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"befoul" poems
Kathmandu a quaint, romantic name, had wanted to go there now it is a dream. Nepal, this small mountain country often used a golf ball between big countries for purely selfish reasons. Thousands of people killed and classical palaces are reduced dust covering mountain tops as a fog of sadness Cry my lovely I can only offer you friendship. But for the tourists who evacuated on Himalayas’ sacred top. Filling valleys with empty cans of beef and toilet paper flapping in the wind, I have little empathy rich tourists that had to bestride and befoul a holy mountain.
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May 22, 2015
May 22, 2015 at 4:00 AM UTC
Nepal
The world today is as it's always been, filled with greed, death and war. I sadly reflect that it get's worse and worse and through my heart it tore. Soon everything must come to an end and so must the pain, blood, and gore. I hope someday Christ will come and take away the pain the earth cannot stand anymore. People are greedy and vile and I weep when I see them befoul the earth, stop it! I implore. Alas! With a heavy heart I realize they will not, but ignore.
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Jun 9, 2016
Jun 9, 2016 at 8:41 PM UTC
The Earth's Pains
The children of today befoul Their grandparents with disrespect And nurture their own children With television shows and neglect. They don’t teach children to be kind And fail to teach them not to cheat. So they grow up morally blind Expecting to be paid to be sweet. These kids were raised defectively That hits it on the nose. When you treat them so neglectfully That’s just the way it goes. They grow thinking they can get Everything they desire. And when they fail to get their way They set the place on fire. Now we have generations of them Like hogs on the living room couch Shoving their faces greedily Like they’re a royal grouch. They ***** if they think someone Is getting more than they do. But ask them to vote differently And they whine they don’t want to. They never notice that they dress Like they did as in their teens. Football jersies, shoes untied Baseball caps and old jeans. They say the same old crap They used to say, not much new About girls, and the car they drive And what they’d like to do. These kids were raised defectively That hits it on the nose. When you treat them so neglectfully That’s just the way it goes. They grow thinking they can have A life of nothing but fun. And when they fail to get their way They go and get a gun. Ask them names of those people Got elected to represent. Most of them barely know The name of the President. They don’t vote, they don’t go Even so far as the local PTA. This is the American voter The kind we put up with today. These kids were raised defectively That hits it on the nose. When you treat them so neglectfully That’s just the way it goes. They grow thinking they can get What other people own. It’s like these losers found a way To live in the Twilight Zone
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Dec 3, 2015
Dec 3, 2015 at 10:26 PM UTC
QUAGMIRE
The children of today befoul Their grandparents with disrespect And nurture their own children With television shows and neglect. They don’t teach children to be kind And fail to teach them not to cheat. So they grow up morally blind Expecting to be paid to be sweet. These kids were raised defectively That hits it on the nose. When you treat them so neglectfully That’s just the way it goes. They grow thinking they can get Everything they desire. And when they fail to get their way They set the place on fire. Now we have generations of them Like hogs on the living room couch Shoving their faces greedily Like they’re a royal grouch. They ***** if they think someone Is getting more than they do. But ask them to vote differently And they whine they don’t want to. They never notice that they dress Like they did as in their teens. Football jersies, shoes untied Baseball caps and old jeans. They say the same old crap They used to say, not much new About girls, and the car they drive And what they’d like to do. These kids were raised defectively That hits it on the nose. When you treat them so neglectfully That’s just the way it goes. They grow thinking they can have A life of nothing but fun. And when they fail to get their way They go and get a gun. Ask them names of those people Got elected to represent. Most of them barely know The name of the President. They don’t vote, they don’t go Even so far as the local PTA. This is the American voter The kind we put up with today. These kids were raised defectively That hits it on the nose. When you treat them so neglectfully That’s just the way it goes. They grow thinking they can get What other people own. It’s like these losers found a way To live in the Twilight Zone
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56
Tainted havoc ensue from our imminent destruction. We befoul each other's affinity with the ruin of our past lives. Together we spoil, destroy, and infect the air that devours us. Coexisting is not an option between You, Me, and Sympathy.
