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"assessed" poems
In The Prison Of Winter, No Rise, No Set orbit nearly closed, the radio announcer gleefully chirruping, the twittering fool, "only ** graves to X off till                                                spring" the weight of the prior the wait of the more no matter how little yet to come                     too much insufferable having suffered multiple life sentences you snit **** u don't know better, ha, they don't even run                                          concurrently there are no sunsets in the girding grays of harsher enough and words that fail me, are the winners in the winter of the **** tests and hunts, I have successfully                                  failed of course I'm wrong you petulant hobgoblin wringing nyet from me you'll get no concession, **** science, there are no sunsets in the winter and the sunrises, short unsweetened, light-less, less of less, frigid glaring revealers of dead trees and deader                     men maybe in the Rockies, perhaps the Alps, wonderlands photoshopped, pretty lies on the Internet BS posted where I live, wear the wear the weary neath the sweat stink of layers of unbundled choking hands, winter's damage assessed and assessment is never overdue, payable in                                              immediacy heating bills I can't pay, a job that said no more of you, unpretty please, a woman who sorcerer-scarced herself right freaking black magic quick, trust me I have certified verified, me and Nixon, X's on the kitchen calendar, there is daylight, there is mighty night, almighty in long and colorless and nothing in between, but the smog stained slush of                                                     smothered life but definitely no sunrises and no sunsets watched all day from the imprisoning kitchen window which doubles as a **** you                        mirror there are no, not any, you know what, cannot even say them, the pipe dreams of better yet, pipes that have beaten down me and my disassociated senses, signed sealed and now delivered, from the formerly known as The Summer Man
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Mar 14, 2015
Mar 14, 2015 at 9:39 AM UTC
In the Prison of Winter, No Rise, No Set
In The Prison Of Winter, No Rise, No Set orbit nearly closed, the radio announcer gleefully chirruping, the twittering fool, "only ** graves to X off till                                                spring" the weight of the prior the wait of the more no matter how little yet to come                     too much insufferable having suffered multiple life sentences you snit **** u don't know better, ha, they don't even run                                          concurrently there are no sunsets in the girding grays of harsher enough and words that fail me, are the winners in the winter of the **** tests and hunts, I have successfully                                  failed of course I'm wrong you petulant hobgoblin wringing nyet from me you'll get no concession, **** science, there are no sunsets in the winter and the sunrises, short unsweetened, light-less, less of less, frigid glaring revealers of dead trees and deader                     men maybe in the Rockies, perhaps the Alps, wonderlands photoshopped, pretty lies on the Internet BS posted where I live, wear the wear the weary neath the sweat stink of layers of unbundled choking hands, winter's damage assessed and assessment is never overdue, payable in                                              immediacy heating bills I can't pay, a job that said no more of you, unpretty please, a woman who sorcerer-scarced herself right freaking black magic quick, trust me I have certified verified, me and Nixon, X's on the kitchen calendar, there is daylight, there is mighty night, almighty in long and colorless and nothing in between, but the smog stained slush of                                                     smothered life but definitely no sunrises and no sunsets watched all day from the imprisoning kitchen window which doubles as a **** you                        mirror there are no, not any, you know what, cannot even say them, the pipe dreams of better yet, pipes that have beaten down me and my disassociated senses, signed sealed and now delivered, from the formerly known as The Summer Man
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78
Life in Duality and Non-Duality Birth is the first gate. Death is the second gate. Between these two gates lies the path of life travelled by all sentient beings. All are born. All will die. Between death and rebirth lies the unameable state where the next life is chosen, determined by the individual Isnesses stockpile of accumulated Karmas, Good and Bad. All human beings,due to their accumulated Karmas, both Good and Bad, must pass through this unameable state and be reborn into their next life. All beings accumulated Karmas,Good and Bad, are assessed in that state and that assessment determines the next life they are  reborn into. There are NO exceptions to this process ever. Karmas,Good and Bad,are accumulated in each life. Karmas ,Good and Bad,are the result of the morality of each individuals actions. Karma is of three types. Good Karma which ties each individual to the Wheel of Incarnated life,death and rebirth. Bad Karma which ties each individual to the Wheel of Incarnated life,death and rebirth. Neutral Karma is the only way that each individual to can free themselves from the Wheel of Incarnated life,death and rebirth. Both Good and Bad Karmas tie each and every human being to the endless cycle of birth,life,death and rebirth as a human being. Only Neutral Karma can free each individual from the endless cycle of birth,life ,death and rebirth as a human being. Neutral Karma is only realisable through the practise of the Six Fundamental Yogas. Neutral Karma is the only way to erase both Good and Bad Karmas. The practise of the Six Fundamental Yogas increases the BrainBloodVolume to the level of that of  Foetus in the Womb,which causes the Mind and Conditioned Identity to dissolve,temporarily or permanently. Those individuals,female and male equally, whose practises of the Six Fundamental Yogas cause the Mind and Conditioned Identity to dissolve temporarily or permanently will enter into union with the Isness of the Universe as an equal,temporarily or permanently. Those individual human beings who  pass their lives accumulating Good and Bad Karmas are unable to escape from the endless cycle of birth,life,death and rebirth. For the overwhelming majority of human beings who refuse to generate Neutral Karma,by practising the Six Fundamental Yogas,life can only be lived, in the state of Mind created Duality and  Non-Duality. They are unable to enter into the state of union with the Isness of the Universe as an equal. The permanent feature of such a life lived in either Duality or Non-Duality is the ceaseless deep suffering of being separated from the Isness of the Universe as an equal. For those very few human beings who,through the practise of the Six Fundamental Yogas,have dissolved Mind and Conditioned Identity,permanently,life is lived in union with the Isness of the Universe as an equal. Life is lived in the state of Experiential Knowingness which is called Separate and Merged. They live out their last lives in this realm in union with Isness of the Universe as an equal. www.thefournobletruthsrevised.co.uk .
