, how did i know?
one more chance to powder my nose
i see whiter than the snow
and i dont know how far i can go

mr rogers asks for entry
everything gets past the sentry
powdered sugar makes me antsy
for whatever suits my fancy

im too focused for my brain
all the colours look the same
bow to gods that i dont need
if it'll cause my nose to bleed

******* baby, how did i know?
one more chance to powder my nose
i see whiter than the snow
and i dont know how far i can go

******* baby, how did i know?
one more chance to powder my nose
i dont know how you could appose
i'll just lay here taking several blows

i need you cause i want you bad
the sweetest girl i've ever had
is whiter than the winter's snow
i love it when she's in my nose

oh, i've been told to get in line
that my whole lifes a waste of time
but i've got everything i need
as long as i can do the deed

******* baby, how did i know?
one more chance to powder my nose
i see whiter than the snow
and i dont know how far i can go

******* baby, how did i know?
one more chance to powder my nose
hardly straight, no arrows bow
an early start for whole new lows

Tonsils set aflame
I can't complain
I've only got myself to blame
STIO Dec 2012
I said i’ll laugh in a minute when your jokes gets funny,
Don’t act surprised, your not made of money,
Iv’e seen pain in heaps of bare blood junkies,
Don’t push me around, Audrye.


My heart is covered in charcoal black,
You mark your steps in spots exact,
And slowly make your cashed attack,
You’ve got your eyes set, Audrye.


I’m pined and scared in paisley shade,
These foreign motels have set ashamed,
The torn wallpaper drips like raid,
These cuts are new, Audrye.


Mind over matter, and brains over brawn,
You act sympathetic, but sympathy is far gone,
Explosions of flesh, Odes and Psalms,
You know when i can’t breath, Audrye.


Pure lovers we were, white crested in brow,
Neither pure lovers or lovers are we now,
We once had blankets of untouched snow,
Im ashamed but with no regret, Audrye


The doors to the room have all been locked,
and all airways and stairways have all blocked,
Let the heat build and all carbon stocked,
I’m taking you with me, Audrye.


All my attempts futile, of death and suffocation,
We will both die surely in horrid frustration,
‘This time is sad when so beautiful and amazing’,
-Two men watched her pass, Audrye


The one was new to the room and rose
He had slipped through the barriers, set to appose
her eyes did see him in red roman robes,
He lifted the brail frame of Audrye.


With the lady secure in his tangled grasp,
he took time to notice the two lovers past,
not a single piece of solidity left tact,
He left in silence, holding Audrye.



Days did go, and health too strive,
She found peace in the home she did arrive,
He nursed her wounds, but wished nothing to bride,
She had found piece at last, Audrye.


Body first and mind the second,
Her flesh was healed but time revealed the present,
What the man found was scarred, now free but pregnant.
Was there no escape for Audrye?


She laid crying in her sickness new,
Her tongue was cut, in pure silence she grew,
She pleaded to leave past lovers adieu,
But bore the child of a dead man, Audrye.


Now months time past, and not a single word said,
The man tended her breast, and never left her bed,
Her pure white that blackened, now turned red,
She saw his compassion, Audrye.


One word came with one more week,
And a sentence saw darling aprils peak,
The haunting shadows had little to reap,
Who is this man? said Audrye.


He new her price and new her shame,
He truly loved with out knowing her name,
How could he care without expecting the same,
Love is funny, Audrye


As the child reached morning, his home still open,
As she sat and cried, a widows hoping,
It had been a night of a pain, the man watched her broken,
He stood from the window, Audrye.


The night of the expected came and she wept,
Ashamed of the burden, holding love and regret,
Silently she passed his door, and slowly down the step,
This was her mistake only, Audrye


The gravel pushed the souls of her feet,
Crying in pain she screamed at the streets,
A contraction, compassion, she woke him from sleep,
She searched away for help, Audrye.



