"certificate" poems
Dear Miss ********,
We regret to inform you that unfortunately at this time we do not have space for you at our company.
Yours,
Xxxx xxxxxxxx
Dear Miss *******,
We regret to inform you that unfortunately at this time we cannot offer you a place with our company as you are under qualified.
Yours ** xxxxx
Dear Miss ********,
Thank you for your application. We regret to inform you that you are over-qualified for the position.
Yours, xxxxxxx ***
Dear Miss ******,
I don’t think so love. This isn’t even a letter, this is my managerial position on you handing me your cv.
Cheers, bahbye now
Dear Miss *******,
This isn’t really a letter either, but despite how un-pc this is, we can’t hire you due to your gender.
Thanks anyway, save your paper.
Dear Miss ********,
Thank you for your application, unfortunately we had stronger applicants.
Yours, etc., aaaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaa
Dear Miss ********,
Thank you for your application. Unfortunately we are not hiring at the moment even though we had advertised the job you applied for.
Yours, xxxxxxxxx xxxxx
Dear Miss ********,
We had left it between you and another applicant, and couldn’t decide so we flipped a coin, and she won. You’re a lovely girl though.
Yours, fffffff ffff fffff
Dear Miss ********,
I refer to your claim for Jobseekers Benefit/Assistance at VVVVVV’s CCCCCC local office. Jobseekers Benefit/Assistance claims are subject to periodic review, consequently, I would appreciate if you would attend this office for interview on the 31/17/78 and bring the following :
1. Proof of Identity (i.e. Passport or Driving Licence or Long version of your Birth Certificate)
2. Proof of Residency (e.g. Letter from landlord/ Rent Book/ Lease/ Mortgage Receipt/ Letter from Parents + Household Bill)
3. Written Proof of recent job applications and replies.
4. Proof of job applications made through FAS
5. FAS courses applied for.
6. A copy of your Curriculum Vitae (CV): unemployed from
7. If your spouse/partner is an adult dependent on your claim, please bring his/her GNIB and Passport/Travel Documents.
Failure to respond to this letter may lead to suspension or disallowance of claim.
Yours sincerely,
**** *****
Local Officer
Feb 15, 2013
Feb 15, 2013 at 10:26 AM UTC
Thousands of us were displaced
Started careers late
Not lucky enough to have had great jobs
So we work hard
Put ourselves through night school
While taking care of family
Finally ...
Yes, yeah, whoopee
Did it !
Once again completed school
Another certificate added to the growing list of achievements.
More bills owed to uncle Sam
Going on numerous job interviews
No one's responding
Instead ...
All this knowledge stored in your head
Current jobs pays minimum wages
Those colleges attended; mounting
When you try to get ahead -
They hold on to their employments
As if,
It's Rocket science
Looking for younger, greener admits
Once AARP comes a knocking on
Your door
You know they don't want your
Expertise anymore
What's one to do
Still strong, healthy, seasoned
Educated, no strings to boot
Hopelessly stuck in a world of
"We will call you "
So at the tender age of fifty
Thoughts of starting your own business floats in your head
Right
Now, back to school
For another certificate
A chance to use that knowledge
Put bread on the table
Feel useful
Quality of life renewed.
JRap /2016
Sep 22, 2016
Sep 22, 2016 at 1:46 PM UTC
The already preset disposition of being Asian.
I must've been accidentally mixed in the wrong laundry basket,
because they tell me I'm white-washed.
Born with foreign looks but a native tongue
my birth certificate calls me *****
I would be the blonde-hair-blue-eyes of a country on the other side of the world
but here,
I'm still considered an immigrant
in my own home.
When you are Asian-American,
you are also the stereotypes that trail your title.
You are sushi
You are jackie-chan
You are karate
You are good grades
You are the slant-eyed pignose supporting character
WELCOME TO THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
LAND OF THE FREE, HOME OF THE BRAVE
WHERE UNITED IS TRANSLATED AS DISCRIMINATED!
BUT DON'T GET IT TWISTED, ASIANS ARE PRETTY COOL!