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Sep 14, 2014
Sep 14, 2014 at 1:11 AM UTC
Two Gates and Karma and the Isness of the Universe
Life in Duality and Non-Duality Birth is the first gate. Death is the second gate. Between these two gates lies the path of life travelled by all sentient beings. All are born. All will die. Between death and rebirth lies the unameable state where the next life is chosen, determined by the individual Isnesses stockpile of accumulated Karmas, Good and Bad. All human beings,due to their accumulated Karmas, both Good and Bad, must pass through this unameable state and be reborn into their next life. All beings accumulated Karmas,Good and Bad, are assessed in that state and that assessment determines the next life they are  reborn into. There are NO exceptions to this process ever. Karmas,Good and Bad,are accumulated in each life. Karmas ,Good and Bad,are the result of the morality of each individuals actions. Karma is of three types. Good Karma which ties each individual to the Wheel of Incarnated life,death and rebirth. Bad Karma which ties each individual to the Wheel of Incarnated life,death and rebirth. Neutral Karma is the only way that each individual to can free themselves from the Wheel of Incarnated life,death and rebirth. Both Good and Bad Karmas tie each and every human being to the endless cycle of birth,life,death and rebirth as a human being. Only Neutral Karma can free each individual from the endless cycle of birth,life ,death and rebirth as a human being. Neutral Karma is only realisable through the practise of the Six Fundamental Yogas. Neutral Karma is the only way to erase both Good and Bad Karmas. The practise of the Six Fundamental Yogas increases the BrainBloodVolume to the level of that of  Foetus in the Womb,which causes the Mind and Conditioned Identity to dissolve,temporarily or permanently. Those individuals,female and male equally, whose practises of the Six Fundamental Yogas cause the Mind and Conditioned Identity to dissolve temporarily or permanently will enter into union with the Isness of the Universe as an equal,temporarily or permanently. Those individual human beings who  pass their lives accumulating Good and Bad Karmas are unable to escape from the endless cycle of birth,life,death and rebirth. For the overwhelming majority of human beings who refuse to generate Neutral Karma,by practising the Six Fundamental Yogas,life can only be lived, in the state of Mind created Duality and  Non-Duality. They are unable to enter into the state of union with the Isness of the Universe as an equal. The permanent feature of such a life lived in either Duality or Non-Duality is the ceaseless deep suffering of being separated from the Isness of the Universe as an equal. For those very few human beings who,through the practise of the Six Fundamental Yogas,have dissolved Mind and Conditioned Identity,permanently,life is lived in union with the Isness of the Universe as an equal. Life is lived in the state of Experiential Knowingness which is called Separate and Merged. They live out their last lives in this realm in union with Isness of the Universe as an equal. www.thefournobletruthsrevised.co.uk .
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54
The apartment hasn’t been cleaned for so long and has housed a depressive in it for the same length of time so that there is a glaze of slime-dirt on the floor, made of dried coffee, hot chocolate, maybe some **** or some spillage from a tube of steroid cream to treat an inflammation that never really goes. The rate of ooze changes?. Clean textiles are piled up on the floor, never having been folded, and mix here and there with ***** practical fatpants that make me look like a geologist and white-white cotton blankets that can be washed on HOT with lots of bleach that I purloined from some mentalhealthfacility. The inbox is full of—is bristling with—remonstrances from Programs for the Nondoer—you haven’t filed, haven’t turnstiled, haven’t had your hologram chip assessed by central CENTRAL intelligence, what is wrong with you. Upon stepping outside there is a beat during which I think maybe somewonder might swirl and buoy but no, just wethumid and ***** sidewalks cruddy and Haitians and quasi-Haitians muttering “taxitaxitaxi” in front of their Gypsy conveyances with their dubious certifications. I should go for a ride in one, a dubious passenger for a dubious palanquin. I tried the library but it was too hot and decrepit and too filled with Books For African-Americans, which always ****** me off; are only African-Americans going to read Wright or Douglass or Brooks? Everyone is overrated, anyway, movies and theater and the moribund beat of commerce, and as the dangerous autos pass, sometimes not running you over, you can see morechange in the pockets of the shareholders of BeePee and Iacocca Coach-Wirx. Any friendliness exhibited seems to contain an underovertone of You’re Not Included Whiteboy White ****** Ghost ***** all archaic names I’ve been almost astounded to be called usually while balancing on tiptoe on some lurching, roaring dieselbus, grinding past off-off-off brand groceries that do a dubious business. While making my police report I wink at a sevenyearold boy and I get a lustrous wink back butalas this is not enough to beat back those slurrycolored brainfazes.
