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"comrade" poems
My my, what a special little snowflake. Why did you choose to be this way? You chose to be different, you chose to rebel. No binary for me! You chose the grief, the pain. You chose this abuse, bruised by the verbal ferociousness, forged by physical fallacies To be thrown out of bathrooms because doing your business in the bathroom is abysmal. You chose to be derided by decisive discrimination. You chose to be murdered by misconceptions, ***** by ridiculous requirements. You chose to be beaten, assaulted. You chose the words I weave to weaken your will. You chose the sacred sermons I spit at you. You chose to be What I find disgusting, despicable because you chose to be what you aren't, but I realize what I really regard you to be. My my, what a special little bigot. You think I chose to be this way? You think I chose the injuring, injustice, the jester, the joke the target, tortured, This pain, my poison, the prey, praying, the sinner of sins so bittersweet, So I could be "special"? Special isn't a sacrifice of physical self Nor the gunshots and gruesome grief Nor even the crass comfort of a half-assed comrade. You think I CHOSE this, and you didn't choose to spit and spew your sour speeches to disperse your disgust in discrimination to integrate your ignorance into my existence. Or did you not choose to deal the abuse by your hand yourself? My special little bigot, You live as you are. So be it, if I am so "special", the special little snowflake. Yes, we are the little snowflakes that your palm's presence melts away, And you're that burning persistence of life Blocking with your own self our slow, wistful descent, As if it were futility and not of your own will. If I am the snowflake, you are the fire.
0
May 26, 2015
May 26, 2015 at 8:42 PM UTC
zach-hanlon
Special Little Snowflake
My my, what a special little snowflake. Why did you choose to be this way? You chose to be different, you chose to rebel. No binary for me! You chose the grief, the pain. You chose this abuse, bruised by the verbal ferociousness, forged by physical fallacies To be thrown out of bathrooms because doing your business in the bathroom is abysmal. You chose to be derided by decisive discrimination. You chose to be murdered by misconceptions, ***** by ridiculous requirements. You chose to be beaten, assaulted. You chose the words I weave to weaken your will. You chose the sacred sermons I spit at you. You chose to be What I find disgusting, despicable because you chose to be what you aren't, but I realize what I really regard you to be. My my, what a special little bigot. You think I chose to be this way? You think I chose the injuring, injustice, the jester, the joke the target, tortured, This pain, my poison, the prey, praying, the sinner of sins so bittersweet, So I could be "special"? Special isn't a sacrifice of physical self Nor the gunshots and gruesome grief Nor even the crass comfort of a half-assed comrade. You think I CHOSE this, and you didn't choose to spit and spew your sour speeches to disperse your disgust in discrimination to integrate your ignorance into my existence. Or did you not choose to deal the abuse by your hand yourself? My special little bigot, You live as you are. So be it, if I am so "special", the special little snowflake. Yes, we are the little snowflakes that your palm's presence melts away, And you're that burning persistence of life Blocking with your own self our slow, wistful descent, As if it were futility and not of your own will. If I am the snowflake, you are the fire.
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49
Cast a Vast Million Colored Words, a Canvas of Solace Dedicated to Tajudeen Shah who wrote those words, a fellow poet, a comrade in words. ---------------------------------------- With words we paint, With syllables we embrace, Tasked and ennobled, We are forever fully employed, Missionaries to all, You too, are one as well, Your fate can't be renounced, So, Before you pen words of Lost love, woe begotten troubles, Nature's royal blues and purples, Spirits, demons, speeches, mumbles, First Write the uplifting sounds, Cast a million colored words, Upon a canvas of solace, Bring one molecule of comfort To the misbegotten, to the downtrodden, In any way you can, form matters not, But let this be our mantra shared, Let this be our only morning prayer, A prayer we are obligated to utter, A prayer we are obligated to fulfill. Solace, given, Solace, granted.
0
May 18, 2013
May 18, 2013 at 3:27 PM UTC
nat-lipstadt
Cast a Vast Million Colored Words, a Canvas of Solace
Cast a Vast Million Colored Words, a Canvas of Solace Dedicated to Tajudeen Shah who wrote those words, a fellow poet, a comrade in words. ---------------------------------------- With words we paint, With syllables we embrace, Tasked and ennobled, We are forever fully employed, Missionaries to all, You too, are one as well, Your fate can't be renounced, So, Before you pen words of Lost love, woe begotten troubles, Nature's royal blues and purples, Spirits, demons, speeches, mumbles, First Write the uplifting sounds, Cast a million colored words, Upon a canvas of solace, Bring one molecule of comfort To the misbegotten, to the downtrodden, In any way you can, form matters not, But let this be our mantra shared, Let this be our only morning prayer, A prayer we are obligated to utter, A prayer we are obligated to fulfill. Solace, given, Solace, granted.
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30
We two kept house, the Past and I, The Past and I; I tended while it hovered nigh, Leaving me never alone. It was a spectral housekeeping Where fell no jarring tone, As strange, as still a housekeeping As ever has been known. As daily I went up the stair, And down the stair, I did not mind the Bygone there— The Present once to me; Its moving meek companionship I wished might ever be, There was in that companionship Something of ecstasy. It dwelt with me just as it was, Just as it was When first its prospects gave me pause In wayward wanderings, Before the years had torn old troths As they tear all sweet things, Before gaunt griefs had torn old troths And dulled old rapturings. And then its form began to fade, Began to fade, Its gentle echoes faintlier played At eves upon my ear Than when the autumn’s look embrowned The lonely chambers here, The autumn’s settling shades embrowned Nooks that it haunted near. And so with time my vision less, Yea, less and less Makes of that Past my housemistress, It dwindles in my eye; It looms a far-off skeleton And not a comrade nigh, A fitful far-off skeleton Dimming as days draw by.