Excuse me straight misogynist white male,
your Godzilla type of Asian,
or my culture?
When have I
as an individual
played a character in these quote on quote American movies?
Hmm oh yeah, that's right!
I was in Fast and Furious!
Didn't I also make an appearance in Harry Potter as the cute innocent
Cho Chang?
If this also applies to you can I please have your autograph
because I'm pretty sure I've seen you star in every movie
I've ever seen.
Or at least your people, right?
Don't try to tone down the damage
I already know I'm categorized in this Asian fetish
that all you'll ever see in me is rice and anime,
nothing more, nothing less.
And if I were to become an author instead of a doctor,
I'd be considered as a social unnorm
a disgrace
but isn't it already disgraceful that in this bleached-colors world
I have lost touch of my heritage,
my roots replaced with a skeleton idea of who I'm supposed to be
I wear a mask.
My friends speak to my mom in their native language.
Sitting there,
disoriented,
lost in pronunciation
I ask my mother why she did not teach me her natural tongue.
She says,
"because you are American."
And I still do not believe her.
Oct 13, 2014
Oct 13, 2014 at 11:48 PM UTC
My hijab is a piece of imagination
a symbol of Islamic populism,
yet I get carried away by racists
misjudging my outer belief, only
for the sake of white extremists,
I cry and wet my birth certificate!
why am I a Muslim? Is it my choice?
I see a minute third-piece frame
down the lane-a sorrow to share,
it chokes my individuality- an insult
to my devotion for god, for life ;
yet, people have the time to call
us terrorists when they roam naked,
some pretending to be feminists
and lovers! Reality is a bitter piece
of chocolate melting away as time fades,
as it erodes the values we held before,
20th century is still marred by those
who wish to keep their history books
unfolded, un-kept and unstated;
a wish down the memory lane is needed
for it will awaken the senses of my fellow
brothers and sisters fighting over a shawl
covering my head!
I am curious and this curiosity is not a mere
joke, its the curiosity weaved into a cloth
hiding my sensitive and strong brain
from those “all-seeing” eyes around me,
pretending to expose my hair as if it was
something of utmost importance and value,
but friends, it’s nothing, it’s a trick
by those who seek to humiliate me and
my faith for god, and I am sure that this
will echo for the decades to come,
for me, a hijab is – “ a piece of head
covering worn by women of the world”;
and I am sure that our fight for the right
to wear something will reprimand
and will be carried out by my fellow
successors and those who shed light
to our cries and woes in this big world
of ours!
[AMEN]
Mar 11, 2017
Mar 11, 2017 at 12:53 AM UTC
each new shake of the square box,
another white stick.
the lighter to burn her death certificate
after her lips have already signed.
Feb 5, 2013
Feb 5, 2013 at 8:56 PM UTC
Better the gorillas of Rwanda are given birth certificate
Within a brief while of their visiting the earth,
Their security is guaranteed by the state machinery
Basking in the full confidence of three meals a day,
Not wary of political repression based on suspicion,
They have a national day in their honour
Fully agitated for clean environment
By the political incumbentcy,
They are now the first class citizens
As the Rwandese citizens of human origin
Of varied political stand suffer under agony
In prisons and exiles, jails and hideouts
On the run for ever for fear of their lives.
Jul 27, 2014
Jul 27, 2014 at 8:34 AM UTC
It wasnt long before the baluster flapped somewhere in the distance and Icarus knew how old he had been on the day of his birth. For whatever reason, the snow capped cappuccinos he had willfully destroyed in a heated debate on fiscal policy had him beginning again. Why was there always a beginning where there was an end? Fur traders used to circumnavigate the Hudson's Bay of his humanity when he was young, sharing drinks and fire water whiskey like it was all an H2O ready for the soul search. Sadly, many ended up in Hitlers concentration camps weeks after the **** invasion of Poland, about a month or so before the fall of the Roman Empire. Beginning with a last breath, Icarus strode off the plank with a new-found confidence unnatural in his niceties of long past. It was as if 1 minute and 35 seconds was enough to dish a clamouring populace onto the dinner table before the fat step-father gleefully orders
everyone to 'dig in, everyone!'
