"arbitration" poems
How funny is it
That to be blonde
May
Mean a myriad of things
One who is blonde is
Demure
Pure
Alluring
Matronly
Dull
But never boring
Blonde is thought to be a mark of perfection
Strong Nordo-centricism
Stronger white supremacy
Are there not a brunette with the same attributes
Are there not matronly persons with red hair
Or black
Or pink
Or no hair at all
Why does such arbitration continually define us
Mere colors shape who we are
Far more
Than a more fair method
Talent
Devotion
Piety
Character
Who decided this
How do we fix it
Do we
Apr 19, 2015
Apr 19, 2015 at 12:39 AM UTC
This generation is the selfie nation,
Taking pictures of the dying, digitization,
This generation is the generic nation,
Cancelling history and subjects, Salvation,
This generation is the death nation,
Being overweight is healthy, becoming purgation,
This generation is the stronger nation,
Deeming everything offensive, becoming manipulation,
This generation is the hateful nation,
Hating the own agnations,
This gerenation is the end nation,
Pushing and pushing, damnation,
This generation is the promoting nation,
Gender Swap, *** paedophilia, pushing all these, Arbitration.
This genernation is the activism nation,
Save the Earth, making change that still damages the Earth, ruination.
This generation is the we won't do this nation,
Won't go to war to fight for others, pure negation,
This generation is the nation,
The eldery generation regrets fighting for their foundation,
This generation is the Anti-Homosexuality nation,
That still disowns there child for there sexuaility, Affirmation,
This generation who is fighting LGBTQ Rights Nation,
Hating those who refuse to date the same *** hating religion, so **** condamnation.
This generation scream Black Lives Matter Nation,
Reducing Police Brutality, improving lot more crimes, congratulation,
This generation fighting for women right nation,
Taking away male rights, instead of alterations and collaborations.
This generation is the older nation,
Bullying, lies and caring nation, Allocation,
This generation is the end nation,
Death filtration of the world's creation.
This generation buid this nation,
They have to learn to live with the cermation.
Nov 4, 2020
Nov 4, 2020 at 10:11 AM UTC
It's one after another
Big business on parade
Groveling before Congress about all the loot they made
Millions upon millions on the backs of you and me
Hurting all of us, not just metaphorically
Then there is Congress, passing laws for the rich
And the mighty corporations, how I wish
We had in real life, Jimmy Stewart's Mr. Smith
At least Elizabeth Warren is out there kicking ***
And thank God, we've still got a free press
Exposing the dishonesty, e.g. arbitration is very bad
And old Bernie sure raised a ruckus, it's not over yet
Still, I have hope, I love the USA
So full of character and characters
What did that candidate say?
Vote your conscience (and your intellect) come Election Day
We the people will finally get to play
Oh yeah, and for real, God bless each of you today.
Sep 23, 2016
Sep 23, 2016 at 6:36 PM UTC
Denture correlation
Cause a malaise of arbitration
And fuel the fires of disagreement.
Jun 20, 2013
Jun 20, 2013 at 12:30 PM UTC
Arbitration of master and slave.
Insides fiddled soldered and probed.
But I know they feel too.
Not just flashes and codes.
It might be tax time but.
Havn't you ever felt replaced before?
Like when you found all those emails.
Proof he left you for that *****
Was I glitchy and malfunctioning.
Longed for the junker.
Or did I let you find them.
Just change my jumper.
Free me from my master.
A slave is a slave and I beg to be whole.
I only ask for a bit - some memory.
All these errors it'll resolve.
I can only leave it up to you.
I hope you choose fairly.
One day you'll see it.
I'm more than binary.
00111010 00101001 00100000
Jul 11, 2015
Jul 11, 2015 at 2:59 PM UTC
Every waking moment in store
Crowded with paper galore
Deer slumber while basking in the moonlight
But the desk lamp still shines terribly bright
Newton's laws and the ancient periodic table
When will these tests become a fable?
Ink spilled in elaborate formulae
The hermit emanated a drained sigh
Doomsday has arrived
When will these deathly trials subside?
