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"billing" poems
Depression, is a concession of unstable chemicals made from the memories of cruel intentions, My life is still here plodding along.. But only I hear the sound of my own thoughts like an annoying repetitive song. I hear that little voice, calm down it says! stop filling your stupid head, with anxiety a lack of self motivation and such a thing as recreation, only self interrogation and constant ************ I think of ways of ending it.. A rope around my neck?... or a cocktail of prescribed drugs? I try to find help but no one is willing or the nhs has started billing, I blame society and the burning of the bras, things were simpler with our evolutionary past. Nothing is moving I am stuck, I feel useless and out of so called ambitious luck. My patience is wearing and poignant preparations, is it really that necessary? I just can't be fckd! Move on, try again and again. Run away!... But financially there is no escape! The cruel beatings, the childhood ruined by my selfish relatives and a man I fell pregnant with. Take away the memories.. please take them away before I cry the tears from the river of blood and pain.
0
Jun 13, 2013
Jun 13, 2013 at 2:53 PM UTC
obsession depression
Idiot Man everyone knows about the super hero dudes the super cool who protect us from the bad and crudes Batman, Superman, Spiderman even Batgirl too they use their brains to outsmart villains and fools to bring justice and kindness to a world sometimes unkind well I searched all over the net trying to find a way to create a new man of evil and no it's not stuntman Evel Knievel I call him Idiot Man and he lives up to his billing he writes words of assnine stupidity completely filling and entire page and more of ideas that are dumb when he should be in the corner ******* his thumb he cant recognize beauty when it's right there in sight he doesn't know how to apologize to set things right I guess it's hard to find a graceful way out when you have left absolutely no doubt that you are in fact Idiot Man David Nelson ....
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Aug 14, 2011
Aug 14, 2011 at 6:30 PM UTC
Idiot Man
Crowded lakeside, more than expected on a normal day. Hoping for a quiet rendezvous in private she looked aghast, at such a turn of events, nevertheless started to make eyes at him; patience wasn't her best friend. Shutting up like a clam he was a picture of contrast. Every desire she expressed turned to a love sick wood duck soon  a flock was billing and cooing preening and polishing in haste, making amorous advances with an aggressiveness suggesting intolerance to his reticence. They chased his silence with irresistible  mating calls, raising hell as if in heat, making him regret.
0
Oct 27, 2013
Oct 27, 2013 at 2:30 PM UTC
Lovesick Antics
Run, Gemini child And run fast For tragedy is hounding You in the guise Of glory And billing you For excesses uncontrolled The end is drawing near…. Though you have no fear, Must you also have no shame? Hide, Gemini child And hide yourself well Hold still, unmoving Drop out of sight And out of mind For the consequences Have exacted from you A high price to pay A form of revenge Festering in your unkempt spirit How could you live As you have allowed yourself To lead? Destroy not your soul For materials that put their Patents on you… Must you go so low? Can you never go slow? Downwards is a long And empty route It was not the road That the heavens had Destined you to take Though it be the one You will never, ever forsake… Be kind dear Gemini child And go down alone If you think that you must Your looks might be lasting But your heart remains wanting Let other people move on And share not This unnecessary pain Let time be the judge Nor excuses be made For your living the fullest Through irreverent ways…. Curse of the seasons Child of the star Rest but your head On a pillow of stone Walls that constrict From maggots insist Anaesthetize all emotions That plagued you in life… Meet me at Forest Lawn Where to you I will sing To wipe all your tears And sunflowers bring Moodust on my pocket And one for the road Dear Gemini child Running from cold Kiss to the fate All the prophets fortold Dear Gemini child So beautiful and so bold Mine is a love That time can not fold Depicted in stories That shall never be told…
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May 5, 2015
May 5, 2015 at 6:47 AM UTC
RUN GEMINI CHILD