Cancelling everyone's appointment with Dr. Pardon meant the gaining of a key participatory certificate in El Dorado, and the gold lingering in dusty sun-beams was sifted for the taking. Some got rich, the rest got miserable. The rest used to imagine the gold, staring at ivory towers and lottery tickets, apple cores lording over old public servant applications near the city hall drain pipes as the modern world collapsed into a flash-mob image of Ronald Reagan.
Icarus was a sliver of duskish light flittering a top distant windowsills, all cupped in an intentional light because happiness was as possible as sadness. Not that considering either would make you either.
Icarus slept as his wings incinerated at the first glimpse of the solar system. He now believed every single proverb the old ***** slumbers had whispered their children as they woke to find themselves adults.
In the beginning he found the beginning beginning again. It made him feel however you wish. Both were just as possible. Both were just as much a jazz configuration as a smooth and easy guitar rift.
Ahha!
Apr 1, 2013
Apr 1, 2013 at 5:31 PM UTC
It is when we hit the teen end, does the world follow the third law.
We get trapped in the beauty of fear, fear of falling behind.
We need a guarantee. A certificate will do that.
Lately, life fits into earning and burning of hard money.
What does the future hold? The great worry.
It's all about numbers, and they say 'us' can not be quantified.
What is this all about? Sit back and think.
Here life options serve as counting thin lines.
Where does the truth hold?
Wait for a novel to delta your philosophy or is your will a build of simplicity.
Chaos holds fear yet a win, but Simplicity my friend is the truth searched by the one hiding within.
Life Hacking is a way of living. Those who follow it might find themselves happy and at peace.
Its all about being in control.
You can be your own teacher, your own university.
Learn, not to earn but to understand.
And create, and innovate, and be different.
Have the courage to believe that you can change the world, because if not people like you, the modern society would not have existed.
You are the fuel to the engine that runs the world.
Don't waste it in being regular, Be Different.
Because, People who are crazy enough to think that they can change the world are the ones who do.
Hack your Life, Be the Change.
Jan 15, 2015
Jan 15, 2015 at 8:04 AM UTC
It can be Frustrating to look so mean
When Success presents your Certificate
And Honest Fans some to most turn so Green
When their Tangent Voices are celibate
Now my only Say to unsoak the Blame
Is when that Sponge within Speaks without Words
You know it as HEART; That Character sane,
Serene discharge of Flavoured Bees and Birds
Even when Flowers rebel and Worms spit
Still your Compassion can embrace them all
Believe this: In, to Out, Around and Fit
Past the Royal Egg survive a Great Fall.
It's been there in you; And all of this Time
My Lesson to learn from Wise Owls behind.
Mar 10, 2013
Mar 10, 2013 at 8:47 PM UTC
whats wrong whats wrong whats wrong whats wrong whats wrong whats wrong whats wrong whats wrong whats wrong whats wrong whats wrong whats wrong whats wrong whats wrong whats wrong whats wrong whats wrong whats wrong whats wrong whats wrong whats wrong
oh!lots of things (she says this real quiet, not
quite a whisper, and you wonder and think for a
while about it
is she sad? you dont think even God knows,
or whoever made the World)
when I'm Old, I will create the world anew
sweeten flowers and trees and leafy things (or,
or, or,
bury all the seeds,and wait a thousand years
for them to grow tall and big and Strong)
how dead are you how dead are you how dead are you how dead are you how dead are you how dead are you how dead are you how dead are you how dead are you how dead are you how dead are you how dead are you how dead are you how dead are you how dead are you
stamp something on it! make my death
certificate official! i'm in love i'm in love i'm in
love i'm in love!
she screams! and she thinks that finally, God, or
whoever made the World, can hear her!
i'm going to put stickers on everything!