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May 8, 2013
May 8, 2013 at 2:09 PM UTC
Today
The apartment hasn’t been cleaned for so long and has housed a depressive in it for the same length of time so that there is a glaze of slime-dirt on the floor, made of dried coffee, hot chocolate, maybe some **** or some spillage from a tube of steroid cream to treat an inflammation that never really goes. The rate of ooze changes?. Clean textiles are piled up on the floor, never having been folded, and mix here and there with ***** practical fatpants that make me look like a geologist and white-white cotton blankets that can be washed on HOT with lots of bleach that I purloined from some mentalhealthfacility. The inbox is full of—is bristling with—remonstrances from Programs for the Nondoer—you haven’t filed, haven’t turnstiled, haven’t had your hologram chip assessed by central CENTRAL intelligence, what is wrong with you. Upon stepping outside there is a beat during which I think maybe somewonder might swirl and buoy but no, just wethumid and ***** sidewalks cruddy and Haitians and quasi-Haitians muttering “taxitaxitaxi” in front of their Gypsy conveyances with their dubious certifications. I should go for a ride in one, a dubious passenger for a dubious palanquin. I tried the library but it was too hot and decrepit and too filled with Books For African-Americans, which always ****** me off; are only African-Americans going to read Wright or Douglass or Brooks? Everyone is overrated, anyway, movies and theater and the moribund beat of commerce, and as the dangerous autos pass, sometimes not running you over, you can see morechange in the pockets of the shareholders of BeePee and Iacocca Coach-Wirx. Any friendliness exhibited seems to contain an underovertone of You’re Not Included Whiteboy White ****** Ghost ***** all archaic names I’ve been almost astounded to be called usually while balancing on tiptoe on some lurching, roaring dieselbus, grinding past off-off-off brand groceries that do a dubious business. While making my police report I wink at a sevenyearold boy and I get a lustrous wink back butalas this is not enough to beat back those slurrycolored brainfazes.
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1
Times are tough and tensions fierce Nothing's rare as love Our world is on the cusp of change So thanks for giving up Oh, you freshman Wiseman Oh, sophomore sage Thank you for sharing the wisdom You've gained in your old age "Our generation has failed" You say, observer that you are "We have nothing to take pride in Like the generations before" Oh, you teenage prophet Your knowledge knows no bounds Our generation is hopeless Or at least that's how it sounds In 14 years of living It seems you have assessed Your generation's future And with great success At 14 you knew equality was a pipe dream of the past Hatred and bigotry are the only things that last You're already too jaded for beauty or romance Your generation failed before it even had a chance So thanks for giving up before you can even drive a car For quitting before you're old enough to vote or go to war Throwing in the towel before you're allowed to drink at the bar Waving the white flag before the battle even starts I had dreams in my generation We had ideas for my generation We did things, in my generation For things we believed would help my generation But my generation is still very young The battle's barely started but that means it can be won So I can only imagine how yours must feel If you've already given up So thanks for the surrender, really I'm sure it's all that could be done Giving up must have been so much harder than Finding something to believe in.
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Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 4:32 PM UTC
Thanks for Giving Up
Some wise men have said, That the universe Is made of strings, tiny, Which vibrate in dimensions ten. Six extra dimensions than The usual three of space And the fourth, which is assessed Using a pendulum Oscillating in nothingness. Strings, like the ones of a guitar, Playing different notes And different symphonies Bosons, fermions, electrons And gravitons to name a few. This annuls racism among sub-atomics Since ultimately they're all threads. Or do you think, a boson Is superior to a fermion 'cause it swings in a different plane Or because one of them is called The God Particle? Strings, oscillating like The alternation of seasons Strings, like the thread of relationship Which stretches and swings Between its highs and lows Strings, oscillating like The advancing and receding waves All we could be is a painting, A hologram, simple 3D information On a two dimensional plane Living our lives and executing functions As the painter intended us to. All we are, are threads Arranged in a particular fashion All we are is a bunch of strings!
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Dec 29, 2014
Dec 29, 2014 at 7:37 AM UTC
String Theory - All we are is a bunch of strings!
My lips are still blisterin, From all that whisperin, that Made me kinda sick, so I Search for my chapstick, but Find in it’s stead, A pen, orn’ry and red, That chooses to be used, And true to my cue, I Seclude and intrude On each and every muse- -ic, -ing, -ment, of my peers. And its clear I have seared Every page I have seen And heard of my herd, Pulled apart at the seems Teeming with teams And half-assessed dreams, that I dreamt But have since beheaded like queens. Yet who is the jester? The joker? The fool? It’s me from your world, your country, your school. It’s me who coos uncool, and caws too rawly And so rarely, Even I’m a bit scared of me No! No fear or fervor is necessary, tremors and Heartstrings tremble headlines on the Daily. Oooh, calm, soothe, my tongue, my soul, my lips, I’ll cool them off but remember all this, or else you May be blistering, and searching, for my lost chapstick, But be lacking in trust, ‘cause I used it all up, Quite a long time before you even lusted that luck.
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Feb 24, 2012
Feb 24, 2012 at 3:04 PM UTC
The Ballad of Gracie Chapstick
She thinks if she travels to foreign lands- even if it is only by dating an ethnic man- that she can scale the high walls of the borders between what she was taught and who she hopes she is. Having followed blindly her predestination programmed life she can’t resist taking squinted peeks through the tiny open slits of vision, hoping to find her true self. “You are losing the faith!” her anxious mother warns as though to do so would be an inherent flaw, not a conscious choice. But Mother’s own faith has been slipping through her hands for the past 30 years, and only that promised salvation can save her from the indiscretions that fill the non-rapturous void left-behind by mister Christian-right-wing-man. Taught well by mother, father, and god, that men must be assessed in a purely logical fashion, “Agree on finances and childrearing and you will have happily ever.” But she feels fake, and does not know how to peel the plastic wrap off her personality. You can see its bindings in the way her eyes implore you and how she clasps her hands on her lap by rote. She is the pink peg in the Hasbro Game of Life car with guilt trip road blocks, detours and poorly folded directional maps. Spinning the wheel in search of tour guides: What should I read? What should I think? But that only gives her new mind instructors. Perhaps instead of foreign languages and foreign lands, the verity lies in the realization that mother probably feels fake too.