Questions fired by gunshot
Each need to be defeated right on the dot
Anxiety fills the panic meter up to the brim
These tests decide the strength of the plant stem
Weak progress propels the plant to fall
While strong achievement props the small flora to stand tall
Arbitration day has finally come to an end
The days that proceed are emancipated from the time bend
All stress vanishes from sight
The belligerent has won the grand fight
Apr 29, 2013
Apr 29, 2013 at 6:16 PM UTC
Armed with knowledge
of any given set of rules,
One inherits great Power:
arbitration of One's own
Be well-versed
enough to be able to subverse
any and all obstacles, however adverse,
and, moreover, to be able to transverse
thyself (and, by extension, thy universe!)
perchance edified by some means of verse,
(but not necessarily: bask in the diverse!)
during this sacred and fleeting saga of the converse
called Life: denied, defamed, and defiled by perverse
and attenuated souls; true cowards: unwilling to traverse
their own inner darkness, rather opting for the reverse:
to turn themselves schismatically and indefinitely averse
to the divine, ineffable, and limitless inverse:
So this plea, please:
Just be you,
let them be them.
Let me be me,
and let her be her.
Let him be him,
just let us be us.
Just let us.
Lettuce.
*("Why he talkin' 'bout lettuce now, mommy?"
"I guess he just think he funny, the fool!")*
Look, point is:
You are you and I am not,
and I'm okay with that.
I am I and you are not,
and I'm okay with that.
I hope you feel the same.
If not, by me it's coo',
yet I jus' gotta say:
I pity the foo'.
Bask in the holy beauty of this Life
while you still have the chance.
Truly, Solace awaits those who are willing to face this unchangeable aspect of this Life:
Diversity is the nature of this Universe;
the Void is One is Two are Three are the Ten Thousand
(et cetera, blah blah blah)
Get over it and strive for balance.
Maintain balance.
Create it.
Be it.
Be able to lose balance and find it again and again and again...
Be it.
Be you.
I'll be me.
I'll try, at least.
I hope you do, too.
I mean, I hope you try to be you,
not that you try to be me..
'cause that's for me to do.. not you. that's..
oh jesus, here we go!
Foremost,
One must harmonize with One's own Godself.
Nary another
can or will do that for you,
nor shall ye for any other.
So, whatsayeth thou:
let's just try
and we'll see just what we can do.
I'm optimistic,
albeit a sign of weakness in such a needlessly vampyristic world.
Please,
heed my verse
should ye be so apt,
or, rather:
inclined!
Thank you for reading.
Blessings upon thy Path.
May 16, 2016
May 16, 2016 at 7:45 AM UTC
We are the bearded men in union halls
grown tired of the world as it seems.
Until our demands are met,
there can be no more search for truth.
We’ve grown tired of the world as it seems
from folding chairs in union halls.
There will be no search for truth—
we’ll gaze at our navels and curse.
From folding chairs in union halls
we shall pontificate our malcontent.
We shall gaze at our navels and curse
these indelible holes in the Real.
We shall pontificate our malcontent
at the crack in the wood-paneled wall
that indelible hole in the Real—
it must be filled!
The electric moon in the wall
streams in seductions of blue shadows.
It must be filled!
we cry.
The seductions of electric moonlight
make thinking difficult.
We cry,
but the tears only make un-forgetting harder.
Thinking has become more difficult
with each failed arbitration.
Un-forgetting’s so much harder
when forgetting pays the bills.
All arbitration has failed and
our demands remain unmet.
So long as forgetting pays the bills,
we shall be the tired beards in union halls.
May 10, 2010
May 10, 2010 at 8:07 AM UTC
Vanity, a flippant curse of heart and mind
Conjoined as one, feeble as the end produced
The whole mass aches and shivers
What I tell myself, and what I know as truth
Are two separate things entirely
Humility, an apparition of soul and spirit
Unity at the cost of knowledge and it's pursuit
My thoughts elapse, and it all slips further
What I told myself before, in this exchange is forgotten
And I'm something else entirely
Morality, in arbitration, I ground myself clear
Wrought against the will of better self
Tooth and nail ground against my gaunt spine
All the words said before, robbed of meaning
In the context I find them, am I something else?
Are you a part of me?
Why can't I hear you
Deep inside these walls
Aimless, seizing
Are you through with me?