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9.4k
Thomas Hardy
The Ghost Of The Past
We two kept house, the Past and I, The Past and I; I tended while it hovered nigh, Leaving me never alone. It was a spectral housekeeping Where fell no jarring tone, As strange, as still a housekeeping As ever has been known. As daily I went up the stair, And down the stair, I did not mind the Bygone there— The Present once to me; Its moving meek companionship I wished might ever be, There was in that companionship Something of ecstasy. It dwelt with me just as it was, Just as it was When first its prospects gave me pause In wayward wanderings, Before the years had torn old troths As they tear all sweet things, Before gaunt griefs had torn old troths And dulled old rapturings. And then its form began to fade, Began to fade, Its gentle echoes faintlier played At eves upon my ear Than when the autumn’s look embrowned The lonely chambers here, The autumn’s settling shades embrowned Nooks that it haunted near. And so with time my vision less, Yea, less and less Makes of that Past my housemistress, It dwindles in my eye; It looms a far-off skeleton And not a comrade nigh, A fitful far-off skeleton Dimming as days draw by.
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40
Lefttard fascist libtard Russian troll loony mother **** ****er freaks stupid idiotic childish rant Antifa **** troll comrade idiots like you tide pod generation snowflakes **** you Marxist serial felon MSM useful idiots street justice fanboy alt.right **** dunal trumpf lunatic leftist ****phile ******* ******* in your *** your ****** *** loser freak pos pack heat ammosexuals smh screwball lefties community organizers trumptards professional agitators if we could ban idiots like you ****you donkey ****s you lying **** comrade Lefttard fascist libtard Russian troll loony mother **** ****er freaks stupid idiotic childish rant Antifa **** troll comrade idiots like you tide pod generation snowflakes **** you Marxist serial felon MSM useful idiots street justice fanboy alt.right culy dunal trumpf lunatic leftist ****phile ******* ******* in your *** your ****** *** loser freak pos pack heat ammosexuals smh screwball lefties community organizers trumptards professional agitators if we could ban idiots like you ****you donkey ****s you lying **** comrade Lefttard fascist libtard Russian troll loony mother **** ****er freaks stupid idiotic childish rant Antifa **** troll comrade idiots like you tide pod generation snowflakes **** you Marxist serial felon MSM useful idiots street justice fanboy alt.right culy dunal trumpf lunatic leftist ****phile ******* ******* in your *** your ****** *** loser freak pos pack heat ammosexuals smh screwball lefties community organizers trumptards professional agitators if we could ban idiots like you ****you donkey ****s you lying **** comrade Lefttard fascist libtard Russian troll loony mother **** ****er freaks stupid idiotic childish rant Antifa **** troll comrade idiots like you tide pod generation snowflakes **** you Marxist serial felon MSM useful idiots street justice fanboy alt.right culy dunal trumpf lunatic leftist ****phile ******* ******* in your *** your ****** *** loser freak pos pack heat ammosexuals smh screwball lefties community organizers trumptards professional agitators if we could ban idiots like you ****you donkey ****s you lying **** comrade Employ all caps and strings of exclamation marks ad lib
0
Feb 22, 2018
Feb 22, 2018 at 8:15 AM UTC
lawrence-hall
Adults Debate Safe Schools
Lefttard fascist libtard Russian troll loony mother **** ****er freaks stupid idiotic childish rant Antifa **** troll comrade idiots like you tide pod generation snowflakes **** you Marxist serial felon MSM useful idiots street justice fanboy alt.right **** dunal trumpf lunatic leftist ****phile ******* ******* in your *** your ****** *** loser freak pos pack heat ammosexuals smh screwball lefties community organizers trumptards professional agitators if we could ban idiots like you ****you donkey ****s you lying **** comrade Lefttard fascist libtard Russian troll loony mother **** ****er freaks stupid idiotic childish rant Antifa **** troll comrade idiots like you tide pod generation snowflakes **** you Marxist serial felon MSM useful idiots street justice fanboy alt.right culy dunal trumpf lunatic leftist ****phile ******* ******* in your *** your ****** *** loser freak pos pack heat ammosexuals smh screwball lefties community organizers trumptards professional agitators if we could ban idiots like you ****you donkey ****s you lying **** comrade Lefttard fascist libtard Russian troll loony mother **** ****er freaks stupid idiotic childish rant Antifa **** troll comrade idiots like you tide pod generation snowflakes **** you Marxist serial felon MSM useful idiots street justice fanboy alt.right culy dunal trumpf lunatic leftist ****phile ******* ******* in your *** your ****** *** loser freak pos pack heat ammosexuals smh screwball lefties community organizers trumptards professional agitators if we could ban idiots like you ****you donkey ****s you lying **** comrade Lefttard fascist libtard Russian troll loony mother **** ****er freaks stupid idiotic childish rant Antifa **** troll comrade idiots like you tide pod generation snowflakes **** you Marxist serial felon MSM useful idiots street justice fanboy alt.right culy dunal trumpf lunatic leftist ****phile ******* ******* in your *** your ****** *** loser freak pos pack heat ammosexuals smh screwball lefties community organizers trumptards professional agitators if we could ban idiots like you ****you donkey ****s you lying **** comrade Employ all caps and strings of exclamation marks ad lib
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2
I will always remember Swinging with you in the night January through December You were my safe place, my light Little sister I always favored Saving me from every scree   Always kind, and rarely untoward Without you, I wouldn't be me The simple sweet moments we have had Laughing, talking, and crying too In everything you were my comrade Even my relationship guru When little, you'd climb into my bed And even now as we are grown Though some pieces have been left unsaid All silence between us is known Lovely little sister Inseparable friend Through the sweet and bitter You are here to the end
0
Oct 3, 2016
Oct 3, 2016 at 11:54 AM UTC
oceanst0rm
Little Sister
I will always remember Swinging with you in the night January through December You were my safe place, my light Little sister I always favored Saving me from every scree   Always kind, and rarely untoward Without you, I wouldn't be me The simple sweet moments we have had Laughing, talking, and crying too In everything you were my comrade Even my relationship guru When little, you'd climb into my bed And even now as we are grown Though some pieces have been left unsaid All silence between us is known Lovely little sister Inseparable friend Through the sweet and bitter You are here to the end
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20
The Dullard A well intentioned Comrade dropped Off a basket of learning Tools for my niece and nephew. Among the colorful array Of big red dogs And purple dinosaurs I find a book titled "God Thought of It First." I paused to consider Pernicious Anemia, Gary, Indiana, Republicans, The Ford Pinto... I sure never would Have thought of it.