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Aug 27, 2013
Aug 27, 2013 at 2:43 PM UTC
Only $16.99 at Toys R Us
a message sent to me: “I know you, Marrano, secret Jew of my heart, weakened by words and strengthened thereby...stout man of words”^ a stranger invasion - his technology, a new combine of words, percentage of perception high, a ferreting scraping of tissue, an abrasion of spoiler alerts that are not hidden but now summoned, despite being unbidden early on a Sabbath morn and at this, my haunted hours, this secret Jew, wanders unexplored yet familiar routes of his well traveled innards, pondering this sweet Shylock Accusation, nay, this confessional truth, but more, the nut of his essence that ‘tis his conviction, his twisted sentencing, the exact lived-level of a hellish Dante verse that shreds the escape of sleep, that is home “weakened by words and strengthened thereby” words forced to the fore, peremptorily summoned, this inconsistency so constant, his battle, where neither victory, loss or truce, are resolutions legitimate, contradictory poems are the tension production of this high wire act of the man, a performance best assessed as one of always slipping, more near-falling failing than cross walking, employing his word emissions as a balancing pole, and balancing is a sometime thing I am not an illusionist - if anything, a disillusionist there are stanzas writ but unspoken that shall not be out-spit here or now; for lengthy answers already exist, in a thousand prior scripts and the thin wire of preservation teaches the value of brevity stout, I think not, man of words,   no doubt, one who is both, a secret Marrano and a Jew, fully exposed, and one who is “weakened by words and strengthened thereby” 12/2/17 The Sabbath 3:33am <•> extra credit reading https://hellopoetry.com/poem/529429/the-true-tale-of-shylocks-pound/
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Dec 2, 2017
Dec 2, 2017 at 1:43 PM UTC
Secret Jew of My Heart
a message sent to me: “I know you, Marrano, secret Jew of my heart, weakened by words and strengthened thereby...stout man of words”^ a stranger invasion - his technology, a new combine of words, percentage of perception high, a ferreting scraping of tissue, an abrasion of spoiler alerts that are not hidden but now summoned, despite being unbidden early on a Sabbath morn and at this, my haunted hours, this secret Jew, wanders unexplored yet familiar routes of his well traveled innards, pondering this sweet Shylock Accusation, nay, this confessional truth, but more, the nut of his essence that ‘tis his conviction, his twisted sentencing, the exact lived-level of a hellish Dante verse that shreds the escape of sleep, that is home “weakened by words and strengthened thereby” words forced to the fore, peremptorily summoned, this inconsistency so constant, his battle, where neither victory, loss or truce, are resolutions legitimate, contradictory poems are the tension production of this high wire act of the man, a performance best assessed as one of always slipping, more near-falling failing than cross walking, employing his word emissions as a balancing pole, and balancing is a sometime thing I am not an illusionist - if anything, a disillusionist there are stanzas writ but unspoken that shall not be out-spit here or now; for lengthy answers already exist, in a thousand prior scripts and the thin wire of preservation teaches the value of brevity stout, I think not, man of words,   no doubt, one who is both, a secret Marrano and a Jew, fully exposed, and one who is “weakened by words and strengthened thereby” 12/2/17 The Sabbath 3:33am <•> extra credit reading https://hellopoetry.com/poem/529429/the-true-tale-of-shylocks-pound/
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43
An ounze of gold, found in a river Assessed as a diamond, swallowed in an ocean When we met in England. All of Aisa is painted in platinum Diamonds in Bankok, too sordid to be seen. If you had rare sight, extinct 2900 BC You may see race in the reflection of platisation And the ability to chip it off is as harmonious as it gets. If not superiority found you, and alimim forefathered you To follow your blessed unique connection Narcissus is not all around you, nor is any other God What exists as greatness is only you. In true great form should be existentialism Instead you think you are untouchable However ignorant I find it When my mother bought me here as a piglet She said I would always stand alone in stoicism.
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Mar 30, 2014
Mar 30, 2014 at 3:23 PM UTC
Overpopulated
I knew an undergraduate at college who spent his days asleep, or drinking beer; he never needed academic knowledge until the day of reckoning drew near, when, as he found his time was growing short, he’d borrow books, or photocopy them, and, downing frantic coffee by the quart, he’d burn the midnight oil, till five a.m. It puzzles me a little when I find the ones who press conversion at the end expecting atheists to change their mind in panic, like our coffee-drinking friend, with fingers crossed and hoping for the best in case this life’s continuously assessed.