Run, Gemini child And run fast For tragedy is hounding You in the guise Of glory And billing you For excesses uncontrolled The end is drawing near…. Though you have no fear, Must you also have no shame? Hide, Gemini child And hide yourself well Hold still, unmoving Drop out of sight And out of mind For the consequences Have exacted from you A high price to pay A form of revenge Festering in your unkempt spirit How could you live As you have allowed yourself To lead? Destroy not your soul For materials that put their Patents on you… Must you go so low? Can you never go slow? Downwards is a long And empty route It was not the road That the heavens had Destined you to take Though it be the one You will never, ever forsake… Be kind dear Gemini child And go down alone If you think that you must Your looks might be lasting But your heart remains wanting Let other people move on And share not This unnecessary pain Let time be the judge Nor excuses be made For your living the fullest Through irreverent ways…. Curse of the seasons Child of the star Rest but your head On a pillow of stone Walls that constrict From maggots insist Anaesthetize all emotions That plagued you in life… Meet me at Forest Lawn Where to you I will sing To wipe all your tears And sunflowers bring Moodust on my pocket And one for the road Dear Gemini child Running from cold Kiss to the fate All the prophets fortold Dear Gemini child So beautiful and so bold Mine is a love That time can not fold Depicted in stories That shall never be told…
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71
Run, Gemini child And run fast For tragedy is hounding You in the guise Of glory And billing you For excesses uncontrolled The end is drawing near…. Though you have no fear, Must you also have no shame? Hide, Gemini child And hide yourself well Hold still, unmoving Drop out of sight And out of mind For the consequences Have exacted from you A high price to pay A form of revenge Festering in your unkempt spirit How could you live As you have allowed yourself To lead? Destroy not your soul For materials that put their Patents on you… Must you go so low? Can you never go slow? Downwards is a long And empty route It was not the road That the heavens had Destined you to take Though it be the one You will never, ever forsake… Be kind dear Gemini child And go down alone If you think that you must Your looks might be lasting But your heart remains wanting Let other people move on And share not This unnecessary pain Let time be the judge Nor excuses be made For your living the fullest Through irreverent ways…. Curse of the seasons Child of the star Rest but your head On a pillow of stone Walls that constrict From maggots insist Anaesthetize all emotions That plagued you in life… Meet me at Forest Lawn Where to you I will sing To wipe all your tears And sunflowers bring Moodust on my pocket And one for the road Dear Gemini child Running from cold Kiss to the fate All the prophets fortold Dear Gemini child So beautiful and so bold Mine is a love That time can not fold Depicted in stories That shall never be told…
0
Dec 10, 2015
Dec 10, 2015 at 6:27 AM UTC
Run Gemini Child
Run, Gemini child And run fast For tragedy is hounding You in the guise Of glory And billing you For excesses uncontrolled The end is drawing near…. Though you have no fear, Must you also have no shame? Hide, Gemini child And hide yourself well Hold still, unmoving Drop out of sight And out of mind For the consequences Have exacted from you A high price to pay A form of revenge Festering in your unkempt spirit How could you live As you have allowed yourself To lead? Destroy not your soul For materials that put their Patents on you… Must you go so low? Can you never go slow? Downwards is a long And empty route It was not the road That the heavens had Destined you to take Though it be the one You will never, ever forsake… Be kind dear Gemini child And go down alone If you think that you must Your looks might be lasting But your heart remains wanting Let other people move on And share not This unnecessary pain Let time be the judge Nor excuses be made For your living the fullest Through irreverent ways…. Curse of the seasons Child of the star Rest but your head On a pillow of stone Walls that constrict From maggots insist Anaesthetize all emotions That plagued you in life… Meet me at Forest Lawn Where to you I will sing To wipe all your tears And sunflowers bring Moodust on my pocket And one for the road Dear Gemini child Running from cold Kiss to the fate All the prophets fortold Dear Gemini child So beautiful and so bold Mine is a love That time can not fold Depicted in stories That shall never be told…
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71
I work for Jones & Co. You are likely somewhere down below, I have grown used to this unnatural height. Once, here, as a younger man, I read articles, working on cases just long enough to cultivate indifference. My first firm party, I was made to wear an ivy laurel. We were mingling on the penthouse deck, when a gust unceremoniously removed it from my head. Jones is a superstitious man, he has a dream-catcher above his office door. He designed a vaulted spiral staircase on our fifty-first floor. The one separates Jones from his company, the other, us from below. Five years of billing in six minute blocks, labyrinthine increments, Herculean costs. A kind of optic chiasma where the nerves cross and people get lost. B.E. Twain
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May 25, 2016
May 25, 2016 at 8:27 PM UTC
Jones & Co.