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Aug 25, 2015
Aug 25, 2015 at 8:58 AM UTC
outsider-poet-thomas
The Dullard
The Dullard A well intentioned Comrade dropped Off a basket of learning Tools for my niece and nephew. Among the colorful array Of big red dogs And purple dinosaurs I find a book titled "God Thought of It First." I paused to consider Pernicious Anemia, Gary, Indiana, Republicans, The Ford Pinto... I sure never would Have thought of it.
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16
"The revolution is not an apple that falls when it is ripe. You have to make it fall." --Che Guevara Shake the tree as hard as need be, To make the apple fall, Be it green, or red or yellow, Be it ripe or still too green, Succulent or rotten to the core, Shake the tree and make it fall. If shaking the tree does not suffice, Plant a worm most carefully, Let it eat the apple's heart, Break its spirit as it feeds, Sap its strength most thoroughly, then just wait until it falls. But if that tactic also fails, don't lose heart, Rip out the tree's protective bark, Salt its roots, Strike it with chains, Until no beauty remains, And await the apple's fall. And should the ****** tree still stand, And the apple cling to life, Take an axe, Sharpen it well, Chop at the tree, bring it down, Force the apple to the ground. And should the apple still cling, To a branch devoid of life, Douse the shattered, useless tree With gasoline, light a match, And burn apple, branch and tree, All to gloriously fine ash. Do this always in my name, For "If you tremble with indignation at every injustice, Then you are a comrade of mine." Wear my face with pride over your heart, Shake raised fists in indignation, scatter the ashes to the wind, What does it matter that ashes can't be eaten, so long as we win! If interested, you can hear my reading of this poem at https://open.spotify.com/episode/6MlOmVvH3n8QehG1dzH4Za?si=MWl_rE0YQLy3bQvS8dbtOA Author's Note: No political philosophy has wreaked as much misery as Marxism in every country it has touched in the 20th and 21st centuries. Fascism and Marxism are two sides of the same totalitarian coin, and while we rightfully condemn fascists, somehow too many folks in the media, academia, and entertainment worlds continue to have a soft spot for Marxism and Marxists/Communists old and new. Here, I've taken two quotes attributed to Che Guevara whose life has been romanticized in books and movies, including the popular Motorcycle Diaries, that focus on the young revolutionary in a positive light as a freedom fighter. The real revolutionary was quite different--a hardened, cold-blooded murderer who executed countless people without mercy, due process, or regret, including fellow Marxist revolutionaries who disagreed with him. The end justified the means for him and for all Marxists--and their equally deranged polar opposites, fascists.
0
Feb 1, 2019
Feb 1, 2019 at 6:02 PM UTC
VictorDLopez
Che Guevara and the Fruit of the Marxist Revolution
"The revolution is not an apple that falls when it is ripe. You have to make it fall." --Che Guevara Shake the tree as hard as need be, To make the apple fall, Be it green, or red or yellow, Be it ripe or still too green, Succulent or rotten to the core, Shake the tree and make it fall. If shaking the tree does not suffice, Plant a worm most carefully, Let it eat the apple's heart, Break its spirit as it feeds, Sap its strength most thoroughly, then just wait until it falls. But if that tactic also fails, don't lose heart, Rip out the tree's protective bark, Salt its roots, Strike it with chains, Until no beauty remains, And await the apple's fall. And should the ****** tree still stand, And the apple cling to life, Take an axe, Sharpen it well, Chop at the tree, bring it down, Force the apple to the ground. And should the apple still cling, To a branch devoid of life, Douse the shattered, useless tree With gasoline, light a match, And burn apple, branch and tree, All to gloriously fine ash. Do this always in my name, For "If you tremble with indignation at every injustice, Then you are a comrade of mine." Wear my face with pride over your heart, Shake raised fists in indignation, scatter the ashes to the wind, What does it matter that ashes can't be eaten, so long as we win! If interested, you can hear my reading of this poem at https://open.spotify.com/episode/6MlOmVvH3n8QehG1dzH4Za?si=MWl_rE0YQLy3bQvS8dbtOA Author's Note: No political philosophy has wreaked as much misery as Marxism in every country it has touched in the 20th and 21st centuries. Fascism and Marxism are two sides of the same totalitarian coin, and while we rightfully condemn fascists, somehow too many folks in the media, academia, and entertainment worlds continue to have a soft spot for Marxism and Marxists/Communists old and new. Here, I've taken two quotes attributed to Che Guevara whose life has been romanticized in books and movies, including the popular Motorcycle Diaries, that focus on the young revolutionary in a positive light as a freedom fighter. The real revolutionary was quite different--a hardened, cold-blooded murderer who executed countless people without mercy, due process, or regret, including fellow Marxist revolutionaries who disagreed with him. The end justified the means for him and for all Marxists--and their equally deranged polar opposites, fascists.
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39
I'm going to light a sky lantern And send it up in the night sky And watch as it burns so bright Floating above, just like a star It will be my memory of you A friend I have come to love A man I respect completely For now and forever, a brother A comrade in words and poetry My bright star in the night sky
0
Oct 24, 2010
Oct 24, 2010 at 3:59 PM UTC
Darkpoetsoul
327: Sky Lantern
I'm going to light a sky lantern And send it up in the night sky And watch as it burns so bright Floating above, just like a star It will be my memory of you A friend I have come to love A man I respect completely For now and forever, a brother A comrade in words and poetry My bright star in the night sky
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10
Dear comrade, Maybe you are achieving medals for your victory but, actually you are achieving our hearts for your bravery...
0
Apr 26, 2021
Apr 26, 2021 at 3:34 AM UTC
Shwetha
Dear comrade..
Dear comrade, Maybe you are achieving medals for your victory but, actually you are achieving our hearts for your bravery...
