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"bombarde" poems
This fear Is nowhere near Anything I have experienced before Leaving me shaken to the core Wretched and poor Happiness no more This pain Attains Nothing but lies Watching my spirit die While everyone is standing by Receiving countless irritated sighs All I know how to do is fail My bones are so frail Fresh thoughts have grown stale My insecurities come at me like hail I'm sorry I turned out this way All that is pure has gone astray I realize it's not okay The more and more that I decay This isn't who you wanted me to be I am anything but happy and free I never wanted this, you see But it's these profound insecurites I apologize I know you put that pain in disguise When I bombarde you with lies Causing your anxiety to rise You can't hide it, I can see it in your eyes I tried and I tried To keep you satisfied Was it so hard to comprehend the words that I cried? In you In this life I no longer confide
0
Jan 3, 2011
Jan 3, 2011 at 8:38 PM UTC
anony-mous
Anorexia
This fear Is nowhere near Anything I have experienced before Leaving me shaken to the core Wretched and poor Happiness no more This pain Attains Nothing but lies Watching my spirit die While everyone is standing by Receiving countless irritated sighs All I know how to do is fail My bones are so frail Fresh thoughts have grown stale My insecurities come at me like hail I'm sorry I turned out this way All that is pure has gone astray I realize it's not okay The more and more that I decay This isn't who you wanted me to be I am anything but happy and free I never wanted this, you see But it's these profound insecurites I apologize I know you put that pain in disguise When I bombarde you with lies Causing your anxiety to rise You can't hide it, I can see it in your eyes I tried and I tried To keep you satisfied Was it so hard to comprehend the words that I cried? In you In this life I no longer confide
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.the cardinal-dittoheads... the anchors that read from a cue... the basic tapeworms of: auto- and spasms... herr spaß... some say: pristine grammar, and hardly any spelling mistakes... because... you bring an ummy: and braille... to gold-dig the priße.... the siamese twins shifted "gear"... moved from vermont to northumbarland... so driving on the "opposite" side of the road... seems or would forever seem: normal... atom-bombarde with a leftover of letters... giraffe tyrone and schlang: the holy trinity of: ⠊⠉ ⠥: i see you: IÇU (ee, oh y o)... the secular church of woke - or whatever you call it - plato despised the poets: almost a priori from the "utopia"... of "the" republic... otherwise, what? journalists are the priests of the secular church? journalists becoming allowed to savor a priesthood-caste status... with no church akin to a st. paul's cathedral... but a glass-ceiling and the wandering shard... that these days journalists feel impelled to be treated as the ancient lore of the priest?! the journalist these days is the neupfarrer... ******** to the load of them... but unlike the modern day priest... i would not wish to be... burnt at the stake... by some... weak-cognißant: button-pressing circus monkey! how a priest became a journalist... or how a journalist became a priest... how horrific my heresy... would have have to be... to burn at the stake... compared... to... the "compensation" on offer from... the current journalistic-priesthood of secularism.
0
Feb 12, 2020
Feb 12, 2020 at 9:02 PM UTC
removed.polaroid-scrabble
priest-journalist
.the cardinal-dittoheads... the anchors that read from a cue... the basic tapeworms of: auto- and spasms... herr spaß... some say: pristine grammar, and hardly any spelling mistakes... because... you bring an ummy: and braille... to gold-dig the priße.... the siamese twins shifted "gear"... moved from vermont to northumbarland... so driving on the "opposite" side of the road... seems or would forever seem: normal... atom-bombarde with a leftover of letters... giraffe tyrone and schlang: the holy trinity of: ⠊⠉ ⠥: i see you: IÇU (ee, oh y o)... the secular church of woke - or whatever you call it - plato despised the poets: almost a priori from the "utopia"... of "the" republic... otherwise, what? journalists are the priests of the secular church? journalists becoming allowed to savor a priesthood-caste status... with no church akin to a st. paul's cathedral... but a glass-ceiling and the wandering shard... that these days journalists feel impelled to be treated as the ancient lore of the priest?! the journalist these days is the neupfarrer... ******** to the load of them... but unlike the modern day priest... i would not wish to be... burnt at the stake... by some... weak-cognißant: button-pressing circus monkey! how a priest became a journalist... or how a journalist became a priest... how horrific my heresy... would have have to be... to burn at the stake... compared... to... the "compensation" on offer from... the current journalistic-priesthood of secularism.
Continue reading...
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