(you believe her)
and will the trees grow strong again? and will
they breathe?
the forest is on fire, but
i think it's only in your mind
your teeth are missing your teeth are missing your teeth are missing your teeth are missing your teeth are missing your teeth are missing your teeth are missing your teeth are missing your teeth are missing your teeth are missing your teeth are missing your teeth are missing
your teeth are missing your teeth are missing
i believe you this time: she says, quiet but not
as much as before
she is painting Doors and Walls and Ceilings, all
in gold
gold on gold on gold on gold on gold
wow! are you a work of art? can i take you
home?
do you want to go home? or, i guess,
do you want to go to the mountains or the sea
or the forest or a lake or even the sky, maybe?
tell me, i'll take you there i promise! wherever
you want to go
free of charge.
- where is the boat going?
and she says, gosh! anywhere we want it to!
Apr 6, 2015
Apr 6, 2015 at 10:04 PM UTC
Names are funny.
Have you ever wondered what your name would be if your parents didn't name you?
I'm one of the lucky few
that know.
If my parents didn't name me,
my name would be
Timothy.
You see, apparently,
when two people love each other,
Mommy cheats on Donny
with daddy and all three
demonize the baby.
Unfortunately,
abortion isn't an option.
Poor Donny believes
his little Johnson
made a tiny Willie
but really
it's Mike's Rick.
The trick wasn't revealed
until
Donny signed the birth certificate.
Obviously, Karen's husband abandoned their family.
Mike ripped his love from her and gave it to Dominique.
Karen,
twice-scorned,
mid-divorce,
postpartum,
decides a shelter isn't suitable for a nameless infant.
At this point, it's a little too late for abortion.
Nowhere to go,
knowing she can't stay,
Adoption became the practical option.
The noxious auction caused a nauseous reaction to her conscious. Karen picked the option, least pompus, with the most promise. An intuitively honest Christian was brought to her room so she could sign the synopsis.
As she's reviewing the terms of this blood oath, she glances at both of the parents cradling her second baby boy. They turn and ask
"What is his name?"
"I don't know. I thought he was going to be a she so I had the name Sade."
"That's ok, we have a perfect name in mind. Timothy."
Feb 26, 2017
Feb 26, 2017 at 5:26 PM UTC
She dragged a steak knife
across her forehead.
I said,
What the **** is your--
Hey, we all have problems.
She killed herself with
the memory
of a system.
Everyone was begging.
Beg. Beg. Beg.
Make me a star!!
I want to be
Kurt Cobain!!
So, they dragged blades
and did smack.
Tweeted lyrics
and took selfies
with a poster of--
But she was never alive, right?
There can't be a her
if there's a me.
But I suppose what it condensed
is bound to
shoot out into
itty
bitty
stars.
Good ******* Christ,
redeem the men and women
slaughtering genitals.
Grinding against
the hole in society.
Are you ******* serious?
Oh my god,
I will die if he takes off
his skin!!
What a hunk.
It was all elaborate
and people were saying
"droll".
That's a thing.
Everyone was ******* lame.
Then, the men stripped.
One, Jupiter.
One, Titan.
And what was stopped
was a hurried whisper,
traveling the confines
of the classroom.
And the men
clothed. And the instruments
unused.
Sketches ceased before creation.
Paint without purpose.
What a Greek tragedy.
Boo-fucking-hoo.
What I could only imagine
a slurry of too many words
aiming at my brain.
The mention of us all.
You don't understand.
**** you.
She dragged a steak knife
across her forehead.
I said,
What the **** is your problem?
Apr 9, 2015
Apr 9, 2015 at 11:46 PM UTC
Corina Junghiatu is a bilingual poet/writer hailing from Romania. She holds a Master Degree in Philology and Phychopedagogy and likewise she graduated from The Faculty of Letters and Philosophy in Bucharest. She speaks five foreign languages.
Corina has written and publishing two books of poetry: „Exile in the light” and „The ritual of a Sunrise”. She is Administrator and Publication Coordinator of Motivational Strips, editor of "Bharath Vision" website, and Chief Advisor of World Nations Writers' Union Kazakhstan. Corina has won many awards from international institutions of repute, for poetry.
