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"budda" poems
Stand up Stand up for something Anything Sing out about the way You want the world to be Learn to listen Learn to look for people Desperately in need Learn to love to read Learn to love Expand your mind and empathy Be brave Stand up and speak With as much a voice inside This your precious body As Jesus, Budda, M.L.K. Five foot five Mahatma Gandhi "Be the change you wish to see.." A world full of people In much greater need The things you say And things you do Can effect the world Not just a few Every person's A link in the chain Not thinking you matter Causes disarray Everyone has something to say Especially sensing one's Prone to feeling pain If you don't speak up And make a stand It won't just go away Beliefs don't make you better Behavior makes that change Speak for the weak Not next week Now Do something Feel proud Not for you But for the good you do They'll try to shoot you down Action scares those prone to shunning Often those who surround Are rut stuck, change haters Trying to share their frown They'll work to make you drown Those efforts will abound But anything that's worth the fight Is not easily found E.Poe January 2014
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Jan 2, 2014
Jan 2, 2014 at 10:46 PM UTC
You Have A Voice Too
Older Man, Laughing Yet Big Neo Dogs, Nice To Pet Adrenaline Rush, Nasty Yet Fun To Have, We Must Get Wicca Witch, Twins Separate Contradiction, Va. Va. Met Sleepy Now, Cast A Hex Punch A Wall, Now The Vet Budda Belly, Go Thai Chi Woven Wood, Living Tree Melody Play, God's Own Green Moving Mouth, Past Unseen Wise Man, Advice To Give Fun Days, Life To Live Many Friends, Happy Hands Huge Heart, Other Lands
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Sep 6, 2013
Sep 6, 2013 at 11:20 PM UTC
Red Cream Blue
I  went on a mission searching Him. Priests "he abodes house of worship"; Others "you 'll find him in idols"; Scientists "in atoms as energy"; Atheist "let it be.Your pursuit is futile". Did it suffice me?It only deluded me. One day, I stood before a mirror, The secret was answered. We are clothed with Power , fed with beliefs,moved by love. The cord of Realization when struck, the abstruse life begins to unveil Abating the afflictions of the soul. This cord & the universe resonate, To give 13th cord of octave - "ecstasy". Now this phrase is justified; "The Budda in me spreads to the Budda in you to create peace & hapiness." _Yes he's in me_*
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Mar 2, 2018
Mar 2, 2018 at 2:53 PM UTC
"The secret answered"
I like being egoistic I like extremes I think in extremes I also answer in extremes I like people who are extremes too.
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Dec 29, 2014
Dec 29, 2014 at 5:21 AM UTC
budda
twelve days in july and i carry tokens of each of them in the pocket of my filthy jeans each has a face each has a story and its own trail of rages or tears she danced alone in the room of the redhouse bodega a spanish tune twisting slowly from the player its sound thin but the song robust spinning spinning round and round she was shadow and light flashes of rich color in her best dress and boots of leather hear them still hitting the hardpack floor like thunder she was a goddess that night she was the worlds that night let her stay there forever in the limelight happy in the moment he waited dressed in his finest clothes pressed and neat from head to toe with a single rose in the moonlight a mile down from the redhouse in his heart he sings that song to her in his heart he holds her in his arms theres nothing that will stop us he says theres nothing that will ever stand in our way and his heart dances thru all the days with her that he will love her that they will share there in the moonlight a mile down from the redhouse singing a song in his heart for her let him abide there forever happy in the moment i see dawn sneaking in the window pull the blanket from my shoulder shake off the chill cough the sickhouse regret and feel my lungs fill with  slow death twelve days in july but i keep dreamin of one night in febuary a shopping cart and smiles hope i could use some all the places i could have ended did not see this one alone in an empty broken room an empty broken man dont leave me here alone in this moment she lay in the grass public park just before dawn looking up at the stars fade holding a small budda rubbing the belly smile on her face but thoughts run deep and swift with one finger she traces the edges of clouds in her heart she paints masterpieces she illustrates the world with a carefree hand and is loved by all who behold in her heart the last sliver of moonlight is hers alone on the road from the redhouse an ambulance ride to saving a quick journey to hope on the road from the redhouse she just wants to stay here where its safe where nothing dangerous can get at her in this moment of moonlight happiness twelve days in july seem like years to me where am i bound will i make it i just want that night shopping carts and smiles hope just a glimmer of hope
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Jul 12, 2013
Jul 12, 2013 at 9:00 AM UTC
twelve days in july