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Dec 18, 2014
Dec 18, 2014 at 3:47 PM UTC
Engulf My Empathy
there are things in this world that aren't ******* fair like children who believe they have ADD and avoid dealing with what they really have. like mothers who tell their children lies about fathers like children who adopt monsters that don't belong to them personas that they try on like sparkly ballet flats writing poems about being abused and having ADD and a ****** life some children are wrong. and i only know because i am their sister children learn to tell lies it's not their fault i must remember not to blame them but it is hard there are people in this world who were truly abused and you, sisters befoul their anguish with your wolf-cries. i will never know how many times i must say this but you weren't ******* abused and you don't have ADD and your mother is a ******* liar i love you both but i cannot listen any more.
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Oct 8, 2013
Oct 8, 2013 at 5:37 PM UTC
i cannot read any more of my little sisters' poetry.
Truth, Men stop selling thy empresses to magazines and cheap sell outs!! Truth, Women , stop giving in to buyouts where thy men make you cheap dieouts and slaves to them!!! Truth, Men stop putting grenades in young lads hands, where thou bury your dead in thy sand, Only waiting for thine next war!!!! Truth!! Kings and queens find your amour', not with currency you have collected!!! Truth, Both love each other not as objects but as one unprotected!!!! Truth, Men,  stop thy iccusion of thine own brothers, for respect one another, they are thou, and thou are they! Truth, Mothers, waddle/thine children, Don't grieve for today!! Truth,   Fathers, show thine daughters makeup does not make beauty, Nor can any fashion bring her rubies, for she's that ruby herself!!! Truth, Sibling lend thy hand, make voice with thy stand, If one screams will thou help? Truth, Leaders, do not befoul thy archaic province, make thine sons and daughters queens and kings of all challice, Let them grow in purest reverance!!!!! Truth, men stop thine own lusting, for doth not thou have a wife? Truth, Women don't thou to? Truth, Babies grow up to hear thine folks, for your skin by them was cloaked, Didst thou not know obeying is the greatest commandment? Truth, Boyfriends,husbands and men treat thy dame as if there's no more, call her your mi amour', not thy slave to fix your menu, and clean thine own dish!! Truth, Dreamers dream , and poor ones wish, For one day you shall rulleth hand and fist to thy rich!!!! TRUTH!!!!!
0
May 16, 2015
May 16, 2015 at 7:34 AM UTC
factuality
Truth, Men stop selling thy empresses to magazines and cheap sell outs!! Truth, Women , stop giving in to buyouts where thy men make you cheap dieouts and slaves to them!!! Truth, Men stop putting grenades in young lads hands, where thou bury your dead in thy sand, Only waiting for thine next war!!!! Truth!! Kings and queens find your amour', not with currency you have collected!!! Truth, Both love each other not as objects but as one unprotected!!!! Truth, Men,  stop thy iccusion of thine own brothers, for respect one another, they are thou, and thou are they! Truth, Mothers, waddle/thine children, Don't grieve for today!! Truth,   Fathers, show thine daughters makeup does not make beauty, Nor can any fashion bring her rubies, for she's that ruby herself!!! Truth, Sibling lend thy hand, make voice with thy stand, If one screams will thou help? Truth, Leaders, do not befoul thy archaic province, make thine sons and daughters queens and kings of all challice, Let them grow in purest reverance!!!!! Truth, men stop thine own lusting, for doth not thou have a wife? Truth, Women don't thou to? Truth, Babies grow up to hear thine folks, for your skin by them was cloaked, Didst thou not know obeying is the greatest commandment? Truth, Boyfriends,husbands and men treat thy dame as if there's no more, call her your mi amour', not thy slave to fix your menu, and clean thine own dish!! Truth, Dreamers dream , and poor ones wish, For one day you shall rulleth hand and fist to thy rich!!!! TRUTH!!!!!