He cursed himself for closing his eyes,
He knew why she ran, and knew why she cries,
He had to tell her this, his love uncompromised,
He went for her, Audrye


Her body was still, and leaned on an oak,
As he made his way on foot down the road,
The country air was thick, and low,
But she saw him through the fog, Audrye.


Tucked in the thicket to hide from his aide,
Hoping he’d pass, she couldn’t bare such shame,
Across her lap, the new born laid,
Wrapped in her coat, Audrye.


As he rushed onward, forward in search,
He nearly passed her sunken perch,
But a cry of wisdom from the blessed birth,
Stopped him in his tracks, Audrye.


Nimble and weak, he lifted her once more,
With a child makes two is what a family makes for,
That night they lay together, all three on the floor
Culmination of bliss,
On her brow a gentle kiss,
Audrye.
BLVNK Oct 2013
Fresh like a breeze along the beaches of caribbean seas,
squeezed orange juice on early mornings in champagne glasses.
Fresh like a bald cut on a Marine, Navy seal
or even the old man down the block keeping it real.
Fresh like a baby in a womb, car smell, new perfume, dorm rooms,
or anything that seems cool.
Fresh like a new pair of J's,
or even a basketball player even better than Kobe when he plays.
Fresh like a girl opening her legs for feelings of *******
or even teenagers using proactive for there pores.
Fresh like tired of saying fresh like
I'm the best right, lyrical lights
infested blood, Z Type.

I know its wack but I try my best,
to even contest with poetry,
complexed not even a inch of talent flowing in me.
My enemies telling me that its real
still there scrolls are sealed,
lying to keep my lips sealed.
They laugh behind my back
giving false facts, about me laying down wax
to keep my rhymes charged to the max.
Instead I walk on tacks bare foot open toes
its a lie to tell the truth why should I even appose.
I received a broken nose mentally
foreseeing scripts critically
AM I FRESH I GUESS NOT.
More of a plot to leave me blind,
terrorist worst then Sadam
aligned  to lock my mind
I look at myself below divine.
R W N-S Jan 2014
There are hardly any writers, freaks or conscious investigators for the living. Some one to shed light on the current affairs of  this nation, this Earth, this universe. Not these local heroes either, and not these reptiles behind computers. But some one who can bring us back to simpler modes of information distribution, like a news paper dropped off at every door step, run by revolutionaries and wonder fanatics who think and feel broadly, who don't give in completely to greed or materialism. Emotional wrecks who don't lead any one type of party, who are not interested in leading but, those of whom listen and replay. And, if they do or don't succeed in their studies so be it. We all have our duties in life, there will be another pack of poets right behind them, innovators. You gotta give something up some time, walk away a better individual for it, I think too.
A lot of deep sea divers out there, blind, not sure how to fallow the line back to the boat, scared they might run out of air soon, and they will. I've seen it happen to some good sailors.

How do we gauge freedom, what's right, who is right and why so many ******* questions...(?) At this moment in history we have a few choices and a few rules that must be risen high, on a flag post some where in the middle of this country, big enough so the whole world can see it up there, along with a new flag, too.
It reads, "Don't disrupt or hurt earthly habitats, inhabitants, or insult anyone because of their race, class, gender or religion.
Challenge, feud and collaborate. Don't freak out when ideas appose your own, letting your eyes become red and swollen.
Killing is out - unless it's killing yourself, or harming your own body. It's your body you don't want you want with it, (We just hope it doesn't come to such brutal measures).
Any harm done to another means that you will forced into rehabilitation - you will mediate, talk with counselors, learn to survive in nature, grow your own food, and if necessary be shown opportunity.
If you're a true ******* of ******, we don't have time for you, you are out of here." Some times some people can not be helped.

Is freedom something you would classify as having the ability to assemble your own conclusions? Does your reality in comparison to others appear stronger and less misguided because of the inherent morals, such as right and wrong? Is life a constant battle with others because of their ignorance, and can you find peace in your free-ness with out feeling like you've served justice upon them?