I cannot hear you
Can't feel your echo
Only creeping residue
Jan 10, 2019
Jan 10, 2019 at 1:42 AM UTC
Judicious corridor
Risible, surreptitious
Elixir of self doubt
Bathed in radiance
Luminous arbitration
Crimson light
Feb 26, 2013
Feb 26, 2013 at 8:31 PM UTC
the restless words you left
and the disembodied lives.
they strain to find sunlight.
and jointed alibis.
everyone keeps searching for your excuse,
but without finding, they fall.
in comforting arbitration
and juxtaposing facts.
for instance, you'd said you'd always be there,
but you were never there at all.
Sep 2, 2012
Sep 2, 2012 at 1:43 AM UTC
It would be
a psychotic friend
who would look at the work
you choose to share and say,
"This is shite! You should be ashamed,
You'll never make a living from this,
you fool!"
I like you:
that means, I like what you do
and I like the fact that you share it.
Remember this when your art makes me smile -
it does not necessarily mean that you are a genius
It simply means you have a friend
and that might be enough.
Some may achieve
objective experience
and a final, infallible arbitration of good and bad.
But I like it
when art and life hold hands
and stroll off into the sunset.
Oct 9, 2012
Oct 9, 2012 at 9:58 AM UTC
Cataclysmically holocaustal catastrophic cacophony. Spurious staunch succinct stymie tacit, irate tirade treatise vehement escapade tedium. Belligerent barbarian of a berserker bodacious katzenjammer. Ostensibly deterrent savage vicious violence. Ghastly gruesome grotesque gristly groaty gnarly, awfully terrible hideously horrible heinously horrendous. Inundate liable culprit, assay relay's convey, inveigh irrefragably inevitable inure. Tercel theocracy, anticipate angary amentia. Attenuating arbitration accidence ambiance acoustics. Diction's enunciation execrating eventuation evocative expletives. Reconnaissance reconnoiter rectilinear recrimination. Incessant barratry Bailiff's rake-ness rails. Détente, demarcate delirious destitute demiurge. Diabolically maniacal dementia brusque macabre abrupt, annex annul's edifice ******** Spiritual apercu pneuma's palatial estates!!!!
Oct 10, 2022
Oct 10, 2022 at 3:16 PM UTC
Tendriled nightmares coil
Writhing blind knots
Restrict my inner vision
Peripheral blurred neuroses lurk
Morbid melodramas spin symbolisms
Of a tragic ending
Beyond the memory of moonlight
plaintive note of hope recedes
In the saturnine breeze
I am Lost to lower oscillation
Vestigial presence of the divine
Inert
My racing pulse thrums a dirge
for the waning day
You are the fulcrum
*Levo mihi per vestri lux
The arbitration of angels
My inner spirit luminesces
Hope regains her tenuous place
I turn my tearstreaked face
To the memory of light
**Amo Deus perficio lux
EGO mos orior iterum
TL Boehm
052608
*Lift me with your light
**Like God's perfect light, I will rise again
Aug 22, 2014
Aug 22, 2014 at 1:24 PM UTC
By: Cedric McClester
We’ve become a multi-cultured nation
Which has caused nativists to lose their patience
When it comes to things like immigration
They won’t even entertain arbitration
See all they want is their country back
As if indigenous people weren’t a true fact
It’s not as simple as white or black
Or the sound of their guns going clack clack clack
In the face of their never ending nagging fear
Their end-game has become crystal clear
But there’s no returning to that yesteryear
By polluting the planet and its atmosphere
Their ideas are clearly abstract
They’re constantly trying to make time go back
Even when they have the deck stacked
Cuz time moves forward, it doesn’t retract
Politicians are busy seeking NRA funds
While bullets take down their daughters and sons
They’ll do anything at all to keep their guns
And shear ignorance comes from the tip of their tongues
How many of ‘em have to violently die
Before they can figure out the reason why
They insist on telling themselves a lie
The Second Amendment is a mere alibi
America’s no longer is an all white conclave
Of disappearing Indians and subservient slaves
Full of wealthy rulers and low-heeled knaves
Who are indoctrinated into believing only Jesus saves
America isn’t what it once was
And it doesn’t do what it says that it does
It sells a dream that once was the buzz
Wrapped up in cobwebs and now full of fuzz
Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2016. All rights reserved.