Mourning - you flew over indigo waters, landing Stealthy stalker you walked the shallows   billing silvery minnows On rust red stilts, you're built to move in watery fields Eyes piercing depths of algae blooms rippled, your swaying seaweed room Silent hunter, feathery plumed
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Jul 24, 2012
Jul 24, 2012 at 11:19 AM UTC
Heron
The club is small and dark and hazy like the veiled comedy of minstrel performers. Those dingy lights do little for the atmosphere— dangling hemp from clouds of cigarette smoke. This hole is filled with the classy of day and the sassy of night—a real “blue material” kinda crowd. Harry, the manager, after calling quarter and five, booked some awful oleo acts just minutes before “places!” —The crowd sits on their hands ‘til they’re numb and lame like the fish they watch flop on the boards. Two acts down followed by some soot-covered clown’s lazzo about who’s who and what’s what. Give me a break! The crowd wants fresh fish to fry— Girlies in pearlies with spun out legs that tower the torsos they’re pinned to. Give them that New York Style Cheese-cakewalk Variety Act! The listless listeners of this K.A. circuit let out a snake-like hiss, en masse. (The only show stoppers are off the billing, stage left at some other club!) The manager thinks fast like a quick change act— Harry snatches a prop from the nearest kook— In a long brown bathrobe, with a broad brown cane. He hushed the crowd of loud, jeering jerks, in one swift swoop of his leg-breaking, knockout **** called The Vaudeville Hook.
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Jun 23, 2012
Jun 23, 2012 at 8:10 PM UTC
The Vaudeville Hook
Mourning - you flew over indigo waters, landing Stealthy stalker you walked the shallows   billing silvery minnows On rust red stilts, you're built to move in watery fields Eyes piercing depths of algae blooms rippled, your swaying seaweed room Silent hunter, feathery plumed
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Feb 20, 2014
Feb 20, 2014 at 3:17 PM UTC
Heron
Olive branches smother and dismember in the mud giggling in time with the squish emanating from my alternating huff and puff footprints I trudge in Winter's sweat of schizophrenic rain My old defence, sheepish stolidity, got tweaked in a twist-up tight as a candy cane with a modest gasp of underground success That shadowy hush of acknowledgement ballooned in my ear like a blow fish amplifying the environmental inertia that never made me happier nor this sad I may have been mad walking from informed opinions like a failed Orpheus but defence shouted in silence and I returned home to the unconditional support of a pet art Acknowledgement's shadowy hush tore a blister trail down my back The ointment of Winter will soothe and release me before billing me with a scar and littering in the recycle bin of who I want to be Today I wanted to be accepted Night has arrived with reinforced snowflakes and the chill on my hot back has me wondering if I would rather be feared
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Apr 22, 2014
Apr 22, 2014 at 2:07 PM UTC
PASS THE SYRUP
Come join the British Army; And take the Queens Shilling; You won't have any problems; We'll take care of all your billing; We'll make a man out of you; Or a woman as the case may be; In the Army of the nineties; With ****** equality We are a modern army; With modern management systems; Such as TQM and H & S; And lots more bursts of wisdom; But in this modern world of ours; Don't forget what an army does, And training and development; Is to give us all a buzz. Yes we are a modern army; But we still serve Queen and Country; And it's getting more and more difficult; With ideas from the gentry. We don't ask for much in life; Just to earn an honest bob. So cut down on your ideas; And let us do our job.