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3
I wake up Each morning, Head to my closet, And arm myself With clothes Thick as brick walls. I rummage Through various Pairs of greeve-like Pants Looking for The right foundation On which I Will build The day's Exoskeleton. Fix my hair Like the rest Of mankind. Hair that Acts as the cloak That ascribes me To anonimity. Before I leave I put on the Weight of My outer person, The one which I have carefully Built out of Various yous And none of me. The skin That I Have worn To see my soul Forlorn. I go, parade myself Like a sentinel Emblazoned With all the Merits; Look and behold A hero that Beckons to all who pass A hero who Hides all the dross Of the Inside. The inside of whatever is left Of my Dying kingdom. I go as a bastion With jutted spears And sharpened pikes Wounding those Who advance Whether in peace Or in strife. No, I will not Let anyone Through the gates Of my starving King. All my life I was being Built as a Stronghold. Father, as a mason, Taught me That strength Is measured Through how Much pressure My structure Can endure. Mother, as an artisan, Raised me As a dam That will not break. Taught me That my worth Is measured in the Volumes that I can keep. Suffering be now The mortar That binds all my griefs Together. Pain, ***** Barricades Around my thirsting Prince. Comrade, Stay as a facade; Hide the muck That have accumulated Throughout The years. Lover, break me down. Strip me of all My armor, Break down the walls. Turn my spears Into soft dandelion ***** Wade through the tar And see Through the veil. Unseam All my scars; Bleed me dry Until you reach my core. See me for Who I am. Witness the king That I have deprived. Caress the face Of the prince That I have denied. Satiate my famished spirit, Oh, you, lover of my soul.
0
Nov 12, 2014
Nov 12, 2014 at 8:18 AM UTC
yoda-best
Clothes
I wake up Each morning, Head to my closet, And arm myself With clothes Thick as brick walls. I rummage Through various Pairs of greeve-like Pants Looking for The right foundation On which I Will build The day's Exoskeleton. Fix my hair Like the rest Of mankind. Hair that Acts as the cloak That ascribes me To anonimity. Before I leave I put on the Weight of My outer person, The one which I have carefully Built out of Various yous And none of me. The skin That I Have worn To see my soul Forlorn. I go, parade myself Like a sentinel Emblazoned With all the Merits; Look and behold A hero that Beckons to all who pass A hero who Hides all the dross Of the Inside. The inside of whatever is left Of my Dying kingdom. I go as a bastion With jutted spears And sharpened pikes Wounding those Who advance Whether in peace Or in strife. No, I will not Let anyone Through the gates Of my starving King. All my life I was being Built as a Stronghold. Father, as a mason, Taught me That strength Is measured Through how Much pressure My structure Can endure. Mother, as an artisan, Raised me As a dam That will not break. Taught me That my worth Is measured in the Volumes that I can keep. Suffering be now The mortar That binds all my griefs Together. Pain, ***** Barricades Around my thirsting Prince. Comrade, Stay as a facade; Hide the muck That have accumulated Throughout The years. Lover, break me down. Strip me of all My armor, Break down the walls. Turn my spears Into soft dandelion ***** Wade through the tar And see Through the veil. Unseam All my scars; Bleed me dry Until you reach my core. See me for Who I am. Witness the king That I have deprived. Caress the face Of the prince That I have denied. Satiate my famished spirit, Oh, you, lover of my soul.
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121
For all the time I've know you You've worn a mask upon your face It appeared beautiful, perfect, and friendly But now I realize that wasn't the case For hiding underneath that mask Was a soldier bent on destruction Posing as a comrade fighting for good But following the other side's instruction You wormed your way into our ranks And we accepted you as one of our own But all of us were unaware Your true intentions had not yet been shown When an opportunity presented itself You struck without any hesitation Our troops started dropping left and right Without any sign of infiltration You knew you only had so long though Before your actions got you caught So you moved to abolish your final target A tougher task than you had thought That night, when you attacked me You allowed your mask to fall And as you fled, I caught a glance Of the real person beneath it all Well, "What doesn't **** you makes you stronger" And you make me tougher every day Which is why no matter what you do I refuse to let you stand in my way I learned some valuable lessons About how you fight this war And now those same old boring tactics Won't work here any more So thank you for the knife That you embedded in my back For you just gave me the tool I need To defend against any future attack.
0
Oct 23, 2014
Oct 23, 2014 at 4:42 AM UTC
willow-anne
Betrayal
For all the time I've know you You've worn a mask upon your face It appeared beautiful, perfect, and friendly But now I realize that wasn't the case For hiding underneath that mask Was a soldier bent on destruction Posing as a comrade fighting for good But following the other side's instruction You wormed your way into our ranks And we accepted you as one of our own But all of us were unaware Your true intentions had not yet been shown When an opportunity presented itself You struck without any hesitation Our troops started dropping left and right Without any sign of infiltration You knew you only had so long though Before your actions got you caught So you moved to abolish your final target A tougher task than you had thought That night, when you attacked me You allowed your mask to fall And as you fled, I caught a glance Of the real person beneath it all Well, "What doesn't **** you makes you stronger" And you make me tougher every day Which is why no matter what you do I refuse to let you stand in my way I learned some valuable lessons About how you fight this war And now those same old boring tactics Won't work here any more So thank you for the knife That you embedded in my back For you just gave me the tool I need To defend against any future attack.
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36
Sailor, sailor You lost your anchor You lost your atlas Sailor, sailor You killed your comrades And there's no place on land for you Sailor, sailor They told you to never come back They told you to stop breathing Sailor, sailor And how about all the pain that you felt? Have you lost your heart? Sailor, sailor They hate you You are death itself, they say Sailor, sailor Are the tailor and the midnight boy in peace? Are their ghosts still haunting you? Sailor, sailor Have you lost the fear of that boat? That old broken boat that is you Sailor, sailor Did you feel the smell of home? Your comrades are on land Sailor, sailor How do you navigate on the gorge? How do you fight with the despair? Sailor, sailor I found your anchor and your atlas But they belong to another sir Sailor, sailor Did you give up on your destiny? You abandoned your crew Sailor, sailor Where will be your burial? Because you're dead after all Sailor, sailor If I say that I hate you Because you left your crew? Sailor, sailor You would answer me If I said that I hate you? Sailor, sailor If you're dead after all Why am I a ghost? Sailor, sailor Where is your heart? Because I don't want to suffer anymore Sailor, sailor Who are you after all? Because I'm a spectre of who you've been Sailor, sailor If I **** my comrades And leave the crew Sailor, sailor Am I going to be free from this despair? Will the darkness leave me? Sailor, sailor Why am I so sad If I'm a lonely ghost? Sailor, sailor They say that you are the worst The one who should never have existed Sailor, sailor What does it say about me? If you had not been born after all How could I be here? Sailor, sailor If you recover your anchor and your atlas If you recover your crew Do you accept me? Sailor, sailor If you are alive after all Can you lend me your name? Because I'm tired of suffering Sailor, sailor If I'm your heir Do you let me sail on that old boat? Sailor, sailor Do you let me be the death itself? Because I don't want to suffer anymore. Sailor, sailor Do you let me be just a ghost Wandering aimlessly through the darkness? Sailor, sailor Do you let me **** myself In order that I don't make anyone suffer anymore? Sailor, sailor Why did everything change? It was easier when we were all dreamers Sailor, sailor I want to be a sailor again In order that I can feel the smell of home Sailor, sailor If I'm not a sailor anymore Can I leave the boat? Sailor, sailor I want to embrace the sea Sailor, sailor I want to bleed with the sea. Sailor, sailor I want to understand completely Why I stopped being a sailor Sailor, sailor I'm going to become your comrade We will be dead after all.