Next II

Some commonly ignored, also opposed at times, ancient mythologies like native american wisdom or south american indigenous ritual have been shattered by historians and scientists alike. Those who believe logic and reasoning are platters on a academic menu best served soon before they've assembled . All the while their dishes in abundance, rotten, sitting on the table surrounded by skeleton men, whose hearts where gray and dusty, dried up like prunes long before they had kicked the spit bucket. They wanted to build realities from recycled evangelical European patriarchal war mongers instead of clutching in the next hand research that exceeds simple Darwinian thought or archaeological speculation, to discover what lay behind our skin and deep within the hallows of consciousness.

"Let's reinvent the gods, all the myths
                        of the ages
Celebrate symbols from deep elder forests
[Have you forgotten the lessons
                        of the ancient war]

We need great golden compilations"

                                                             - J. Morrison

We do need great golden compilations. We've got to accrue volumes of books, music, obscurantist theory, and quantum exploration. We have to reflect, speculate and hover over the body in sagacious transcendentalism,  gag our selves until we feel unsettling and alive. Purge the mind of blackened clogs preventing a courtesy flush, headlong in a spiral, in the spirit of invention.

There are answers and then, there are replies. How do we reply to our own answers
IsReaL E Summers Jan 2016
A silver platter,
I've never had.
Only words for munitions
By definition im smitten with'm
Slow down the rythym
Let the bass drop and then when it hits'm
Spiznit the wisdoms
Please consider your kingdoms!
Held together by lectric power.
Without it you'd be devoured
By thoughts in the shadow-realm
So batten the hatches-of-helm
Scatter the ashes that fell
Sell your attachments
To hell
And roll on your magical mystical
Fantasical whimsical mythical
journey-of-legend
Let's leave a lasting loving legacy
Lamenting is landing zone.
Loud laffs appose.
Poetry & pro's
Just a thought;
"I suppose"
Poe@treeofLife ("YOU TREE HUGGING HIPPIE!")  ... OK I'll be that. ^-^
Whatever you say cap'n!!!
luq Jun 2017
i can see that the sun arose
after the creaking of earth,
light enters my room
after a diligent pose;
and i still wonder if
there is a saviour
for it will only appose
the offended and prideful

avarice we perceive; dissipates  
as light touches earth
as virtue replaces sin
the midnight heroes run to help
the wallowing poverty down beneath
while apathy slowly falls into
a slight daze
the break of dawn fills me with haze
after subuh
Viseract Oct 2015
You tear apart your enemies
With Fangs of Steel
This unique weapon of yours
Defending your friends, is why you wield
Your weapon of fangs, your only shield

You rip out the hearts
Of those
Who appose
The ones close to your own heart

You hold those
Close to you
With the only thing you can do:
Protection, affection
In those Fangs of Steel
To love and to hate, humanity's fate
Creepstar Apr 2016
Ouch
That's right in what I feel
And its a deal
That you get to walk away with my heart
While I stand back and have to start..
...every day brand new
Heart got a bruise just a few
But its you
That lit me up,burnt me out
I had faith and no doubt

You still chose
To appose
All i had to give
Like water through a shiv
Stabbed clean into my heart
what is art
When covered in blood
That pours over your soul
But youre scotchgarded against me
You see
You are free
I wouldnt wish any other way to be but me