twelve days in july and i carry tokens of each of them in the pocket of my filthy jeans each has a face each has a story and its own trail of rages or tears she danced alone in the room of the redhouse bodega a spanish tune twisting slowly from the player its sound thin but the song robust spinning spinning round and round she was shadow and light flashes of rich color in her best dress and boots of leather hear them still hitting the hardpack floor like thunder she was a goddess that night she was the worlds that night let her stay there forever in the limelight happy in the moment he waited dressed in his finest clothes pressed and neat from head to toe with a single rose in the moonlight a mile down from the redhouse in his heart he sings that song to her in his heart he holds her in his arms theres nothing that will stop us he says theres nothing that will ever stand in our way and his heart dances thru all the days with her that he will love her that they will share there in the moonlight a mile down from the redhouse singing a song in his heart for her let him abide there forever happy in the moment i see dawn sneaking in the window pull the blanket from my shoulder shake off the chill cough the sickhouse regret and feel my lungs fill with  slow death twelve days in july but i keep dreamin of one night in febuary a shopping cart and smiles hope i could use some all the places i could have ended did not see this one alone in an empty broken room an empty broken man dont leave me here alone in this moment she lay in the grass public park just before dawn looking up at the stars fade holding a small budda rubbing the belly smile on her face but thoughts run deep and swift with one finger she traces the edges of clouds in her heart she paints masterpieces she illustrates the world with a carefree hand and is loved by all who behold in her heart the last sliver of moonlight is hers alone on the road from the redhouse an ambulance ride to saving a quick journey to hope on the road from the redhouse she just wants to stay here where its safe where nothing dangerous can get at her in this moment of moonlight happiness twelve days in july seem like years to me where am i bound will i make it i just want that night shopping carts and smiles hope just a glimmer of hope
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80
A cold stare into a broken mirror a ghastly ghoul leers unto me. My heart rises, tears fall, the bed I've made splinters to unseen fractures. The beast grins with ax like teeth destined to devour a cherry rose flower placed delicately on soggy sheets. The fear... The regret... Stand shallow in comparison to an everlasting candle faltering on its flame. It cries for help as more tears smother it.      The man             The beast                    The Flower dance to tunes of a scarred heart, but from the budda belly of the beast the heart sheds its skin; the tune changes. Only the man and rose remain. My tears have turned to sap now seeping slowly into the cracks, mending the the mirror. With a last glance only I Remain.
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Sep 17, 2016
Sep 17, 2016 at 10:39 PM UTC
A Silent Lie
"The smile on my face does not mean that everything is perfect...it means that I appreciate what I have and what God has blessed me with" - Unknown author " Holding onto anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one that gets burned." - Budda " Love is Like the Wind you can't see it but you can feel it" "Life is not separate from Death it just seems that way"- Blackfoot Native American
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Jun 9, 2016
Jun 9, 2016 at 9:36 AM UTC
"Food For Thought"
1-14-13 Lights touched every corner of the place Colors danced around I tried to breathe but it was too much Nature was a symphony before me It screamed its name, wanting to make itself known But I didn't hear it I loved clear skies I let them know they were worthy of adoration They were something I could relate to They enclosed our world But were completely empty and unreachable The skies seemed unreal Did they know I was there? I knew the world didn't We needed the skies to live I still didn't know my purpose I found myself separated that day from my only friend As I stood intimidated by its new skin I wished that I could kiss the sky Maybe it could be my lady luck, my Budda But it was impossible...it being unreachable How could nothingness turn into a butterfly? And then, as it fluttered all around I tried mimicking my new found interest I never got bored of the pretty patterns The way it gracefully moved And then, I blinked, because it was gone I was dead How long had I been still? My eyes were fixed on some point Was it where the pefect creature had been seen last? My marker read "Eros" And I didn't remember anything about my life My eyes were still watching the silent ripples I was gasping for air, looking at my torn wings Rain poured out of the heavens At first, I braced myself for the cold, but changed my mind I'd rather feel numb I was blinded while warm drops fell on me I was covered all over But I kept sinking into the blackness Pathos fell from above The heavens were crying I flickered my eyes open to watch the one who had always been watching out for me And the earth remained silent as I entered hell
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Mar 13, 2013
Mar 13, 2013 at 2:24 PM UTC
Untitled
1-14-13 Lights touched every corner of the place Colors danced around I tried to breathe but it was too much Nature was a symphony before me It screamed its name, wanting to make itself known But I didn't hear it I loved clear skies I let them know they were worthy of adoration They were something I could relate to They enclosed our world But were completely empty and unreachable The skies seemed unreal Did they know I was there? I knew the world didn't We needed the skies to live I still didn't know my purpose I found myself separated that day from my only friend As I stood intimidated by its new skin I wished that I could kiss the sky Maybe it could be my lady luck, my Budda But it was impossible...it being unreachable How could nothingness turn into a butterfly? And then, as it fluttered all around I tried mimicking my new found interest I never got bored of the pretty patterns The way it gracefully moved And then, I blinked, because it was gone I was dead How long had I been still? My eyes were fixed on some point Was it where the pefect creature had been seen last? My marker read "Eros" And I didn't remember anything about my life My eyes were still watching the silent ripples I was gasping for air, looking at my torn wings Rain poured out of the heavens At first, I braced myself for the cold, but changed my mind I'd rather feel numb I was blinded while warm drops fell on me I was covered all over But I kept sinking into the blackness Pathos fell from above The heavens were crying I flickered my eyes open to watch the one who had always been watching out for me And the earth remained silent as I entered hell