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Aug 21, 2010
Aug 21, 2010 at 8:26 AM UTC
Finals
Sunny day in June, the tenth to be exact The horrible day my sister was attacked Beth was in the house, her friend Mark outside She was cleaning,he in the yard kept with pride Beth Anne was on hands and knees scrubbing the floor When she heard real gunshots, at least she swore Snuck to the window and peered out with care On the rocky driveway, saw Mark sprawled out there Been shot three times in his back,lay in his blood Beth saw her ex...with a .38 he stood While terrified, behind the aquarium she ducked Brad blundered in dressed in hunters camouflage- **** Her heart hammering in her ears, bursts of short breaths Saw him through the murky water, planning two deaths Beth Anne cowered down praying to her dear Lord He found her, pulled her up by the hair, fired once more The bullet blew off her ear and traveled on down Collapsed her lungs, in her blood she would drown Brad disappeared and the firing just stopped For Mexico he fled, red ranger with white top Beth dragged herself the complete length of the rug Called 911, shed been shot...head ringing from slug She was determined to live, wouldn't give up the fight But then she passed out endangering her plight Came the Greeley police, fire trucks, EMT's Assessed the situation, perp further he flees They all worked on Mark, too late he was dead One smart responder....woman shot in the head They spreading out rushed the house, found my sis Beth was unresponsive, victim almost missed Speeding to Weld County General, sirens blaring Got her in the ER cut off what she was wearing O.R. She went with damage extensive Not much hope, docs and staff apprehensive For many hours they sawed, pinned, stitched and closed The ICU threat of infection posed Her body and face were unrecognizable Family stood believing the impossible Appeared an Adonis with blonde hair and blue eyes Talk of afterlife evidently not lies Her guardian angel told Beth he was there Would appear much later, in death they would share
0
Sep 14, 2013
Sep 14, 2013 at 6:47 PM UTC
The Monster In Camouflage
Sunny day in June, the tenth to be exact The horrible day my sister was attacked Beth was in the house, her friend Mark outside She was cleaning,he in the yard kept with pride Beth Anne was on hands and knees scrubbing the floor When she heard real gunshots, at least she swore Snuck to the window and peered out with care On the rocky driveway, saw Mark sprawled out there Been shot three times in his back,lay in his blood Beth saw her ex...with a .38 he stood While terrified, behind the aquarium she ducked Brad blundered in dressed in hunters camouflage- **** Her heart hammering in her ears, bursts of short breaths Saw him through the murky water, planning two deaths Beth Anne cowered down praying to her dear Lord He found her, pulled her up by the hair, fired once more The bullet blew off her ear and traveled on down Collapsed her lungs, in her blood she would drown Brad disappeared and the firing just stopped For Mexico he fled, red ranger with white top Beth dragged herself the complete length of the rug Called 911, shed been shot...head ringing from slug She was determined to live, wouldn't give up the fight But then she passed out endangering her plight Came the Greeley police, fire trucks, EMT's Assessed the situation, perp further he flees They all worked on Mark, too late he was dead One smart responder....woman shot in the head They spreading out rushed the house, found my sis Beth was unresponsive, victim almost missed Speeding to Weld County General, sirens blaring Got her in the ER cut off what she was wearing O.R. She went with damage extensive Not much hope, docs and staff apprehensive For many hours they sawed, pinned, stitched and closed The ICU threat of infection posed Her body and face were unrecognizable Family stood believing the impossible Appeared an Adonis with blonde hair and blue eyes Talk of afterlife evidently not lies Her guardian angel told Beth he was there Would appear much later, in death they would share
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42
From over a period of time From time to time Again it has been assessed and proved A loss of focus not only will cause delay, but also result in failure Keep a focus on your goal Awaken your mind Activate your senses Mobilize your thought process Focus on your goal. Obstacles have always been there in everyone's life They are part of everyone's life Dealing with obstacles enriches the level of experience Skills are honed over a period of time Same are put to test when overcoming an obstacle Time and again it has been proved that time is the most critical factor in dealing with an obstacle A lot of time gets consumed when tackling an obstacle When dealing with an obstacle always be sure about yourself Be firmly grounded No matter what happens Even when things get out of control As each and everything moves towards an extreme end. Recall, recollect and remember everything From the past and from prior Be optimistic about yourself Don't give up Never lose hope Learn and remember Keep it in mind Dealing with obstacles is a part of reaching towards goal. A lot of things come into focus when handling things in routine life When we miss something We learn from it When we skip out something We learn from it As and when a mistake is made We learn from it Learning is a continuous process Learning never stops We learn new things and new ways Learning has always remained a continuous process. Shaping the future does add the much needed zinger and spice to routine life. Since the process of learning continues it brings into focus many more new things A few amongst them include progress, growth and reach Each amongst the three has got a definite role to play in the present and also in future. The outside world is a fast changing place Different from all that we know As and when you play a game Important, you know rules of the game Over a period of time things change Then comes the right moment of time Something for which you had been eagerly waiting for quite long Having learnt from your own prior experience Having honed your skills Now you really know very well as to how to play the game Now following the rules becomes part of your habit Still a lot of things remain The goal is still far away Far, far away When it comes to winning Make sure you have got both experience and expertise Experience and expertise works as a contrast When to use the right element In what ratio, depends on need of the hour. When the right thing takes place at the right moment of time From then onwards nature of things differ Gradually everything starts happening in the right direction Definitely time has a vital role to play in everyone’s life. Learn as much as possible Learn from the highs and lows of life From the mistakes of your life Learn from the experiences of the past Imbibe as much as possible Once on firm grounds, then move ahead Make it a habit then and always remember Keep it in mind As and when you play a game, whenever you play a game Winning is not an intention It’s winning for which you are playing It's your aim. Give your best to achieve your aim As and when you win, Then, From then onwards Make it a habit of achieving your aim.