0
Dec 3, 2016
Dec 3, 2016 at 10:43 PM UTC
serafeim-blazej
Sailor, sailor
Sailor, sailor You lost your anchor You lost your atlas Sailor, sailor You killed your comrades And there's no place on land for you Sailor, sailor They told you to never come back They told you to stop breathing Sailor, sailor And how about all the pain that you felt? Have you lost your heart? Sailor, sailor They hate you You are death itself, they say Sailor, sailor Are the tailor and the midnight boy in peace? Are their ghosts still haunting you? Sailor, sailor Have you lost the fear of that boat? That old broken boat that is you Sailor, sailor Did you feel the smell of home? Your comrades are on land Sailor, sailor How do you navigate on the gorge? How do you fight with the despair? Sailor, sailor I found your anchor and your atlas But they belong to another sir Sailor, sailor Did you give up on your destiny? You abandoned your crew Sailor, sailor Where will be your burial? Because you're dead after all Sailor, sailor If I say that I hate you Because you left your crew? Sailor, sailor You would answer me If I said that I hate you? Sailor, sailor If you're dead after all Why am I a ghost? Sailor, sailor Where is your heart? Because I don't want to suffer anymore Sailor, sailor Who are you after all? Because I'm a spectre of who you've been Sailor, sailor If I **** my comrades And leave the crew Sailor, sailor Am I going to be free from this despair? Will the darkness leave me? Sailor, sailor Why am I so sad If I'm a lonely ghost? Sailor, sailor They say that you are the worst The one who should never have existed Sailor, sailor What does it say about me? If you had not been born after all How could I be here? Sailor, sailor If you recover your anchor and your atlas If you recover your crew Do you accept me? Sailor, sailor If you are alive after all Can you lend me your name? Because I'm tired of suffering Sailor, sailor If I'm your heir Do you let me sail on that old boat? Sailor, sailor Do you let me be the death itself? Because I don't want to suffer anymore. Sailor, sailor Do you let me be just a ghost Wandering aimlessly through the darkness? Sailor, sailor Do you let me **** myself In order that I don't make anyone suffer anymore? Sailor, sailor Why did everything change? It was easier when we were all dreamers Sailor, sailor I want to be a sailor again In order that I can feel the smell of home Sailor, sailor If I'm not a sailor anymore Can I leave the boat? Sailor, sailor I want to embrace the sea Sailor, sailor I want to bleed with the sea. Sailor, sailor I want to understand completely Why I stopped being a sailor Sailor, sailor I'm going to become your comrade We will be dead after all.
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106
You no longer cross my mind I burned that bridge. You took the wrong hand and left. This time my tears became mathematical, as I watched you walk away they drew 11 on my cheeks. I knew this time you weren't coming back so like dividing a 7 with 3, I remained here. Thinking about you, thinking about us Thinking about that last day you came into my room and we ****** i mean it felt so real I miss U like I am reciting alphabets and skipped the 21th letter. I miss you What 4? Like I was counting 1 2 3 5 and forgot a numeral. May my feelings for you Rest In Peace, like our relationship was a funeral. You were my Hat I couldn't get you off my head, but now the sun is set, I don't need sun rays protection. Like a lawyer can I make an objection, You used to be my babe now you're my 24th alphabet X. Like excuse me, did I date you? What was I thinking Like Ex Curse you, I Hat you now get off my head. I gave you my heart but you took my soul too, Satan. I gave you my Hut but you thought you were so High Class so You couldn't Stay. I called you Rihanna, but you didn't Stay. Just because I begged you not to leave, you thought I was a street kid so like choosing not to go to the right direction you left me Standing there on the streets. Now like a comrade who went exile can you please comeback and UNSAY you love Comeback and UNHUG me Comeback and UNKISS me Comeback and UNLAY next to me on this bed UNLAUGH at my jokes. UNSMILE at me. I want you to UNREAD that letter I wrote you Comeback I want to UNTOUCH you and UNMAKE love to you. Unlove Me.
0
Aug 3, 2015
Aug 3, 2015 at 11:47 AM UTC
siyanda-buthelezi
UNLOVE ME
You no longer cross my mind I burned that bridge. You took the wrong hand and left. This time my tears became mathematical, as I watched you walk away they drew 11 on my cheeks. I knew this time you weren't coming back so like dividing a 7 with 3, I remained here. Thinking about you, thinking about us Thinking about that last day you came into my room and we ****** i mean it felt so real I miss U like I am reciting alphabets and skipped the 21th letter. I miss you What 4? Like I was counting 1 2 3 5 and forgot a numeral. May my feelings for you Rest In Peace, like our relationship was a funeral. You were my Hat I couldn't get you off my head, but now the sun is set, I don't need sun rays protection. Like a lawyer can I make an objection, You used to be my babe now you're my 24th alphabet X. Like excuse me, did I date you? What was I thinking Like Ex Curse you, I Hat you now get off my head. I gave you my heart but you took my soul too, Satan. I gave you my Hut but you thought you were so High Class so You couldn't Stay. I called you Rihanna, but you didn't Stay. Just because I begged you not to leave, you thought I was a street kid so like choosing not to go to the right direction you left me Standing there on the streets. Now like a comrade who went exile can you please comeback and UNSAY you love Comeback and UNHUG me Comeback and UNKISS me Comeback and UNLAY next to me on this bed UNLAUGH at my jokes. UNSMILE at me. I want you to UNREAD that letter I wrote you Comeback I want to UNTOUCH you and UNMAKE love to you. Unlove Me.
