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Steve D'Beard Jun 2014
We, the people of this country, in your eyes are:

babblers, bachelors, bafflers, baiters, barkers,
beakers, beaters, brawlers, blamers, beggars,
bloaters, bloopers, bombers, boozers, blunders,
bruisers, bafflers, bluffers, burglars and burners.

That's why you feel compelled to keep your foot on our heads
keep us down, put us down, push us down
subjugate us, belittle us, berate us.

We, the people of this country, in our eyes are:

butlers, bouncers, bakers, buyers, barbers,
cake-makers, delivery-takers, cocktail-shakers,
taxi drivers, cancer survivors, employers and hirers,
music makers, entertainers, window washers, foster takers,
plasterers, carpenters, scaffolders, sparks and builders,
boxers, carers, coaches, tailors, shoe makers,
designers, illustrators, multi-language facilitators,
dog walkers, dog trainers, bikers and cycle couriers,
doctors and nurses and all the emergency services.

We are the People, the reason you are where you are now
you sometimes forget that we exist as people, somehow
locked in your ivory towers with gold plated showers
and MP expenses and investment banker pretenses
this is not theater, its real life drama, its not just a bluff
its time to stand up
and say enough is enough.
Sam Temple Jul 2015
systematic injustice personified
defended by Constitutional underpinnings
a flag of hate, slavery, and intolerance
waves in the warm July breeze
as a debate rages
over the ideas of heritage
versus
symbolism
becoming the latest social conversation –
systematizing racial profiling
for Aryan officers
lost in the code of silence
giving the badge both a blue
and black image
of bruised pride
the pride of a nation –
poor pigment-ally challenged youth
bound to suffer
indignity of an atrocious nature
at the hands of your teachers,
preachers,
authority figures,
and family members
so culturally *******
that they cannot see themselves propagating
their own despair –
this nation of victim blamers
hates its own multi-ethnic skin
cannot look into the proverbial mirror
without shuddering at the view
in one thousand years
when all humanity is a nice,
even, shade of brown
what will we hate about each other then? –
Monika Nov 2017
I'm a good friend.
But I can't stand liars.
I'm a liar myself.
I wish I could **** myself.

I am a patient guy.
But I hate complaints.
This too is a complaint.
That's hilarious.

I am a kind person.
But I hate blamers.
For blaming them though,
I blame myself.
Yenson Dec 2023
I have not found misery
But contentment and liberating Light
amongst ladened pygmies I stand head and shoulders above

So lets pity the Dividers
and the sordid indulgences of shysters
charlathans liars blamers decievers scallywags and larcenists

Tis the sweat off my brow
my aspiration and endeavours upholds
as does millions of others who in honest toil thrive and profit

Sham politburo hooligans
state half-wits spit anachronistic slogans
our Witchfinder General seeing silver spoons in meritocracy

Lazies do as lazy does
Never learning but heedlessly agitating
Puerile minds dividing projecting smearing and intimidating

Maniac fantasists deluded saps
Disingenuous failures hiding in plain sight
Cheats and sinners in glasshouses throwing stones

Dime store mobsters
Confused minds in haze exporting confusion
Mired in hate envy and jealousy they alienate enterprise and success

It’s monarchs it’s the elites
Well worn lies and excuses for the work-shy
There’s opportunities aplenty but dumb blamers point fingers

You can’t tell the truth
That you want something for nothing
That you’re the greedy and entitled sourly prodigals

Reds with red faced shame
dunce revolutionaries in Quixotic faux pas
the problem rests in you as you wallow in the divisive stench
whirling in the windmills of your rancid minds

He who took on the mantle stands
he who toiled hard to better himself stands
he who crossed oceans stands and even built more than you
with all your privileges what have you done to make yourselves
feel proud - oh yes, you throw stones and hide hands - bravo!!........ bravo!!
Hristy Aug 2018
Inevitable pain as a spice of everyday life

Slow cooked thoughts
Take away the life
Take away the spark
The flow of heaven inside

The blamers, the thoughts
The paranoia that seeps under your tongue

The hole, the hole drilled in your heart,
The massive black hole who waits to ****

The.life.out.of.you

Then emptiness awaits you just behind the corner

Invitation for an open conversation
Confrontation
Collaboration
Between mind
Between heart

Between reality
Between hallucination

I'm slipping away into annihilation
Bo Tansky May 2020
Morning shower was wonderful  
Although I always shower alone
Who is the one who follows me there
Where I lay restless my thoughts bare
Live streaming rivulets crystal clear
Lost in a watery mist
With whomever I dare
My reluctant nakedness  
Bringing thoughts of you near
  