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Aug 17, 2015
Aug 17, 2015 at 11:00 PM UTC
Winning then Becomes a Habit
From over a period of time From time to time Again it has been assessed and proved A loss of focus not only will cause delay, but also result in failure Keep a focus on your goal Awaken your mind Activate your senses Mobilize your thought process Focus on your goal. Obstacles have always been there in everyone's life They are part of everyone's life Dealing with obstacles enriches the level of experience Skills are honed over a period of time Same are put to test when overcoming an obstacle Time and again it has been proved that time is the most critical factor in dealing with an obstacle A lot of time gets consumed when tackling an obstacle When dealing with an obstacle always be sure about yourself Be firmly grounded No matter what happens Even when things get out of control As each and everything moves towards an extreme end. Recall, recollect and remember everything From the past and from prior Be optimistic about yourself Don't give up Never lose hope Learn and remember Keep it in mind Dealing with obstacles is a part of reaching towards goal. A lot of things come into focus when handling things in routine life When we miss something We learn from it When we skip out something We learn from it As and when a mistake is made We learn from it Learning is a continuous process Learning never stops We learn new things and new ways Learning has always remained a continuous process. Shaping the future does add the much needed zinger and spice to routine life. Since the process of learning continues it brings into focus many more new things A few amongst them include progress, growth and reach Each amongst the three has got a definite role to play in the present and also in future. The outside world is a fast changing place Different from all that we know As and when you play a game Important, you know rules of the game Over a period of time things change Then comes the right moment of time Something for which you had been eagerly waiting for quite long Having learnt from your own prior experience Having honed your skills Now you really know very well as to how to play the game Now following the rules becomes part of your habit Still a lot of things remain The goal is still far away Far, far away When it comes to winning Make sure you have got both experience and expertise Experience and expertise works as a contrast When to use the right element In what ratio, depends on need of the hour. When the right thing takes place at the right moment of time From then onwards nature of things differ Gradually everything starts happening in the right direction Definitely time has a vital role to play in everyone’s life. Learn as much as possible Learn from the highs and lows of life From the mistakes of your life Learn from the experiences of the past Imbibe as much as possible Once on firm grounds, then move ahead Make it a habit then and always remember Keep it in mind As and when you play a game, whenever you play a game Winning is not an intention It’s winning for which you are playing It's your aim. Give your best to achieve your aim As and when you win, Then, From then onwards Make it a habit of achieving your aim.
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1. There once was a couple of cats Who engaged in continuous spats.           The result was a tie           When each scratched out an eye – An old-Biblical *** for a tat! The cats awoke bleeding and weak And half-seeing the havoc they'd wreaked           They discarded their clothes,           Their backsides to expose – A new-Biblical turning of cheek! 2. There once was a man, oh so brave, Who would sleep in a hole, called a grave ...           Well, he being the host           To so many a ghost, He arranged a big bash, called a rave 3. In days of Neanderthal knaves When the men ruled like kings in their caves           And not being too keen           About keeping them clean ... Often took on some wives, called them slaves 4. There once was a man with a stave Overseeing a holy enclave ...           Well, maintaining a grin           While absolving the sin, He assessed wicked tales and forgave 5. There once was a monk with a wave Who desired a head with a shave ...           Well, the barber was such           That she cut back too much Thereby leaving his globus concave 6. There once was a man in the nave, Although pious he could not behave ...           But they paid him no mind,           ’Cause his name was maligned, Being simply a sinner to save 7. There once was a man quite depraved A voluptuous life was thus craved ...           Well, continuous sin           Ended doing him in – On his tombstone they carved ‘Misbehaved’ 8. Antoine is a Vampire Ghoul, Quite barbaric, bloodthirsty and cruel,           With a fang in your throat           He’ll **** slowly and gloat With a smile as you whimper and mewl. 9. There once was a raven haired Shrink Who had orange Juice Tequilas to drink.           Well her scarlet souled Beau           ****** her tinted red Toe And she paled when he tickled her Pink. 10. There once was a travelling sage Who yet lived to a very old age.           Well, becoming quite senile,           With problems (yes, ****** He packed his wee trunk in a rage. 11. There once was a Nun and a Druid Exchanging some ****** fluid,           When along strode the Father           Who heard all the bother, Lost stickum while coming  unglu..ed.
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Mar 25, 2013
Mar 25, 2013 at 1:08 PM UTC
Lotsa Limericks... From Bad to Verse
1. There once was a couple of cats Who engaged in continuous spats.           The result was a tie           When each scratched out an eye – An old-Biblical *** for a tat! The cats awoke bleeding and weak And half-seeing the havoc they'd wreaked           They discarded their clothes,           Their backsides to expose – A new-Biblical turning of cheek! 2. There once was a man, oh so brave, Who would sleep in a hole, called a grave ...           Well, he being the host           To so many a ghost, He arranged a big bash, called a rave 3. In days of Neanderthal knaves When the men ruled like kings in their caves           And not being too keen           About keeping them clean ... Often took on some wives, called them slaves 4. There once was a man with a stave Overseeing a holy enclave ...           Well, maintaining a grin           While absolving the sin, He assessed wicked tales and forgave 5. There once was a monk with a wave Who desired a head with a shave ...           Well, the barber was such           That she cut back too much Thereby leaving his globus concave 6. There once was a man in the nave, Although pious he could not behave ...           But they paid him no mind,           ’Cause his name was maligned, Being simply a sinner to save 7. There once was a man quite depraved A voluptuous life was thus craved ...           Well, continuous sin           Ended doing him in – On his tombstone they carved ‘Misbehaved’ 8. Antoine is a Vampire Ghoul, Quite barbaric, bloodthirsty and cruel,           With a fang in your throat           He’ll **** slowly and gloat With a smile as you whimper and mewl. 9. There once was a raven haired Shrink Who had orange Juice Tequilas to drink.           Well her scarlet souled Beau           ****** her tinted red Toe And she paled when he tickled her Pink. 10. There once was a travelling sage Who yet lived to a very old age.           Well, becoming quite senile,           With problems (yes, ****** He packed his wee trunk in a rage. 11. There once was a Nun and a Druid Exchanging some ****** fluid,           When along strode the Father           Who heard all the bother, Lost stickum while coming  unglu..ed.