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38
A determined existence is Just mental slavery, And you have been forced Into accepting by the Inhumane ********** of A world run by profit. Your god is the same As the monsters with Dollar signs in their eyes. Pay your taxes, Pray to your god, And follow the Golden Rule. Your parents always said that Those were the ingredients For a happy life, right? But they never told you That God and Country We're looking out for Corporate greed and they Won't spare a penny To help you survive. So you have been Blinded to the truth, Corruption so deep, You can't trust anyone. Question everything. Blind faith brought The Two Towers to the ground, And bombed Pearl Harbor. The cross killed millions After Jesus bled for Your right to be a blind bigot, Preaching love and Practicing ruin, Hate because of love and Protection for criminals. When the Catholic Churches Sold out the Star of David, ****** capitalized on the hate To leap to power and Force millions of men to ****** and die over beliefs, And choice in imaginary friends. All you know is fear Of the different and unknown, Taught to you by Your family, church, and country. A mental slavery based On submission, ignorance, Hate and fear. All of this was Carefully constructed To keep you buying, And to keep the same Outdated beliefs, divisions, And people well established. It's all so entrenched in Our society that you Already have misconstrued My message to be an attack On your existence   But you are my comrade, Without arms to fight against The corrupted establishment. So here I am, An arms dealer, Delivering to you Truth and sparks For you to pick up the fight When my rebellion is silenced.
0
Jan 18, 2013
Jan 18, 2013 at 3:59 PM UTC
nicholas-phillips
Mental Slavery
A determined existence is Just mental slavery, And you have been forced Into accepting by the Inhumane ********** of A world run by profit. Your god is the same As the monsters with Dollar signs in their eyes. Pay your taxes, Pray to your god, And follow the Golden Rule. Your parents always said that Those were the ingredients For a happy life, right? But they never told you That God and Country We're looking out for Corporate greed and they Won't spare a penny To help you survive. So you have been Blinded to the truth, Corruption so deep, You can't trust anyone. Question everything. Blind faith brought The Two Towers to the ground, And bombed Pearl Harbor. The cross killed millions After Jesus bled for Your right to be a blind bigot, Preaching love and Practicing ruin, Hate because of love and Protection for criminals. When the Catholic Churches Sold out the Star of David, ****** capitalized on the hate To leap to power and Force millions of men to ****** and die over beliefs, And choice in imaginary friends. All you know is fear Of the different and unknown, Taught to you by Your family, church, and country. A mental slavery based On submission, ignorance, Hate and fear. All of this was Carefully constructed To keep you buying, And to keep the same Outdated beliefs, divisions, And people well established. It's all so entrenched in Our society that you Already have misconstrued My message to be an attack On your existence   But you are my comrade, Without arms to fight against The corrupted establishment. So here I am, An arms dealer, Delivering to you Truth and sparks For you to pick up the fight When my rebellion is silenced.
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70
I wasn't sure what to make of this intergalactic space war. With flying soldiers in old tobacco tins and bullets made out of fingers. I took it upon myself, I suppose to conscript to this chaos, upon the fluffy terrain. Some sort of tyrannous Tyrannosaurus, with a purple top hat had taken over the bunk bed fort. I'd made up my mind. The only thing for it was a straight "Neeeeee-owwwwwwww" into the back of the villainous lizard. My comrade in arms however, felt I wasn't quite suited for this rampant combat. Although, his reason I didn't quite agree with; "You're doing it wrong" he said, rather patronisingly. I guess my little cousin is less of the kamikaze type and more of the tactical warfare nature.
0
Nov 28, 2012
Nov 28, 2012 at 8:57 PM UTC
tomorr
Matchbox Tanks
I wasn't sure what to make of this intergalactic space war. With flying soldiers in old tobacco tins and bullets made out of fingers. I took it upon myself, I suppose to conscript to this chaos, upon the fluffy terrain. Some sort of tyrannous Tyrannosaurus, with a purple top hat had taken over the bunk bed fort. I'd made up my mind. The only thing for it was a straight "Neeeeee-owwwwwwww" into the back of the villainous lizard. My comrade in arms however, felt I wasn't quite suited for this rampant combat. Although, his reason I didn't quite agree with; "You're doing it wrong" he said, rather patronisingly. I guess my little cousin is less of the kamikaze type and more of the tactical warfare nature.