Recently, Corina Junghiatu, together with 350 poets and writers from 80 countries, received a certificate of appreciation for her entire literary activity, on the occasion of the 74th anniversary of the Independence Day of the Republic of India. This certificate was was handed by the famous writer Shiju H. Pallithazheth the Founder of Motivational Strips, World's Most Active Writers Forum and Padma Shree Dr. Vishnu Pandya, President of Gujarat Sahitya Akademy, a government institution of the state of Gujarat (India).
Aug 31, 2020
Aug 31, 2020 at 10:45 AM UTC
And then we are called Negro’s
and feel like that is so much better.
As if it’s not the same derogatory word
now its just more “sophisticated.”
Used in lyric like it’s the only word that rhymes with everything.
Since its 2010 you think we are not like Emmett Till, but we are.
The only difference is we shoot our own guns and one by one we make our own selves obsolete.
The “N” word flowing out of the mouths of our newer generations as if it’s the government given name stamped on every black persons’ birth certificate.
Like there was never a revolution
Like there was never a fight to bring us up to what is seemingly equal to everyone else.
You are what brings us down again.
Hearing the yells of one black man to another in conversation “can a ***** get…”
(insert a stereotypical ending here)
No a ***** can’t get nothin’. That is what has been repeatedly told to the race as a whole.
Burned into our minds like the branding of a cow.
Each time the “N” word is uttered out of another’s mouth its like a gravitational pull that scientist have yet to discover.
More powerful than any black hole.
Like ***** in a barrel. We strive to keep the others at our level.
Ask Fredrick Douglas, it’s his expertise…
As he was one of the original ****** Breakers; we have multiplied the frequency and have unknowingly become professionals at something we never strived to be.
The “N” word flows out of our mouths and through the air like the historical dance it took to get us here.
The dance we have long forgotten but our bodies seem to react the same way whenever an Anglo-Saxon uses our coveted word.
Like it wasn’t the word they yelled as they made permanent welts on our backs that would last generations
Like it wasn’t what they yelled at us to strip away every individualistic quality
They referred to us as if we were herds
Like it wasn’t their term to begin with. We should let them have it.
We are like the modern generations of our ancestral princes and princesses of Africa.
As powerful as they once were, we have mastered fields that others wish they had a chance to accomplish in.
We were built to overcome any obstacle.Other than the obstacle of getting out of our own way.
It is no longer like the underground railroad.
There are no hounds chasing us through the waters.
****** should no longer be the tether that holds us down
We have the ability to soar like a majestic bird that shall always remain unnamed.
As ****** we are nothing. As African American’s we are an impenetrable strength.
Dec 31, 2011
Dec 31, 2011 at 12:00 PM UTC
Every time my father is late from the front line
Sickness strikes my mother
and I tour with her the hospitals of Najaf.
I write to him ‘come back to us now,
Make your sergeant read my words: I am about to die’.
He returns my letter, laughing:
‘We are the amusement of the blindman’.
Oh, you River of Jasim, you tore my years
Between my father’s assumed victories
And my mother’s wishes in the emergency room;
They used to plant hope in her mind
By sticking on the glass door,
Two notices confirming: (awaiting death certificate).
Her heart ages so fast
And I ***** from hearing the chants.
Every time the presenter says ‘Victory is on the horizon’,
My grandmothers’ eyes rise to the ceiling -
She hides a mocking smile.
With rage I scream at the screen ‘no victory’s coming’.
She whispers: ‘god is generous’.
‘You sound like my father when I asked for new toys’.
She quietens and we contend,
Awaiting his return before a new battle,
Fearing that a last fight may end the life of a dove.
May 27, 2016
May 27, 2016 at 12:54 PM UTC
1030
That Such have died enable Us
The tranquiller to die—
That Such have lived,
Certificate for Immortality.
2.5k
996
We’ll pass without the parting
So to spare
Certificate of Absence—
Deeming where
I left Her I could find Her
If I tried—
This way, I keep from missing
Those that died.
2.5k
Goodnight pumpkin, I luv you. L-U-V U.
Dear mom,
Nothing ****** me off more than misspelling the word Love.
If you’re not willing to put two seconds into a text or even a letter
to spell it correctly, then you need a ******* dictionary.