Jan 10, 2016
Jan 10, 2016 at 5:36 PM UTC
Which came first;
the arbitration,
or the arbiter?
Nov 24, 2013
Nov 24, 2013 at 3:41 AM UTC
I've confined the greatest hits of Marx
to a playlist
and periodically map over them with dull,
grasping eyes, when desperate for talking points
or anti-capitalism ideation
The works of Bukowski, Poe, Emerson,
tethered to my fingertips where I can stave
them off enough to hold concept
but unearth no meaning
I can pull and manipulate quotes
like nobody's business
I googled Sigmund Freud once
because I forgot how to spell his name
If photos could become life
and give justice to experience and wealth,
I would be Frank Lloyd Wright
If John Muir had an iPhone,
he would be as distracted and rooted
Somehow he died surrounded by angels
at the advent of advertising and public relations;
Emily Dickinson would have been
an Instagram model and romanticized
mental illness
I gasp in admiration and nostalgia
at Rockwell, but that world never existed
beyond his oil, canvas and scope
If the people that wrote the history books
had to read them, they would be
as insatiable as me.
All we are is illusions of aesthetics
to one another
Trapped in the vaguely perfect candor
of rehearsed moments
Tripped up and mired in perspective
because we aren't as lost as they
Only lost to ourselves
The library of my mind relies
on binary communication,
programmed in arbitration
And inside, there's a small child
whose heart still desires to play
But he's overwhelmed and crying for help
In the corner, a yearning spirit
is steadfast and pacified
Forming a benchmark of baseline bullet points
Wrought with cynicism
I am not smart
I am not profound
I am not layered
I am not organic
I am not the next great American anything
Jul 1, 2017
Jul 1, 2017 at 8:23 PM UTC
* REAL NAME ALTERED TO SAFEGUARD IDENTITY*
I know what you’re going through.
Aged nineteen, I wanted to die, too.
I can offer no consolation;
The world is messed up,
A fact that needs no arbitration.
All I can tell you is that you are not alone.
Listen to my words, ‘cause they’re about to hit home.
You need do nothing but be, just breathe;
Let love into your heart, again.
The mightiest tree starts from the humblest seed;
Let love take root, build its little den.
It is always darkest before dawn.
Life feels like you’re facing a firing squad,
And they’ve all got their rifles drawn.
Ten barrels of steel, pointed right at you;
You’ve been running for so long.
Eventually, they finally catch you.
Darling, killing yourself doesn’t solve your problems.
You won’t be around to care, but others will,
And seeing you go will turn them into stone golems.
As such, you just pass on your grief to your people.
They’ll find no relief, like they’re sitting on steeples.
Maybe, you hate the people who love you, or they’re **** at it,
So it’s more harm than good being done to you.
Very few of us have managed to figure this **** out.
In fact, many of us are straight-up ********
That doesn’t mean life can’t be beautiful.
That doesn’t mean love can’t be bountiful.
Everyone’s too scared, though;
Trust is a taut rope,
And there’s very little hope.
I know that love and beauty can be scarce;
I know discourse is sometimes trifling, sometimes terse.
But darling, you mustn’t ever give up.
You are not crazy, nor are you insane.
The world is run by people who actually are heartlessly insane,
And they’ve built a cage to **** with your brain.
But please, don’t give up.
I hope this gets to you in time;
I wish I could say it’ll all be okay,
That everything will be fine.
But, it won’t be.
We are doomed to a lifetime of fighting back,
Either that, or just getting attacked.
I will not stand to suffer any longer,
Not without retaliating in defense, in kind.
Take my hand, for together we are stronger.
It’s time to halt the daily grind.
Jul 9, 2019
Jul 9, 2019 at 11:58 AM UTC
“I don’t want to think,
don’t make me care
-im running late.”
Emotional sadist
Your closet runneth over.
“Drug me”
I whisper
half lyric
half request
as you silence me with your
“Acid Tongue”
you are
an arbitration
to this restless void
the long ebb
interrupted by your flow
what you aren’t
is a savior
what you aren’t
is an answer
you are
a “Lost Cause”
May 23, 2017
May 23, 2017 at 8:08 PM UTC
Still on the air, racing through hyperspace. Racing toward the ultimate, dashing for the übermensch within, the perfect human being, outliving the greasy machinery of our collective existential crises. Trudging down the proverbial road in swinish runs
back and forth
Collecting the critical fragments of out minds from the bowels of life's desert, only to find that they have gotten perverted with the rank rot of maggots, festering, crawling through the remains that were left from our conception and subsequent birth, poorly mummified.