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18
**Little girl, little girl Can you still remember your dream? Little girl, little girl Are you going to be the sun and gleam? Teenage girl, teenage girl Why are they always being mean to you? Teenage girl, teenage girl Can you tell me what I should do? Teenage girl, teenage girl Why did you leave me here alone? Teenage girl, teenage girl You left your comrade in war zone. Teenage girl, teenage girl What's it like up there in the skies? Teenage girl, teenage girl Why did we have to say our goodbyes? Teenage girl, teenage girl I wonder do you see me near you? Teenage girl, teenage girl I have a degree that is near due. Teenage girl, teenage girl I'm so sorry you can't ever age Teenage girl, teenage girl I'm so sorry there's no new page. Adult girl, adult girl I don't know if you exist But I miss you.**
0
Mar 17, 2016
Mar 17, 2016 at 9:24 AM UTC
dissipate
Girl
**Little girl, little girl Can you still remember your dream? Little girl, little girl Are you going to be the sun and gleam? Teenage girl, teenage girl Why are they always being mean to you? Teenage girl, teenage girl Can you tell me what I should do? Teenage girl, teenage girl Why did you leave me here alone? Teenage girl, teenage girl You left your comrade in war zone. Teenage girl, teenage girl What's it like up there in the skies? Teenage girl, teenage girl Why did we have to say our goodbyes? Teenage girl, teenage girl I wonder do you see me near you? Teenage girl, teenage girl I have a degree that is near due. Teenage girl, teenage girl I'm so sorry you can't ever age Teenage girl, teenage girl I'm so sorry there's no new page. Adult girl, adult girl I don't know if you exist But I miss you.**
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27
Speeding along a curved road Eyes watching the asphalt’s twists and turns I happen upon a substantial rock Lying along the road on my course It takes a few seconds for me to realize That big brown rock isn’t what it seems The rock has a yellow neck, legs, a head and tail That beckon me to stop despite what lies ahead My reasoning forces me to ponder on it’s future Will the next car around the curve stop for this comrade Or will it be struck and left for dead? I put my car in park and hurry to pick it up One lonely turtle has found itself being removed From the path of oncoming vehicles Taken to the grassy side of the road Facing the opposite direction In hopes that it will find it’s way far from The impending danger of traffic Now, this one turtle has a better chance At living out it’s life at it’s own slow pace ©2014 by Regina Riddle
0
Jul 26, 2014
Jul 26, 2014 at 1:51 AM UTC
regina-riddle
One Turtle
Speeding along a curved road Eyes watching the asphalt’s twists and turns I happen upon a substantial rock Lying along the road on my course It takes a few seconds for me to realize That big brown rock isn’t what it seems The rock has a yellow neck, legs, a head and tail That beckon me to stop despite what lies ahead My reasoning forces me to ponder on it’s future Will the next car around the curve stop for this comrade Or will it be struck and left for dead? I put my car in park and hurry to pick it up One lonely turtle has found itself being removed From the path of oncoming vehicles Taken to the grassy side of the road Facing the opposite direction In hopes that it will find it’s way far from The impending danger of traffic Now, this one turtle has a better chance At living out it’s life at it’s own slow pace ©2014 by Regina Riddle
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21
*we are witness to atrocities committed by regime over its peoples over time* 1. we are witness.. shattering glass of reality arranged into chosen shard-feeds like omni-gov surveillance into meticulous mind-grafts spluttering eternal-stats for public mind control spewing mini-truths of perpetual war raids disillusionment of history forever rewritten control supply-and-demand create dark-cloaked dilemma and monitor shortage and famine make-believe elements so well played to auto-frenzied latch thinking is degraded and actions.. well, less said 2. diligent and loyal yet harbour secret-hatred feed visions stilted by politrix deception and manipulation propaganda is the oleaginous-game by wand-over-mind totalitarian is the kingpin-holder of cards and yet, who is really being played! eternal marionettes on a conveyor-belt can't even play with yourself alone your **** your **** your every move.. watched - surveyed - and studied by that ubiquitous-bulge eye you cannot escape right opposite your low hard-bed you're broken into popping-parts that YOU won't recognise! thoughtcrime-police is gonna accost ya get up, comrade.. get UUUUUUUUP! 3. we are witness life-tube covered in darkened vapour-swirls we are witness children conditioned to watch their parents.. too closely we are witness truth so smothered, now re-fed by repeat-metaphor we are witness dictata.. dictata.. we are witness austere existence in a tacky one-room flat we are witness subsist on black-wheat and imitation-repast we are witness regurgitate the party-dialect on and on and on (after a while, we end up half-believing.. ) *only the clock which strikes thirteen can smell the charred-reality as leftover-truth is shoved into incendiary obsolescence* tick-a-damn-tock and that would be.. one S T - 26 sept
0
Sep 26, 2013
Sep 26, 2013 at 11:53 AM UTC
st64
we are witness..
*we are witness to atrocities committed by regime over its peoples over time* 1. we are witness.. shattering glass of reality arranged into chosen shard-feeds like omni-gov surveillance into meticulous mind-grafts spluttering eternal-stats for public mind control spewing mini-truths of perpetual war raids disillusionment of history forever rewritten control supply-and-demand create dark-cloaked dilemma and monitor shortage and famine make-believe elements so well played to auto-frenzied latch thinking is degraded and actions.. well, less said 2. diligent and loyal yet harbour secret-hatred feed visions stilted by politrix deception and manipulation propaganda is the oleaginous-game by wand-over-mind totalitarian is the kingpin-holder of cards and yet, who is really being played! eternal marionettes on a conveyor-belt can't even play with yourself alone your **** your **** your every move.. watched - surveyed - and studied by that ubiquitous-bulge eye you cannot escape right opposite your low hard-bed you're broken into popping-parts that YOU won't recognise! thoughtcrime-police is gonna accost ya get up, comrade.. get UUUUUUUUP! 3. we are witness life-tube covered in darkened vapour-swirls we are witness children conditioned to watch their parents.. too closely we are witness truth so smothered, now re-fed by repeat-metaphor we are witness dictata.. dictata.. we are witness austere existence in a tacky one-room flat we are witness subsist on black-wheat and imitation-repast we are witness regurgitate the party-dialect on and on and on (after a while, we end up half-believing.. ) *only the clock which strikes thirteen can smell the charred-reality as leftover-truth is shoved into incendiary obsolescence* tick-a-damn-tock and that would be.. one S T - 26 sept
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56
Let's talk about revenge, with a poem that ignites the fire and then burns an identity. You will find a sleeping monster within you that you have been deliberately ignoring. Let's talk about how an upheaval in the bodies oppressed reality, a war that rages inside our heads. I am a liberation warrior. You are a comrade of struggle. A spirit that is no longer only shown in the metaphor of words or the love of romantic characters in the love life that haunts adolescence a lot. Let's talk about revenge, a fictional monster, and a boy who stands bullied wanting to show his identity in every ******* world order. Losers behold, those who flock! And for he has long been alone, fighting monsters in poisoned brains, and a stomach that is only the main goal of fighting for power, now we are again in vain. Let's talk, really the truth! No love grows other than our love for ourselves. Awaken! Even if neither you are the hero, nor the main character!
0
Apr 2, 2022
Apr 2, 2022 at 4:30 PM UTC
_perihalpuisi
Let's talk about revenge!