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Sep 25, 2010
Sep 25, 2010 at 11:34 AM UTC
A Modern Army
forgot i was able forgoe the sugar cane horse towed them over the edge coarse hair coerced into the trap willing and able are you able? are you billing me? is this thrilling? have we been feeling the same? come over here something else over there i'm forgetful i'm a disgrace to the top upper crust societors upper cut so much science tons of honor tons more scholarly journals hurtled over the canyon wall carried by the wind to those unlistening wishing they could hear you sifting thorugh the river for rocks to deliver you giver of too many stories we already know tore off all of our clothes promised tonight would be different than so many others i laughed at others i couldn't have summer is ours to be somewhat more into fear someone to hold you dear come one come all to hear believer of something more deliverer of sudden storms of folk tail magic token now open your eyes to your own faults now look to the sky and know the hawks are staring down with hungry eyes they're bearing down they see you in the crowd falling allover selfish rags hagship tailors flag waving tagless sleeve cutters closing shutters in your mechanism exposed to low level flash bulbs just enough to imprint the entire night into something more we would never remember if not for your loose grip where you fell to the floor and saved another for the last night you swore you wouldn't take a sip
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Jun 25, 2013
Jun 25, 2013 at 11:47 AM UTC
vengeful choir
I take from the rich And I give To the richer Grow Money trees And then watch the world wither I've slithered In gardens of green Dripping red With a purity hood Draping over my head I have poisoned the fountain Of youth To retain My control of this endless Monopoly game As my capital gains A skyscraper a day To the skyrocket Stock market Locke's do I pray Upon all to be blessed With lavish excess But succession of kings My investment ****** To breed wealthier nations Uncommon in man Through unhealthier rations' Invisible Hand Do I muppet the mouths And harp on the heartstrings As I tug on the chains Of the slaves Freedom rings And that fat lady sings All she wants I will cling To this power With eagle-lied, Vulturous talons Devour The will And then **** the bills, Billing blood that I spill With impunity Robbery, Poverty Property I am the law There is no order stopping me No cherry topping me No global powers’ High towers Are topping me No master forces endorsed Are out-shopping me Spending spree On the lost souls Now to bending knee Fall And enthrall in the terror Of my urban sprawl Making maggots of masses' Automaton dreams Into my gilded ages' New pyramid schemes You can call me a liar Truth is No concern To the one who reigns fire With oil to burn Down upon the deniers Until they all learn I'll recruit body bags To preach life to the choir And when the screen lags Train these dogs to play dead, Lay their own on a wire In so doing shred The carnage they desire So I can play God And with demons conspire A masterful plan To command the economy Zombie hive mind Get in line For lobotomy My progeny Multiply to consume And consume And consume 'Til the ******* last fume Dissipates into space The good fortunes of Earth All amounting to waste With the mother who nurtured you ***** and disgraced The four steeds Of Apocalypse Nothing but paste For I win every time I with you Humans race
0
Feb 8, 2019
Feb 8, 2019 at 9:01 AM UTC
Avarice the Inexorable
I take from the rich And I give To the richer Grow Money trees And then watch the world wither I've slithered In gardens of green Dripping red With a purity hood Draping over my head I have poisoned the fountain Of youth To retain My control of this endless Monopoly game As my capital gains A skyscraper a day To the skyrocket Stock market Locke's do I pray Upon all to be blessed With lavish excess But succession of kings My investment ****** To breed wealthier nations Uncommon in man Through unhealthier rations' Invisible Hand Do I muppet the mouths And harp on the heartstrings As I tug on the chains Of the slaves Freedom rings And that fat lady sings All she wants I will cling To this power With eagle-lied, Vulturous talons Devour The will And then **** the bills, Billing blood that I spill With impunity Robbery, Poverty Property I am the law There is no order stopping me No cherry topping me No global powers’ High towers Are topping me No master forces endorsed Are out-shopping me Spending spree On the lost souls Now to bending knee Fall And enthrall in the terror Of my urban sprawl Making maggots of masses' Automaton dreams Into my gilded ages' New pyramid schemes You can call me a liar Truth is No concern To the one who reigns fire With oil to burn Down upon the deniers Until they all learn I'll recruit body bags To preach life to the choir And when the screen lags Train these dogs to play dead, Lay their own on a wire In so doing shred The carnage they desire So I can play God And with demons conspire A masterful plan To command the economy Zombie hive mind Get in line For lobotomy My progeny Multiply to consume And consume And consume 'Til the ******* last fume Dissipates into space The good fortunes of Earth All amounting to waste With the mother who nurtured you ***** and disgraced The four steeds Of Apocalypse Nothing but paste For I win every time I with you Humans race
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103
on the cover the same ones appear we've witnessed them showing out they've done so for over a long year repeatedly their monikers are about parading an ability so **** grand we've witnessed them showing out remarkable they of well scripted hand ever shining the infinite bright light parading an ability so **** grand we marvel at their dominant flight they've always had a star's billing ever shining the infinite bright light again to-day their fab quills spilling of a class which holds such veneration they've always had a star's billing watching them is an awing inspiration of a class which holds such veneration on the cover the same ones appear they've done so for over a long year