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46
My ideal love is a love that catches me by surprise. The realization of intelligent things and conversations that literally take us anywhere. My ideal love is a love that expresses ideal. The ramifications that influence us to be who we really are in front of who we are. A love that doesn't mind bargin shopping and putting together hundred dollar outfits that really cost $10. The reality that its the most simplest of things that are most significant. A spontaneous love that doesn't mind the predictability of living today before exploring the mystery of tomorrow. Here after the after thought that we exist in the past as well as the present simultaneously. If ever in need I'll do my best to provide all that I can for an ideal love. Through these actions I believe the true miracle is achieved. An ideal love that is beyond ideal. Who sets the where and how we meet, the institutions of bliss where the masses are limited to love and longing. To find patience and compassion sitting on the front lawn on the same institution. As long as she provides a kiss that can send me outside of my own thoughts, and pull me closer to hers. My ideal love wouldn't be based on a B.E.T movie. A single expression that summarizes a scorned woman letting go. A cliff note of lust soon as the next sceen fades to black. Her ******* pulled down not knowing the dude is secretly abusive. 140 minutes gone by to realize the last 5 mins were the ones that made her truly happy. The woes of love. My ideal love is a woman built with ambition but with a heart big enough to understand that without sacrifice nothing is truly accomplished. A culture made in truth, ripped off by those who ignore that struggle is what makes us who we are. The courage to walk out in front and be who we really are. A real woman that doesn't mind lounging around the house that knows whom Budda and Huey Newton was. This revolution of ideal starts the moment I realize that I never stood a chance. The surprise of her lips against my cheek. I drink from this remedy each time you open your lips. So in silence I gasp. As you caught me off guard, My ideal love
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Aug 6, 2017
Aug 6, 2017 at 9:15 PM UTC
Huey & Jazmine (Ideal Love)
My ideal love is a love that catches me by surprise. The realization of intelligent things and conversations that literally take us anywhere. My ideal love is a love that expresses ideal. The ramifications that influence us to be who we really are in front of who we are. A love that doesn't mind bargin shopping and putting together hundred dollar outfits that really cost $10. The reality that its the most simplest of things that are most significant. A spontaneous love that doesn't mind the predictability of living today before exploring the mystery of tomorrow. Here after the after thought that we exist in the past as well as the present simultaneously. If ever in need I'll do my best to provide all that I can for an ideal love. Through these actions I believe the true miracle is achieved. An ideal love that is beyond ideal. Who sets the where and how we meet, the institutions of bliss where the masses are limited to love and longing. To find patience and compassion sitting on the front lawn on the same institution. As long as she provides a kiss that can send me outside of my own thoughts, and pull me closer to hers. My ideal love wouldn't be based on a B.E.T movie. A single expression that summarizes a scorned woman letting go. A cliff note of lust soon as the next sceen fades to black. Her ******* pulled down not knowing the dude is secretly abusive. 140 minutes gone by to realize the last 5 mins were the ones that made her truly happy. The woes of love. My ideal love is a woman built with ambition but with a heart big enough to understand that without sacrifice nothing is truly accomplished. A culture made in truth, ripped off by those who ignore that struggle is what makes us who we are. The courage to walk out in front and be who we really are. A real woman that doesn't mind lounging around the house that knows whom Budda and Huey Newton was. This revolution of ideal starts the moment I realize that I never stood a chance. The surprise of her lips against my cheek. I drink from this remedy each time you open your lips. So in silence I gasp. As you caught me off guard, My ideal love
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30
Chin up, I knew today wud comee I ran in the store wit budda bean in da car Budda bean ma puppy He brown and he spotted like pokadot baby I got me sum milk Ma hart split and spilt like a flower falling aparte Ma baby didint call me bak Broke dis dull heart Jakie poo Pleese take dis dum girlie back I'm always at your side We will flow like a watering ***
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Jul 22, 2015
Jul 22, 2015 at 11:32 AM UTC
Water pour luv missing babie jakie