Feeel my pain
Feel my sorrow
Long to not wake up
Tommorow

Try to digest pain and fear
And you know you,baby
Will stand clear

Of what i am
Im a creep
And i hope for one second
You might reap
The feelings ive felt
A sorrow so deep
That you my dear
Lost wool for the sheep
Freestyle spoken word to the air around me
Simon Sep 2020
A girl who has NO boundaries for "self-servitude", is made to calm the collective rush in their very ("sudden, immediate and unexpected") heart! A heart that isn't bounded by truer believes (than what actually should be more brought up "frequently", altogether). Before it's too late to react! (You who costs nothing...but a single "penny of hope", is more to "fail" ALL the same from within that steady heart that's going too collapse sooner rather than later!) Because something that's too (sudden, immediate and unexpected) isn't meant "to fail all the same" when everything starts to "repeat, repeat, repeat"...all over again! (For there's NEVER such a thing as a "rinsing effect"...for a doll moment when you keep repeat, repeat, repeat, "inadvertently" speaking!) Rendering your literal inability to appose upon a gutless feeling that shouldn't allow you to get the last laugh of such an impending material of obstruction...that is your own heart! Because believes are (sooner or later) stolen by that very heart of yours, after all... That's exactly why the human heart could also be called the "triple thread".... Due too it's ability to render itself towards your own mind for the utterly directionless "sudden, immediate and unexpected" drop on how your own consciousness can't prepare for it... When it was already meant too tear itself away from what (sense of duty) is even about...???
Because if you truly knew what that very sense of duty was even about, then you'd probably would have known (later on in life) when the damage had already been then. (Suppose to not officially knowing, right then and there.) Accept that's another story for an entirely different time (for another passing thought on... "A girl who has NO boundaries for "self-servitude.")
Self-servitude is a timeless retreat too officially promote you into the most diverse situation ("imaginable")!
All so it can detest ALL opportunities for a such very healthy circumstance to balance ALL the clutter that comes with having NO boundaries to a girl that has yet to come to terms with.
Sequoia Dec 2017
My words fill her mind, giving her divergent thoughts.
She now often dreams about
doing what she loves for the rest of her life,
as appose to the latest trends or gossip.
I've unlocked doors in her mind she has never tried to open.
Her perception of society changes.
She yearns for happiness instead of approval.
She is her own being.
On a journey to accomplishing her goal of being successful.
written on Dec.30.17 @ 9:08 AM
Quoy mon ame, dors tu engourdie en ta masse ?
La trompette a sonné, serre bagage, et va
Le chemin deserté que Jesuchrist trouva,
Quand tout mouillé de sang racheta nostre race.


C'est un chemin facheux borné de peu d'espace,
Tracé de peu de gens que la ronce pava,
Où le chardon poignant ses ****** esleva,
Pren courage pourtant, et ne quitte la place.


N'appose point la main à la mansine, apres
Pour ficher ta charue au milieu des guerets,
Retournant coup sur coup en arriere ta vüe :


Il ne faut commencer, ou du tout s'emploier,
Il ne faut point mener, puis laisser la charue.
Qui laisse son mestier, n'est digne du loier.
Sam Mar 2017
Only time will tell the confidence within,
the courage, the strength, behind the skin.
Near and far from the depths of the shadows
Breaking from underneath the grin.

Everything here are things that I chose,
Holding back, anything but the proper prose
Wearing down, and running thin,
Running away from those who appose.
B Sep 2021
You've got my heart strings ******* in cat's cradle
I pray you'll be gentle, don't think you're able.
No promise was made, the world on spins
yet from my eyes, leak testimony of betrayal
so fair, knowing I could never win.

I chew on the thought like a watermelon rind
in the stifle of june bug skies
bitter juice to poison this mind.
And I want you to stroke the space where ribs grow tight
but I still see you reaching for my breast
in the absence of light.

Foaming like the rivers edge,
every moment I move my mouth
can you - I beg - listen instead.

You tell me I am what lets your eyes close
when, at night, you sleep.
I wonder what you dream in visions deep
are our eyes embraced as we lay appose?
Will you touch me beyond these sheets?
To When was evil born ?
Not out of God for nothing but love and goodness can come ?
Then from Satan a fallen angel didst not God make ?
Then to what ?
Good and evil must then struggle side by side until God alone
decide the White horse rides and evil finds its emortal decent .

T'was early dawn ,
Hannah awoke to cut branches for a fire ,

Wood for the fire ,
a rabbit to catch ,
logs for the fire must crackle and burn ,
crackle and burn
a crakle and burn ,
a noose ,
a trap .
A kiss ,
Skewered above a fire .
A worm gave birth its shell stuck upon an oak  ,
to nestle its young under Crimson tree ,
and suckle them in Crimson love ,
to protect from Wolf and snare .
then die .
Dogs lay in wait circled near ,
the Wolfs cry how far ?
not far away ,
not far away .
Crakle and burn ,
Crakle and burn .
Not far away the wolves and the dogs circled ready to
feel the crack of you're bones ,ripping of you'r flesh for meat .