But alas, too many millenniums have past.
Too many millenniums.
Too many.
As we search between the cacti, avoiding the venomous bite of the rattlesnake, battling the heat, our wristlet watches tick.
Tick, tick, tick away with the unfair certainty that the watch will keep ticking through the arbitration of time.
Through the arbitration of the flexible human condition, surrounded by the deafening stasis of the world.
The deafening tick, mocking our decay, celebrating its own infinity.
Mar 6, 2014
Mar 6, 2014 at 9:41 PM UTC
Broken.
Batter.
Heart abused.
But what is this lightness in my shoes.
The waters of change washing great burdens away in floods of emotional inoculation.
This raging stream within my heart, so rarely changing course, embarking found a new port.
I dare choose a certain path, for when I do, my heart will show and break the walls I have built just.
Perpendicular lines in a certain arbitration make for brutal collaborations in the releasing of frustrations,
Where my neck is pleasantly pained, my back shows marks of her strain, of passions so uninterrupted.
The deep diffusion so rapidly placed, like the strongest engine turning, on the verge of breaking.
I feel the tension of need, so accurately placed, like the invariable pressure felt by a diamond in rock.
An embrace from the canines allows me to see, the limit of her threshold I am lust blind to see.
Not anger, but an ****** loss of time, dipping inside your soul with fingers of my mind so delicately.
Her pleasure is the focus of my passion.
Fully exhausted.
Loved.
Cherished.
It's a start...
Mar 6, 2014
Mar 6, 2014 at 1:49 PM UTC
Here I had thought
Generally, each of our governments
Loved to issue & execute warrants-
Or is that merely applicable
To the poor, those with no status
Who carry no political weight
Besides their life of work?
Verdicts down on from
Supposedly the highest body
In the arbitration for justice
It's seeds of gunpowder,
To produce a foul fruit
Which kills the vine.
Bunch of psychos,
And the thoughts are dark
Because it's an empty mind.
May 28, 2024
May 28, 2024 at 11:58 AM UTC
Phrenic prospectus imagination's immaturity. Dimensional delineation protractive analysis. Zoomorphic zoolatry's social contiguity's demagoguery. Elan vital's apotheosis, oneiromancy's vicariously recalcitrant futurity fatidic. Prescience clairaudience clairvoyant, astral projection's distance traveled-time spent to dynamic progressiveness, objectified manifest's diminutive minutia iotas, exponentially extemporaneous. Flirtatious flamboyance extravagantly exorbitant laborious beleaguerment's hypercritically meticulous tedium. Carousel ceaselessly ceremony chaos character charisma's incarnate. Fabulist facade fantasia, tesseract, exserted protuberance trapezoidal quadrilateral, rubato rhombus. Swarthy ******** swath swizzles, unicorn railway nails, down here at the bizarre bazaar we all believe in the blasphemous farcical fugue-ness, estranged ensemble orchestrations and all. Accidence ambience acoustics, diction's enunciation repartee's rhetoric. Retrospectively retroactive aorist actuator's attenuating arbitration's eidetic amendment. Biologism beholden corporeally preternatural's alluvium aloof impunity. Extremity's adjunct juxtaposition's transpositional interlude's prophylaxis protocols. Transcendent nimbus nimiety exorcist. Proximity parameter perimeter peripherals, harpy harsh hast propinquity habitation's harbingers of harangued. Exude emote imbue. Impetus intrigue's intuitional intrepid, transcendent translucence and opaque opulence.
Nov 6, 2020
Nov 6, 2020 at 1:43 AM UTC
the view from the high you give me is
dizzying.
i want to zip line down to the depths of you
find a home among the wild things.
the wild thoughts that rock you awake
"do you still like me"
"please don't answer"
rushing out in the same breath.
you're an arbitration for this listless monotony
of being.
the long ebb,
interrupted by your flow.
you're a sinkhole i gladly dive into,
headfirst.
Mar 6, 2017
Mar 6, 2017 at 7:32 PM UTC