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She evaluated, assessed and condemned the mind, and slights of tongue but never attempted to glimpse inside my heart which always swelled and heaved. Those early weekend mornings spent alone   while they slept and the sun climbed broadly in the sky were only safe because of the proximity of their souls, her soul. Maybe the outside doesn't always reflect what it can or should or doesn't show but feels in vast measure the way way a child feels he's being carried. Now idle winds blow seething to be old and free of the minds own burdensome choices and rhetoric about the ice never again getting to melt. Never being freed to move from solid state through flowability, then wind its way with out weight down the road toward yet another chance at redemption.
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Oct 9, 2010
Oct 9, 2010 at 3:45 AM UTC
Saturday Morning
A Prof. Ed. subject – Curriculum Development The “total learning experience” subject to assessment Assessed, Hidden, Learned & other types Curriculum is designed for our school lives This mechanism must be evaluated In a school to be accredited Curriculum undergoes planning, implementation & evaluation It experiences innovations as education goes on! -04/01/2017 (Dumarao) *PEN Poems
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Sep 28, 2019
Sep 28, 2019 at 9:58 PM UTC
Learning Curriculum Development
By: Cedric McClester How many heartbeats are left? For someone who created The nation’s greatest theft By stealing a national election Leaving others bereft How many heartbeats ‘til death? How many heartbeats are left? For someone who is heartless Or lacks empathy at best Just how many would you Venture to guess How many heartbeats ‘til death? How many heartbeats are left? I’m not just asking in jest How long will his heart Continue to compress Before it stops beating in his chest How many heartbeats ‘til death? How many heartbeats are left? I pose this strange question Just merely to suggest That the exact number Can’t be assessed How many heartbeats ‘til death? Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2017. All rights reserved.
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Apr 4, 2017
Apr 4, 2017 at 7:22 AM UTC
HOW MANY HEARTBEATS ARE LEFT?
My first cigarette was at twelve years old, under the climbing frame, after my turn on the monkey bars. My mate told me not to do it- he tried to take it off me but was too late. I’ve been trying to quit ever since. Soon after, that little climber discovered cider, yearned for something wider and ended up with alcohol poisoning by the end of the year. My first stand-up gig was Lee Mack. I was 13. I sat right at the back on the balcony and revelled in the happy faces below me. Ending with a slow motion impression of Eric Morecambe, I could’ve sworn it was the fastest hour of my life. I can’t believe I was So naïve. When I sat my first exam at sixteen, an hour seemed a minute. Crash forward to A-levels and I was being examined in a therapist’s office- how the tables had turned. Ticking boxes to be assessed and there’s no way I can pass this test because a high score can only mean very bad things. How can life be so virile, yet so lacking and sterile? I was told I’d find myself at uni But I’ve ended up losing myself at twenty.
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Jun 25, 2024
Jun 25, 2024 at 10:20 AM UTC
Laminar flow
The President assessed the scene and gave a terse command. His caddy grabbed his putter and put it in Obama’s hand. The breeze as not a factor The air was hot and still. The hole, a dozen feet away, blocked by a small windmill. Barrack needed this putt for par. to help him tie the score. Boehner got a hole in one in the clown face just before. Obama gave his ball a stroke- it veered wide, an inch or two. It’s a pity folks are watching Or he’d lie about that too. That he should be reduced to this; Playing at the “Pirate’s cove. The sequester is a right wing plot likely dreamed up by Karl Rove.
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Jun 5, 2013
Jun 5, 2013 at 7:53 AM UTC
King Putt
Lady karma shine your light on me here I am down here way down here robed in tattered clothes bleeding hands a broken nose stumbling stuttering muttering mumbling shine your light on me Lady karma shine your light on me Near to bursting seam-less ream-less close to losing everything my job my friends my mind as yet radically un-cleansed just a step away from the edge balancing on the precipice of the wedge lost in the darkest recess the corridors of the mind drunk on thorns the horns of plenty that you find left empty and bereft I failed the test lady karma shine your light Lady karma shine your light on me I was re-assessed more likely just depressed than a danger to any stranger and the homelessness I faced with quickening pace seemed at the time like ill gotten gain and luckless fate combined and yet it faded gracefully in the shadow cast by the midday sun it would have to wait and I go back to where this all began I felt your warmth around me wrap around me shine your light on me lady karma shine your light on me.