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35
degrade me because you love me infect me with your cancer befoul my integrity because i’ll do anything for attention disillusioned with my charming grip you lie awake thinking of ways to let me down easy you won’t be getting rid of me because it’s me im the malignancy
0
Sep 30, 2020
Sep 30, 2020 at 5:56 PM UTC
qué rica
In nights most darkest hours when all the worlds asleep I leave my shadowed stage and gently start to weep I cleanse my soul with saline drops to befoul it yet again in front of atlas and his wait the world and all its men my mask grows painful a burden in my chest fake a life I never knew removed, and I forget the rest And sheltered in the alleyways in the scourge of all man kind there I felt your touch as your hand slipped into mine the prince of the sun then span his golden wings and took me from my misery and all those other things and now in midnight hours I lay bundled in your arms after you threw away my mask and kissed away my qualms and now I shine the brightest stars and I play the play for you you became my audience the only bliss I knew
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Oct 19, 2013
Oct 19, 2013 at 8:17 AM UTC
Play
we come To your town (Hungry) !    ?    ! .~~ I mean : ...We know what we are being trained to do ... to gun them down ! ;: ( all them hungry kids ) /// THATS OUR WORLD YOU KNOW   THE ONE THAT WE ARE CERTAINLY TOO POWERLESS TO CHANGE WE SAY CONSTANTLY KNOWING WE ARE FULL OF **** BUT WE SAY IT ANYWAY BECAUSE WE ARE SCARED )) By the fires and campfire Creating false stories to become false memories To become a false religion about a false god We sit and watch pure and total DOOM encircle the whole planet and polute the whole universe And befoul the very heart of the creation And we accept it all so passively But crying all the while )) Me I think we should all probably reconsider what should  be our Plans  for a tomorrow That is today seen as a begger limping in With an an absolutely confused Look on his face !!!! I really feel it's the HOUR When the true and natural unity of WE THE PEOPLE assert the simple truth of love And our unique sovereignty As the PROTECTORS OF THE UNIVERSE and the GUARDIANS OF ALL CHILDREN instead on being the ones Standing here before them As they stagger From the orphanages And approach The rich man's horde :: Standing there Ready to gun them down
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Aug 20, 2015
Aug 20, 2015 at 2:23 AM UTC
.. from out the orphanages
A street is a sight to behold! At first glance, you may disagree. For, it seems so cacophonous and befoul, One may prefer to flee. But once you beat ignorance, Then you begin to see, That the sight that just seemed awful! Is now filling you with sheer glee. The noise starts to fade, And a certain music ascends, And all the traffic starts dancing To the beats of some indiscernible band! And while you are being awestruck By this momentous encounter, If you pause, you’ll again, realize that the grandeur of this show Is greater than what you see. For it is “The grand show of the street” And every denizen of or visitor to The city has been a part of it. Every one of them, including you. It starts in the morning, With performances from Chirpy children, sonant hawkers, The devotees, the walkers And the other morning birds. Then slowly the vehicles enter Adding their own tunes and rhythm. The show reaches its first peak, just before noon Then it steady descends but just does not goes numb. Then as the evening approaches, The music again rises, The dance intensifies. And the glamour of lights, adds To the splendor of the show And then slowly the music descends to null, And the city takes a bow. But the show does not end here, For, it never does. As the lights go dim And the night departs, The street is ready For the next part. One can be a critique, and complain, That street is a sad place, Full of pain and disdain. Or one may become an admirer Of the everlasting spree And enjoy this pure bliss, That being a part of this show is.
0
Sep 3, 2017
Sep 3, 2017 at 8:49 PM UTC
The grand show of the street
A street is a sight to behold! At first glance, you may disagree. For, it seems so cacophonous and befoul, One may prefer to flee. But once you beat ignorance, Then you begin to see, That the sight that just seemed awful! Is now filling you with sheer glee. The noise starts to fade, And a certain music ascends, And all the traffic starts dancing To the beats of some indiscernible band! And while you are being awestruck By this momentous encounter, If you pause, you’ll again, realize that the grandeur of this show Is greater than what you see. For it is “The grand show of the street” And every denizen of or visitor to The city has been a part of it. Every one of them, including you. It starts in the morning, With performances from Chirpy children, sonant hawkers, The devotees, the walkers And the other morning birds. Then slowly the vehicles enter Adding their own tunes and rhythm. The show reaches its first peak, just before noon Then it steady descends but just does not goes numb. Then as the evening approaches, The music again rises, The dance intensifies. And the glamour of lights, adds To the splendor of the show And then slowly the music descends to null, And the city takes a bow. But the show does not end here, For, it never does. As the lights go dim And the night departs, The street is ready For the next part. One can be a critique, and complain, That street is a sad place, Full of pain and disdain. Or one may become an admirer Of the everlasting spree And enjoy this pure bliss, That being a part of this show is.