0
Jun 3, 2017
Jun 3, 2017 at 11:24 PM UTC
Over A Long Year (Terzanelle)
ignorance follows me around every corner and i’m tired of running away to avoid it i live in a world where post-rape abortions must be proven to be legit where ****** is advertised to come with a free **** kit this world is a place where musicians make more than the president and foreign residents with phd’s are struggling to make ends meet a continent is left to die to the beat of the greed and street crime the faces of the dying people don’t look like mine, so i guess it’s fine i can carry a television with me in my pocket and make phone calls on it there’s a hit reality show about a five year old girl dressed up like a corner *** child molesters are taking fashion notes for their dungeon homes fairy tales are profitable and everyone is worried about a zombie apocalypse the living dead exist miserably in mass housing and arthritis has destroyed their threat of violence we are now split in a rational debate over fulfillment of two thousand year old myths or if aliens will come back for us and a man gets top billing in a national political conference to talk to a chair about war and the capital deficit actresses are paid thousands of dollars to put make up on and get punched in the face gladiatorial arts to amuse the masses resurrected for the television age bread and circuses but there’s no bread left so let’s give them a show i’m rambling like a crazy man but i don’t see the cameras rolling so it’s all for naught
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Mar 5, 2013
Mar 5, 2013 at 9:02 PM UTC
ignorance.
LOBOLA Let me drift you away from the idea that lobola is buying your wife. No! It isn't. As black families, we believe that parents raise kids and once the kids have grown and are independent they get to now take care of their parents. Now! We know that once you get married, that might change because now you will be having your own family to take care of. We know that as men, that never really changes...you still get to take care of your parents and a family of your own hence there is no lobola for men. Now as women, we acknowledge that you are going to get married and go live by your in-laws or some place else and traditionally it is believed that you are never to come back home since you have been "taken". Understandably so because you are now part of a certain family and have broken the cord from yours. Fast forward to lobola therefore as a man who is taking away a woman from a family which she was taking care of, you ought to leave them with something so that they may continue living or surviving since you are taking away their "bread winner". Back in the days lobola was paid by cows, because with livestock you are rich and can survive for many years. The idea of lobola started being an issue and misunderstanding when it converted to hard cash. Which shouldn't have because it is still the same concept...with a certain amount of money you should be able to take care of your family and survive. How lobola got misinterpreted as buying your wife is not well understood however it could be presumed that it is because of the attributes that contributes to the price tagging. Your behaviour, achievements, ability to reproduce etc are what contributes to the billing. Which honestly shouldn't be an issue because parents know that with the achievements that you have you were going to take care of them well...very well. With the manners that you have...you will respect your husband and be obedient towards him. You will bear kids for your husband and gave a big family. Everyone is happy. All in all to able to understand the concept of lobola you have to understand culture and tradition but you are going to say "times have changed" and you are now modernised.
0
Mar 19, 2016
Mar 19, 2016 at 5:18 AM UTC
It is my culture
LOBOLA Let me drift you away from the idea that lobola is buying your wife. No! It isn't. As black families, we believe that parents raise kids and once the kids have grown and are independent they get to now take care of their parents. Now! We know that once you get married, that might change because now you will be having your own family to take care of. We know that as men, that never really changes...you still get to take care of your parents and a family of your own hence there is no lobola for men. Now as women, we acknowledge that you are going to get married and go live by your in-laws or some place else and traditionally it is believed that you are never to come back home since you have been "taken". Understandably so because you are now part of a certain family and have broken the cord from yours. Fast forward to lobola therefore as a man who is taking away a woman from a family which she was taking care of, you ought to leave them with something so that they may continue living or surviving since you are taking away their "bread winner". Back in the days lobola was paid by cows, because with livestock you are rich and can survive for many years. The idea of lobola started being an issue and misunderstanding when it converted to hard cash. Which shouldn't have because it is still the same concept...with a certain amount of money you should be able to take care of your family and survive. How lobola got misinterpreted as buying your wife is not well understood however it could be presumed that it is because of the attributes that contributes to the price tagging. Your behaviour, achievements, ability to reproduce etc are what contributes to the billing. Which honestly shouldn't be an issue because parents know that with the achievements that you have you were going to take care of them well...very well. With the manners that you have...you will respect your husband and be obedient towards him. You will bear kids for your husband and gave a big family. Everyone is happy. All in all to able to understand the concept of lobola you have to understand culture and tradition but you are going to say "times have changed" and you are now modernised.