The only time you looked into a dictionary was to find words big enough so they could fit through ears but not into my brain making it easier for lies to flow out of your mouth like it is second nature.
The only truth that ever spit out of your mouth like lemon juice, was when you told us, not all lives have happy endings.
But when you were still here, and I was only eight,
you let me watch disney movies so I could learn my own fate.
One of the movies taught me that if I said Ohana means family,
that you’d respond with,
family means no one gets left behind, or forgotten
But you left your kids to pursue Your happiness,
Now every time you leave to Pennsylvania another memory of us flies away from the airport you call a body just like the planes you get on,
Your lies create a tornado that destroys everything in it’s path,
and my life is a flat ground so this spiral of emotions won’t stop until you do.
You circled your yin-yang arms around me for the first time in the hospital, that was the same night people in white coats handed you a certificate with my name written on it, Now anytime my name is brought up in a subject you pull your hoodie over your head as a sign of embarrassment.
I want you to feel the pain you have been giving me for the last 2
years when you hear this poem.
I want you to realize that you’re the reason my feelings are
scribbled down to make a mess out on paper.
Every night I make a new river with my tears and when I realize you are
lying to me, it makes waves of depression
and those waves, are created by earthquakes of anger.
These waves are strong enough to break through any hoover dam
made up of antidepressants and pills that will only make me what
you want me to be which is “normal”?
If you tell someone you love them at least have the audacity to
mean it.
Be a the definition of a mom and care about us and our
feelings, and not just your own.
Mom, I-L-O-V-E-Y-O-U
Ohana means Family, but no one said family would last forever. But
you always will last forever, in my heart
Feb 27, 2015
Feb 27, 2015 at 10:37 AM UTC
I happen to live in Central Indian-
Forests, I collect wood and honey
And have no idea about English woods
And Manchester clothes, I belong
To the soil, I’m anti national?
I live on concessions, subsidies
And support, And You call me-
‘Dark skinned untouchable’; today
I don’t have bells over my neck
I’m proud of me, I’m anti national?
I always spoke of empowerment,
Marx and Che run my blood and
I’m a utopian reality to you
But you cannot ignore my voice
I’m not outdated, I’m anti national?
I believe in ‘being human’ above all-
Traits, I live beyond geographies
And I cannot stand war and bloodshed
You brand me as an activist, I’m
Just humane, I’m anti national?
I do not belong to the 80% of our
Country’s population, but I’m as
Much a patriot as you, My God
Is same as yours, How am I an
Alien? I’m anti national?
I don’t believe in the power and safety
You claim with a nuclear reaction.
I see only explosions and devastation
I want my children to be safe, I love
The world, I’m anti national?
I don’t like vegetables, I eat meat-
Since birth. I will not force-feed you,
I respect your choice and I expect you
To be tolerant to what I cook-
At my home, I’m anti national?
I’m not Pakistani but I love them
As much I love an American or an
European. After all, we share
Our borders. I want to settle all
Disputes, I’m anti national?
I married a man outside my tribe,
Love didn’t notice his 'official tribe',
Our children are a mixed tribe
And we celebrate life as it is,
We’re human-tribe, I’m anti national?
I stand with them with rainbow flags,
They deserve justice as much as you
And me. Give me one valid reason to
Call them unnatural? I want S377
To be scrapped, I’m anti national?
I celebrate my country’s diversity,
I don’t need your certificate to prove
My patriotism! This is India, I stand
With my constitution and its democracy
And I give a **** about what you think!