Continue reading...
51
If you'd stop Feeling So god ****** sorry For yourself You'd have nothin to Feel sorry about -- And your suffering (Which is totally imaginary Anyway) Would cease But -- then what? -- You'd be free to act responsibly Which is what you fear --- So you "suffer" loudly And become ugly -- And befoul the world With dead love And it's agony
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Jul 17, 2013
Jul 17, 2013 at 12:20 AM UTC
Yeah so what?
The dispiriting prison bar is now your frontier, What left your character drowned in blood, The environment draws you with fear, Your living corpse plunge to the befoul scud. The critics, the juries, virtually invisible enemies, You need to hear their loathe in the darkness, Around all these hopeless entities, It's a woeful depiction of inferno. They got knives of deception and treachery, As you turn your back, they stab, you kneel, Wish you die in a blink, yet torture gradually, You have entirely deviated the vocation to heal. Victims learn from mistakes, You never did, They will hurt you again for all sakes, But then you realize you're stuck amid.
0
Jan 19, 2019
Jan 19, 2019 at 1:31 AM UTC
THE MELODY OF AN OUBLIETTE
))(( ))(( 0-------- x -------0 O O u • lightning !!!!!! ( the storm ) The night bleeds life thru tiny cracks and crevices Leaking thru tenemented slum cities Into the white world • We watch the bankers play the money game Stating with fake numbers who shall rule and enslave // // We are merely rats somehow We are hardly even mere spectators anymore //:::::// Johnny at the bar with Mary the ***** ! • Even love gotta be paid for ! ///// The rancid stench of decay Poisoned attitudes befoul the very air We try to breathe And war like talk mars the remnants Of our sensibilities • I love you / she said • I know what you mean ////// The brittle fragile day / still We gotta start all over again •• From out the ashes ! Escape the ugly garden ! On the journey Ameba to man ! /////// Get down !!!!!! • Life Seeping thru the cracks and crevices of Broken down bodies in the tenemented Slum cities Of the white world .......... We Come to see the senseless Sensitivity We bare And we dare thusly to come awake On a new day in a new world
0
Dec 31, 2014
Dec 31, 2014 at 5:09 AM UTC
are you here ?
I looked at what I'd done so far. I didn't know how to finish my drawing and, frankly, after observation, I didn't want to. Of course, I would finish it though. Oh yes, I would befoul my already horrid drawing. Instead of completing the line I was on currently, I drew upwards and scribbled through the entire thing. By this time, I was highly disappointed and annoyed. Yet again have I failed to create decent artwork. So now here I sit, mumbling incomplete thoughts and glaring at my ruined paper. I took it upon myself to tear up the retched thing and throw it away.
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Nov 6, 2016
Nov 6, 2016 at 6:35 PM UTC
Untitled
A mountainous town Lalitpur is a charming town among high mountains the air is pure; no need to take a shower every day. I was going there but, in Rome, I lost my passport had to drive home to get a new one, which took time and losing money. Nepal is a small country often used as a tennis ball by bigger countries in the region, for conflicts killing thousands and condensing palaces to dust covering mountains into a clock of sadness Cry my lovely, I can only offer my understanding when tourists evacuate on your sacred top filling valleys with empty tunny tins, condoms and the toilet papers flapping in the wind. For tourists falling off cliffs, I only offer contempt tourists that bestride and befoul a holy mountain.
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Jul 3, 2022
Jul 3, 2022 at 9:31 AM UTC
a mountain town