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2
Curious curious little boy When will you learn, little girls are no toy Curious curious little girl, When will you know, virginity's no pearl Curious curious little politician When will you learn my future is missin Curious curious little consumer When will you realize the world's getting poorer Curious curious human beings Stop with the blindness and start with the seeing... When will you decide to stop the drilling, and the billing, and the mass grave sight killing? And the shaming and the blaming and the sleeping child maming? The spying and the crying and the nature is dying. And realize the truth that the cage is in your mind Just go back to the wild With the rivers trees and the vines The oceans and mountains Canyons and pines Forget all the poisons Remember respect. The feeling of bodies that don't suffer neglect. Breathe in the fresh air Inhabit the earth rekindle the spirit You were given at birth Curious curious, Its simply you see. Let's not let this end us. Let's choose to be free
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Nov 11, 2014
Nov 11, 2014 at 8:48 PM UTC
Curious curious
Overcome, Programmed years in technological mind mission To control, then dominate one’s thinking vision Overcome, Ingrained behavior taught since the inception To confine movement in the viewed perception Overcome, Battled sexes posturing for the top billing To uphold, then maintain movie star rating   Overcome, Perpetuated bigotry in narrow-minded fear To confuse truth with deceptions we hear Overcome, Chained hatred from a past mauled by meetings To render, then leave one’s will conflicting Overcome, Programmed desires to reprogram life simply To live without love and kindness openly.
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Jun 30, 2013
Jun 30, 2013 at 8:22 PM UTC
Reprogram
I'm not a fan of spatulas, not when the pancakes burn and their gilt edges look pretentious. Perhaps ostentatious is a better word when mahogany is used in the kitchen. I feel a lot of guilt, mostly over silly things I can't change, so sew me a quilt of pockets in which to store my regrets. I won't say I got especially drunk, but a few nights later there was a skunk, and I'm thinking that if you had stopped to ask his name, he would have introduced himself as Alfred. However, all this talk of individuality has got me thinking of the polyester comforter in beige she sewed and how there was once that mix-up with my former Sunday school teacher and a national holiday that didn't exist. Does a bigger beard make a man a better prophet? When a person stops to contemplate a grass blade, the whole world opens up in wonder. What good does greenery do? I'm telling you, it's not so much the greenery and more the change of scenery that's what makes a person whole. Thankfulness won't come in pieces, and God's grace is one of those intricate jigsaw puzzles spread out on a table in your heart as it gets glued with love and matted and framed with goodness. It's not that I'm in love with my billing office, it's just that I'm thinking of someone else when I put the stamp on. And I've tried to keep my thoughts quiet, but forget wearing my heart on my sleeve, I'm a bank window with paper cutout promises. But if you ever think of me, I'm thinking you might have a deficit on your account. Just because there's no way I left the oven on when I left the house doesn't mean I don't have the right to check.