I probably might have said it, Or maybe dream it Seeing how years of anger has tarnish my self-image My teenage age was happier, wild and care free Now I see elderly men and women Lost within their minds The signs were there He rubs his head so frantically His shuffling gait frustrates me so much to see him do this, his perception of time and space Seem to be fading Frustration, anger, and fear build within I looked at him and smile. He said to me lady “Where am I? Do you know me? I can’t seem to remember anything All I can do for him Is to keep him safe from harm “Take your medication Mr. Rivera” Just take your med” sir! When the mind is happy We should rejoice Eventually, the mind will fade Into invisible dots …………………… When the mind is pure, joy follows Like a shadow that never leaves. -Budda
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Aug 17, 2013
Aug 17, 2013 at 5:31 PM UTC
The Mountains Never Gets Old
The muthaphukkaz always lurking Lookin for wayz to **** and Suckas wanna claim mass apeal **** how the masses feel Id rather come with the real Fresh daytons on the 64 with the chrome trimmed steel For real for real heads get peeled Talking outta line ***** im from Htown where we climb The ladder of success Smokin that budda for the eternal bless Inhale exhale from ya chest the best To test the streets know me As i manifest Like pac did pack pistols like eazy did Make em rollover like rock the kid And you know how i go in and out of hoes Haters get exposed friend of foes So go on with that hating **** Before ya end up in a casket Dead ghetto ******** smoke a philly So i can chill just givin up the real the real The muthaphukkin realllll Now that the smokes rising fires blazin Hands in air as im raising Nothing but hell in the atmosphere True playa international to be exact Sharp as a tact dont know how to act Ever since my Ogs taught me how to polish the mack Death waitin for innocent or fouls souls No repent heaven inside of hells cells Sound libertys bell unravel the veil Truth comes foo cant hide from my tools Make bodies drool and ooze Blood ya lifes wasting away **** what ya gotta say i dash away with the ak It dont matter where it hits em As long as the bullets get em Im crazy funky serious with this poetry **** I didnt wanna be a rebel But the rebel found me when i was baby So dont get mad if i get an urge to **** Just give up the what the what Tha real the real the muthaphukkin real
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Oct 25, 2016
Oct 25, 2016 at 2:17 PM UTC
Tha Muthaphukkin' Real
The muthaphukkaz always lurking Lookin for wayz to **** and Suckas wanna claim mass apeal **** how the masses feel Id rather come with the real Fresh daytons on the 64 with the chrome trimmed steel For real for real heads get peeled Talking outta line ***** im from Htown where we climb The ladder of success Smokin that budda for the eternal bless Inhale exhale from ya chest the best To test the streets know me As i manifest Like pac did pack pistols like eazy did Make em rollover like rock the kid And you know how i go in and out of hoes Haters get exposed friend of foes So go on with that hating **** Before ya end up in a casket Dead ghetto ******** smoke a philly So i can chill just givin up the real the real The muthaphukkin realllll Now that the smokes rising fires blazin Hands in air as im raising Nothing but hell in the atmosphere True playa international to be exact Sharp as a tact dont know how to act Ever since my Ogs taught me how to polish the mack Death waitin for innocent or fouls souls No repent heaven inside of hells cells Sound libertys bell unravel the veil Truth comes foo cant hide from my tools Make bodies drool and ooze Blood ya lifes wasting away **** what ya gotta say i dash away with the ak It dont matter where it hits em As long as the bullets get em Im crazy funky serious with this poetry **** I didnt wanna be a rebel But the rebel found me when i was baby So dont get mad if i get an urge to **** Just give up the what the what Tha real the real the muthaphukkin real
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44
I sometimes miss When I was a kid And all the crazy things That I always did As it's awfully hard To get used to this Playing the old **** part Like nobodies biz All this growing up Is mostly out to lunch Will you pass the peas Thank you very much Growing bounds and leaps Pretty as you please What's in front, behind And beside of me With a wrinkle here And a wrinkle there Along with balding spots In my graying hair And a belly, Budda Would be proud of As I haven't missed Too many times at lunch With a memory That's hard to find As this wandering mind Gets lost at times If I had the chance To do it all again I'll show you where If you tell me when Cause I sometimes miss When I was a kid And all the crazy things That I always did...
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Jan 19, 2016
Jan 19, 2016 at 10:21 PM UTC
Missing This Kid
The heart of man acknowledges that there is a superior entity who is greater than him That this figure is supreme And must be revered 'cause this being has the abilities to Provide for his needs Protect him from harm or his enemies Rescue him from his problems Answer his unanswered questions In a quest to connect to this paramount being Man has found him/her/it in various things/creatures/names/ideas/spirits Stone, Cow, Carved items, Jesus, Mohammed, Budda, God, Universe, Moon, Stars, Sango, Satan The list is endless...
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May 16, 2019
May 16, 2019 at 8:35 AM UTC
Religion
white snow covered mountains another path for the laughter of Hindu Budda
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Apr 14, 2015
Apr 14, 2015 at 11:57 AM UTC
Another Path