Feb 19, 2016
Feb 19, 2016 at 9:21 AM UTC
Glad to see you, the ORANGE hatted man said to the YELLOW shirted Person seated in the FULL Reclining Chair, WHICH *By the *way, was ONLY in the Half Back Position. Being in the Half-Back Position allowed the YELLOW shirted Person to respond in Just a Slightly UPLIFTED EYE ANGLE !! And, the ORANGE Hatted man, Peering Down, with Head ***** Gave EACH of them an EQUAL Opposition Eye Angle of 22 Degrees EXACT ! ! Now, to Verify the fact of Equal Opposition, the PROTRACTOR MAN arrived promptly on the scene to Evaluate the Situation.. He (protractor-man) Had , for the Very FIRST-TIME, been especially Called for this HISTORIC Moment . YES,,YES,, For the very "FIRST-TIME" Equal Opposition between an ORANGE hatted man and a YELLOW shirted person, USING the Measurement of "ALL-MEANING", *THAT IS:: "The Protractor of Life"... This Historic moment would forever be Relished by Another Member of THE SOCIETY , BUT it was up to the Assigned Protractor Man to Assure all Interested Parties, That the ANGLE of Exactness was * C O R R E C T ! ! OR....it wouldn't COUNT ! OH DEAR GOD,,"THOUGHT" the assigned Protractor man, Let my Measurements be CORRECT ! ! The ORANGE Hatted man continued to Patiently Peer at the YELLOW shirted person seated in the :HALF-BACK * Position in the Full Reclining Chair.. A Trumpet Blast form a BRONZE Bassoon,, announced the arrival of a SPECIAL LADY ;Fully Gowned in STARTLING PINK AND Glimmering WHITE PEARLS , adorning Her Neck and SUN-KISSED" DIAMONDS flashed from her Fingers. In her Right hand she firmly grasped an envelope. She Careful in her opening ,as if it were a SEVEN-SEALED SCROLL ** Pulled out the PURPLE with GOLD INLAY INSCRIPTION ,"CERTIFICATE OF APPROVAL " FOR THE Magnificent level of ACHIEVEMENT by the ORANGE hatted and YELLOW shirted man ,VERIFIED BY AN "UN-COLORED " PROTRACTOR-MAN" "HEAVENLY" PRAISES AND ACCOLADES FILLED THE AIR** AND A "BOOMING-THUNDERING VOICED" "NOT-EVERYTHING WILL BE IN......."B L A C K & W H I T E " ! !
Dec 13, 2010
Dec 13, 2010 at 3:26 AM UTC
Im tryna
Build a house of gold
But its a straw world, where dey
Freely give diseases and sell antidotes
World, INC.
Commercialised population control
No sovereign man, no sovereign state
Big Bank make the rules
The police are corporate agents
And prisons are big business
Under a government
That's been bankrupt for a century
My straw man is a Trust,
"MY NAME" in all caps on a certificate
As a Citizen
My assets, labour, and energy
Was promised as commerce to back this fictional entity
The fight is perpetual as long as we concede with this system
Really,
Is suicide escape or submission?
Wana vow to my people
To be there when they awake but its hopeless
*** in the near and distant future
I can see no changes
Fake smiles as a hypocrite
And all I can do is injustice
As long as I accept it
Is Man the peak of expression,
And is samsara his polarity?
In a non-meta way I aint happy
Oct 1, 2020
Oct 1, 2020 at 5:02 PM UTC
next to prime rib
is a miniature fir
or bush
lumberjacked at
the trunk
you press like a bobblehead
plugging nostrils with green
steam and shake and
nobody wants to spitspoil red meat
and everyone agrees
so you collect veggie trees
arrange them in a forest
and reenact little red riding hood
with a cherry tomato
you bite -
you ******* werewolf
vampire where were you
when the fetus
crowned like a tulip pistil
harnesses by an umbilical noose
and the nurse paused and said
she's dead
and cried
and she cried too
while I waited with her father
her mother
and mine
and three friends
and nine months of this
for that
you ******* ******
not even john hancock
can sign a birth certificate
and a death certificate
in a nightmare
let alone in one night
Oct 4, 2010
Oct 4, 2010 at 9:13 PM UTC
They wrap their arms
tightly around the other's
veined neck
clawing maniacally with
exposed teeth
and wild eyes.
a certificate;
their names as one,
ripped to shreds
but apparently
still valid.
and somehow,
when it's my turn,
I fantasise my arms
would lay limp
and his will, too.
But maybe
it's a glimmer of hope
of a candle in
interminable night--
wishful thinking.
Silly girl--
there is no romance
without menace.
May 10, 2015
May 10, 2015 at 3:46 AM UTC