0
Jul 10, 2016
Jul 10, 2016 at 10:12 PM UTC
Quilts (Freewrite)
I'm not a fan of spatulas, not when the pancakes burn and their gilt edges look pretentious. Perhaps ostentatious is a better word when mahogany is used in the kitchen. I feel a lot of guilt, mostly over silly things I can't change, so sew me a quilt of pockets in which to store my regrets. I won't say I got especially drunk, but a few nights later there was a skunk, and I'm thinking that if you had stopped to ask his name, he would have introduced himself as Alfred. However, all this talk of individuality has got me thinking of the polyester comforter in beige she sewed and how there was once that mix-up with my former Sunday school teacher and a national holiday that didn't exist. Does a bigger beard make a man a better prophet? When a person stops to contemplate a grass blade, the whole world opens up in wonder. What good does greenery do? I'm telling you, it's not so much the greenery and more the change of scenery that's what makes a person whole. Thankfulness won't come in pieces, and God's grace is one of those intricate jigsaw puzzles spread out on a table in your heart as it gets glued with love and matted and framed with goodness. It's not that I'm in love with my billing office, it's just that I'm thinking of someone else when I put the stamp on. And I've tried to keep my thoughts quiet, but forget wearing my heart on my sleeve, I'm a bank window with paper cutout promises. But if you ever think of me, I'm thinking you might have a deficit on your account. Just because there's no way I left the oven on when I left the house doesn't mean I don't have the right to check.
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5
They say to do this and that. but you can't make me do it. cuz i am my own person. they lock us in a billing with only gray for a color. On every wall i see. i fill like Im in a jell with the teacher dwelling nonsince bull shiv in my head. But it don't say my thoughts. cuz i have my own opinion. But i bite my toung. I ask the teachers if the government told them to teach this nonsins. they say i have to know it. i say i don't care to and any ways you can't make me cuz Im not a robot that you can just program. Like you are. And any ways you should know that you can't make me. cuz i am my own person. So stop trying to dwell my head full of shiv.                 to my teachers.
0
Oct 9, 2012
Oct 9, 2012 at 12:13 AM UTC
you can tell me, but you can't make me.
Billing you the total cost. Although most figures I purposefully lost. I'm an origami paper that could never fold. Unable yet everpresant to mold. Wanted for being a trouble-maker. Even though I was a total faker. Arrested for my imagination. I guess theirs are forever on suspension.
0
Oct 31, 2010
Oct 31, 2010 at 9:10 PM UTC
9:07 in the mornin'
i saw two turtle doves sitting in a tree very much in love looking down at me billing and a cooing singing there love song cuddled up together with a love so strong it gave my heart aglow fill me up with glee i sat there and watched wishing it was me then they flew away in the sky so blue very much in love with a love so true.
0
Apr 15, 2014
Apr 15, 2014 at 9:07 AM UTC
turtle dove love
equal top billing Leonids and Taurids show ~fireball duet Mark Toney © 2020
0
Nov 15, 2020
Nov 15, 2020 at 5:21 PM UTC
Fireball Duet
The day starts off bitter and dark Splattered and splotched with watermarks From tears of us forced to watch Battle cause against battle cause Shoulders flaked in hatreds frost Rolling rocks collect no moss Foes and friends this war has cost Who could have thunk who would have thought A world like this would take top billing A time like this would come of age Raising fists in fits of rage Here's the pauper where's the sage Keeping truth locked in a cage Same old look different name Nothing's changed it's all the same Unknown ghosts make us afraid Set the date cut the cake A world like this is quite revealing Unless you find you like the lies Being spewed out on all sides From the upper left to the lower right As we feed the hand that bites It's a case of do or die Whatever it takes to win the fight Sign of the times I  me mine Raise your hand and close your eyes In this world of truth concealing They're keeping score behind closed doors Where they have mine and they have yours Where the disease thinks it's the cure And only peace can come through war If that's not enough there's more in store Times are rotten to the core Days like these are hard to ignore Once we've opened Pandora's door A world like this is hard in its dealings A world like this is primed for stealing A world like this has lost all meaning A world like this is in it's keeping A world like this...
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Sep 26, 2018
Sep 26, 2018 at 11:14 AM UTC
A World Like This...
Whoop! Whoop! Is the name of this poem Don't know where it's going But I know it's got it going on Wherever it may lead us In silence or in song We'll all be Whooping it up Way before to long Whoop! Whoop! Is where I heard it's at Where it gets top billing So ladies and gentlemen place your bets How far up the ladder it will go Is anybody's guess So let's Whoop it up while we're here Before there's no Whooping left
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Sep 2, 2013
Sep 2, 2013 at 9:33 AM UTC
Whoop! Whoop!