A horse and cart drew near to bear much apples and plums ,
Pulled up near the fire to ask most kindly to buy ,
not to be in want ,
to be free from his.Master ,
not to owe a penny .

" Come near Hannah said tell me your woe ,
How a rich man can want anything from a good man as yo ?
Take some meat for from it you must eat "
" How kind pray tell me your name that you should be so kind .?"
Go to the castle ,
Go up the hill ,
take this Gold coin from my pouch for there are no ill .,
now go in haste , don't delay and meet me as the sun must rise
twice in one day "

Hannah waited as tears streamed down her eyes ,
how long she would wait two days was her cry .
Two days and yet would he ever return ?
Was the lamb and the rabbit ,
and the time they had shared ,
the promise he made to return a gibe ?

Hannah would wait about the gate ,
behind her Father lie..
What thoughts of grief filled her heart ,
What thoughts her vibrant cry.

She waited two days at the gate she sang a sonnet sweet ,
so strange the thoughts that linger .
If God in all his glory could leave my beloved for the grave ?
if evil thoughts should he poses to steal his heart from me "

Sunday's Easter dawn at last drew nigh as if Saturday's sky
Knew not why ?
It was as if Lord Monck and Prince Ruperts men's fleet of ships
sailed the high seas and save England's shores again .
As Soon appose my darling love rattle his cart in all but love ,
Into his arms I would but lay as Saturday's dark toil was but
One dark day .
Then as the Sun in all its splendour rose  ,
how sweet the blackbird sang .
Then hand in hand took their pews ,
Hymn books raise to Easter hymns songs of love .

The worm had now dead its shell turned to white ,
Our sin as once was crimson red had now been turned to snow ,
an empty tomb ,
an Angels watch .












"














e
Alan S Jeeves Nov 2021
Blood red blooms with foliage green,
Dancing, bowing in the air.
Paint an image so serene
The sweetest scarlet lady fair.
Meadows, fields of floral show
To the landscape, briefly lent;
Come to me where here I grow ~
Lie with me amongst my scent.

Blood red blooms in golden light
Smiling skyward t'ward the blue;
Morning comes with evening's flight
As sunbeams start the day anew.
Gaze on me, peruse my poise,
Enjoy my sanguine, wooing charm;
Hear me sing, consume my noise ~
Lie with me amongst the calm.

Blood red blooms, as crisp as crêpe,
In proudly blazed eccentric rows;
Form their rouge unbounded drape
Where their seed chose to appose.
Here within a rural sea
Swimming, floating as a shoal;
Immerse your being, set you free ~
Lie with me and bathe your soul.

Blood red blooms of poppies gay,
Battling in a wind so strong;
Sent to blow them all away
And sweep their countenance along.
Blood red hues ~ now black as hell,
The winds of war have caused them weep;
Stay you here, this field you fell ~
Lie with me and soundly sleep.
Oh Father God, disaster threatens
Do not put me in jeopardy
Turn to me quickly

Oh Jesus Christ, disaster threatens
Yes, quickly turn to me
And appose Thy remedy

Oh Holy Spirit, disaster threatens
Whispers of doom visit nightly
Before I fall, rescue me!

-01/22/2014
(Dumarao)
*My Prayer Poems Collection
My Poem No. 248
Safana May 2020
To see you look like, lory …
You got calm, as in rory…
And, you look not in fury…
Your smile washed the wary

How I can be, scary
I got to feel like airy
All my words are vary
Because I go to dairy

You are cute smiley…
Like you gone to valley
Someone think is rally
But, I know it is holey…

I brought for you, a rose
I tried to give you a dose
But doses not impose...
And, you haven't appose

— The End —