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Feb 14, 2014
Feb 14, 2014 at 2:42 PM UTC
Lady Karma
On the planet where I live gambling and narcissism are recognized for the diseases they are racism and homophobia that's just people being people Here having a conversation with some is battle mental exhibition bouts with jaw juggernauts most only listen for their position to pounce Never hearing a thing favors and helping hands well laid traps and plans sewing deeply rooted weeds intended to bind over time your worth is assessed by how much value you can acquire for other animals are measured greater than people it makes sense People have yet to meet or even be human Here I'm not the type of Blackman you see on TV six feet tall maybe taller over three hundred pounds a well-read autodidact master of many things On the planet where I live that is considered a threat Here the goal is to populate Mars before the pollution on Earth becomes inhospitable to the people of Earth after all Mars is ours for the taking Here you're supposed to mow your neighbor's lawn while your back yard is overgrown while your kitchen burns down On the planet where I live all of this is common knowledge some say sense It's spoken of and considered immoral and deplorable Here if you exist in any different or other way you're labeled one of the crazies and shunned you’re supposed to know its wrong not admit to it © Christopher F. Brown 2015
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Aug 4, 2015
Aug 4, 2015 at 5:42 PM UTC
A Parsec Away
The steed is rested The charioteer is experienced The track is known Randomness rejoices Preparing to attack The charioteer’s skills are about to be assessed By the hand’s strength By the mind’s clarity But above all By the smile That tames the unexpected This chariot race Has just become exciting!
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Dec 2, 2012
Dec 2, 2012 at 5:00 PM UTC
“Taraxippus” (from "Teratology")
I had a chat to someone today who really went about it the wrong way. I dont think it very sane or fair to give a credit where the act lay bare. I am someone whose opinion I think highly of, and rest assured, I am interested in what I think of. but to call a ***** a ***** and dig a hole with it for yourself is not a wise thing to do. though the wise have been thought crazy and the crazy wise the fool is the fool in any position naive or wise because a what a fool believes the wise always questions what he sees. a fair and valid comment is not cause for defamation, defamation though has cause and stains by association and I will suffer none of it because I just couldn't give a **** think of it what you think of it. Making of false, derogatory statement(s) in private or public about a person's business practices, character, financial status, morals, or reputation. Oral defamation is a slander whereas printed or published defamation is a libel. The plaintiff must prove that the defamation was communicated to someone other than him or her. And, if the statement is not obviously defamatory, it must be shown that it carries a defamatory meaning (see innuendo) and that reasonable people would think that it refers to the plaintiff. In case of unintentional defamation, the defendant may mitigate damages or escape liability by offering an apology. Defamation with malicious intent (see malice) invalidates the defense of fair comment and qualified privilege. Defamation that imputes a criminal offense punishable with imprisonment, is usually a sufficient ground for a court action even in the absence of a proof of special damages. Under the UK law, defamation damages are assessed by a jury and not a judge.    Read more: http://www.businessdictionary.com/definition/defamation.html#ixzz2tg2X8Lya
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Feb 18, 2014
Feb 18, 2014 at 7:48 AM UTC
personal interest
I had a chat to someone today who really went about it the wrong way. I dont think it very sane or fair to give a credit where the act lay bare. I am someone whose opinion I think highly of, and rest assured, I am interested in what I think of. but to call a ***** a ***** and dig a hole with it for yourself is not a wise thing to do. though the wise have been thought crazy and the crazy wise the fool is the fool in any position naive or wise because a what a fool believes the wise always questions what he sees. a fair and valid comment is not cause for defamation, defamation though has cause and stains by association and I will suffer none of it because I just couldn't give a **** think of it what you think of it. Making of false, derogatory statement(s) in private or public about a person's business practices, character, financial status, morals, or reputation. Oral defamation is a slander whereas printed or published defamation is a libel. The plaintiff must prove that the defamation was communicated to someone other than him or her. And, if the statement is not obviously defamatory, it must be shown that it carries a defamatory meaning (see innuendo) and that reasonable people would think that it refers to the plaintiff. In case of unintentional defamation, the defendant may mitigate damages or escape liability by offering an apology. Defamation with malicious intent (see malice) invalidates the defense of fair comment and qualified privilege. Defamation that imputes a criminal offense punishable with imprisonment, is usually a sufficient ground for a court action even in the absence of a proof of special damages. Under the UK law, defamation damages are assessed by a jury and not a judge.    Read more: http://www.businessdictionary.com/definition/defamation.html#ixzz2tg2X8Lya
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These hands are now the handlers of dangerous undress they tie you in without a rope by swooning hearts caress. The union now's been slowly made, situation assessed, and so they glide unto your thighs to hold you while you rest. as they proceed to slowly tease the goosebumps to your breast they do withhold a secret code, just masked with clever jest the way they play upon your frays of hair when lips are met. the subtle call to forfeit all, your heart lies in my chest.
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Oct 27, 2012
Oct 27, 2012 at 10:13 AM UTC
my hands
There was a certain face today that did not return my usual gaze into the mirror. She was a faded, sore woman; one who saw the world through dull eyes and assessed her surroundings amongst a static hiss of white noise. She followed my gaze only vaguely, her frame worn thin as pale, sallow skin clung loosely to the bone. Behind a frayed curtain of an unkempt mane, perhaps there was the smallest trace of a youthful beauty hidden behind her decrepit, hardened shell, a trace that exposed itself discreetly and seldom. I told myself in vain that I did not know this worn woman, that the dull gaze she stared with under no circumstances belonged to my own face. Surely, I thought in a mindset detached, This woman’s misery is mere stranger to my own. Stranger. The word comforted me, knowing that this wretched, coarse woman, was nothing to me but a stranger, staring coldly from the mirror so grimly into my eyes.
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Jul 5, 2010
Jul 5, 2010 at 5:56 PM UTC
The Stranger (prose)