What safety here
What denied demon deity
Are you
What vampire warmth *******
Shadow dancing
Dumb down daring
Lives here
Am I waking from the dream
Is it all it seems
My body
My soul
Lay bare
Perhaps if true
That I have always showered alone
Till I found you there


Who is the you
Of whom I speak
Pieces of the whole
Yanked from my soul
Incomplete  

You hide in a shower of lies
Whoever you are
Masquerading as truth
Though truth be subjective
I’m told
Take off the blindfold
You have been here so long
The waters turned cold

Would  
Washing away the lies
Lies there
Hope
Dreams
Plans and schemes
Try to stay alive  
Lazy mantra
No work
For you.

For me
An emotional confessional
For the cleansed of perfection
I thought-
Of the sequence of events
That led to you leaving
The madness of mania
Reaching a fevered pitch
A fire of despair
Contagious as it draws near
From bed to bed it jumped
Unconscious
Retaliation of
Of outrage and contempt
Inoculations against the lie
Of feeble fallibility
And all sensibility
Was gone
I was aflame
And you the fire.

Alas the fire has died
  
Chiefs
All of them
What was it the chief said
Hold on to what you believe
Even if it’s a tree.
A tree
That stands alone.

Trees that stood alone.
All of them
All three
Trees that stood alone
Branches rigid like stone
Arthritic roots digging deep
Olive branches
To cover the shame shifters
Name game blamers
Who left the house
Through the back door
Metaphor
Expressing only what they want you to see
O pinnacles of propriety
You lied to me
Worse
I believed the lies
And could not see
I
Sometimes delving deep
Into the craziness
Of a felt connection
Screaming in silence
For you have
For you
Whoever you are
My reason for living
My fury at dying
My anger at the lies
My hurt that won’t heal
My life a disguise


I reject the madness of projection
Take back the parts that were never mine
Take your sad story
You need it
To stay alive

It’s only
A good detective show.
Searched for the missing pieces
And
Didn’t want to say
I told you so.

Aries are like that
Ruled by Mars
And fiery.
Headstrong
And wise
With the moon and the sun in Gemini
As of this writing
Truth-seeking Aries
Will never tell you a lie
Competitive but not in a mean way
But blunt
Sometimes
Blunt


Three chiefs in a room
Was definitely a crowd
What’s more
There were actually
Four or more
You couldn’t see them though
For they were lying low
Parasitic opinions
Prodding for advantage
Plotting
Punishing
Ghosts
Of Christmas past
Present and future
Specters of possibilities
Probabilities
Imagined
Some nightmarishly so
Threatening your very existence
With things you do not know

Time equally
Spent
Between and betwixt
Not seeming to take sides
Lest it seems a trick

Looked you in the eye
Casual enough
Look away
With a casual sigh
Timing is everything
Not to mention the conversation
Lost in the looking
Nothing really lost
Nothing really found
What did you say?
And can you repeat that
I was just wondering
Daydreaming to be truthful
Why should I listen to you
and
Why did you wear blue  
It’s a funny question
I know.
And can you please repeat what you just said
I was trying to read your expression
instead
I know I must sound an idiot
Isn’t funny how I wore blue too.
Between him and him and you
I wrote three hymns
And a hallelujah too
Maybe it all played out as it should have
With no could of or
Would of
A natural softening of the boundaries
Perhaps a dissolution of egos
Led me into your inner chamber
Like Mars
The god of war
Destroyed what was not real
And then receded
You pleaded
For me to go
Quickly.
Three was always a crowd,
A necessary triangulation
A supply chamber
For those who wore a shroud

Now heard you say
Now go away
Loud and clear
Why so loud and why so clear
Did you think me hard to hear
Could you not have whispered low
Softly to go
Bt no
Then
It was a literal death toll
For you too
I could not say
You could not stay
There was nothing left to do

You picked up what you could
And leftover me.
Bereft
Stepped over me
And left
Nevertheless
What’s in the conquest?
What did you get?
Missing soul piece

Did you get what you wanted
Was it a success?
Then
In the end, it was all worth it
It seems
The Machiavellian end justified the means
I’m not really sure if this is what I mean.
My words seem so inadequate.
Perhaps the best defense is an offense.
In any event
I’m off the fence.
But
Still in search
Of some pieces
I might have missed
Along the way.

— The End —