Let's talk about revenge, with a poem that ignites the fire and then burns an identity. You will find a sleeping monster within you that you have been deliberately ignoring. Let's talk about how an upheaval in the bodies oppressed reality, a war that rages inside our heads. I am a liberation warrior. You are a comrade of struggle. A spirit that is no longer only shown in the metaphor of words or the love of romantic characters in the love life that haunts adolescence a lot. Let's talk about revenge, a fictional monster, and a boy who stands bullied wanting to show his identity in every ******* world order. Losers behold, those who flock! And for he has long been alone, fighting monsters in poisoned brains, and a stomach that is only the main goal of fighting for power, now we are again in vain. Let's talk, really the truth! No love grows other than our love for ourselves. Awaken! Even if neither you are the hero, nor the main character!
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29
I am a firefly One who hates the night When darkness demolished the sky Loads of monster wants to take our light I remembered my friend Tammy At nighttime, she has the shiny glow of green Her vision to be the greatest firefly who shimmy Alas! Children put her in a jar and destroyed her dream And then, I have a comrade's name Tommy Who love to show his yellow glow? Little he knows that was too dummy Sticky tongue, big eye frog devoured him below I am firefly, who has a red gleam Who always pray to God to take our beam In order for my kin to stop to scream To peacefully spread our wings at night, ‘twas my very dream I am a firefly My name is Timmy 10-28-2015 Mysterious Aries
0
Oct 28, 2015
Oct 28, 2015 at 9:56 AM UTC
MysteriousAries
I Am A Firefly
I am a firefly One who hates the night When darkness demolished the sky Loads of monster wants to take our light I remembered my friend Tammy At nighttime, she has the shiny glow of green Her vision to be the greatest firefly who shimmy Alas! Children put her in a jar and destroyed her dream And then, I have a comrade's name Tommy Who love to show his yellow glow? Little he knows that was too dummy Sticky tongue, big eye frog devoured him below I am firefly, who has a red gleam Who always pray to God to take our beam In order for my kin to stop to scream To peacefully spread our wings at night, ‘twas my very dream I am a firefly My name is Timmy 10-28-2015 Mysterious Aries
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20
you know that option for signing yourself off in a card not simply 'love' or even 'lots of love' the one with the deeper meaning the more you think about it the more it becomes yours truly these two words put together have different intentions there's the 'yours truly' that serves a kind, platonic message there's the 'yours truly' that's meant for business, formal and mandatory but the one this poem happens to be about is the one you write when you want that person to know .... well, wouldn't that be telling? it's a game of interpretation dependent on dynamic not only in the world of cards but in life, in literature, in love see i've had 18 years to ponder this and, you see, the phrase 'yours truly' always reminds me, somehow, of pride & prejudice another 'most ardently' it's one of those phrases that isn't just a phrase it's a message an intention i have never been 'yours truly' not until i met you in a world where intimacy = romance there's you and i more than family in words not yet discovered not yet in the dictionary i could describe us but that time has not yet come and i reckon i'll never find the right words i doubt i could even find the wrong ones nothing has ever really come close nothing but yours truly because you see that's the truth of it, brother i am truly yours and i know what you're thinking this sounds like a love poem and you'd be right it's just not a romantic one i am yours, truly truly yours yours truly in any way you arrange these two words it's perfectly describing you and i yours - because i belong to and with you in a way i never have with anyone else truly - because i couldn't think of a greater truth yours truly meaning; a walking, talking anchor, a source of comfort a however long phone call, a casual distraction in the form of a chat a sentinel at your side, whether physically or not, i'm with you a sister, a brother, a substitute for all and any family you might need a warm, breathing reminder that you are not a **** up, because here i remain a portable, perfectly willing cushion, a simple solution to touch starvation a buddy for those long nights where sleep escapes the both of us, a comrade in insomnia a single, everstanding, ever dilligent and passionate reason to continue living, another life you have saved a fellow adventurer, a fan of not just the things you love but the things you love and owe your happiness to a stubborn loyalty, a fierce, angry, vengeful power that will never dim and never die out, a companion in the worst of times a reason you can rest your weary body at the end of every day and every night without fear of the nightmares or abandonment so george this is a shambles a rambling mess but the point has always been that i am yours truly, alistair.
0
May 29, 2017
May 29, 2017 at 4:48 PM UTC
LETO1971
yours truly
you know that option for signing yourself off in a card not simply 'love' or even 'lots of love' the one with the deeper meaning the more you think about it the more it becomes yours truly these two words put together have different intentions there's the 'yours truly' that serves a kind, platonic message there's the 'yours truly' that's meant for business, formal and mandatory but the one this poem happens to be about is the one you write when you want that person to know .... well, wouldn't that be telling? it's a game of interpretation dependent on dynamic not only in the world of cards but in life, in literature, in love see i've had 18 years to ponder this and, you see, the phrase 'yours truly' always reminds me, somehow, of pride & prejudice another 'most ardently' it's one of those phrases that isn't just a phrase it's a message an intention i have never been 'yours truly' not until i met you in a world where intimacy = romance there's you and i more than family in words not yet discovered not yet in the dictionary i could describe us but that time has not yet come and i reckon i'll never find the right words i doubt i could even find the wrong ones nothing has ever really come close nothing but yours truly because you see that's the truth of it, brother i am truly yours and i know what you're thinking this sounds like a love poem and you'd be right it's just not a romantic one i am yours, truly truly yours yours truly in any way you arrange these two words it's perfectly describing you and i yours - because i belong to and with you in a way i never have with anyone else truly - because i couldn't think of a greater truth yours truly meaning; a walking, talking anchor, a source of comfort a however long phone call, a casual distraction in the form of a chat a sentinel at your side, whether physically or not, i'm with you a sister, a brother, a substitute for all and any family you might need a warm, breathing reminder that you are not a **** up, because here i remain a portable, perfectly willing cushion, a simple solution to touch starvation a buddy for those long nights where sleep escapes the both of us, a comrade in insomnia a single, everstanding, ever dilligent and passionate reason to continue living, another life you have saved a fellow adventurer, a fan of not just the things you love but the things you love and owe your happiness to a stubborn loyalty, a fierce, angry, vengeful power that will never dim and never die out, a companion in the worst of times a reason you can rest your weary body at the end of every day and every night without fear of the nightmares or abandonment so george this is a shambles a rambling mess but the point has always been that i am yours truly, alistair.
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71
The Decider-in-Chief made another hard decision, rebebilitatin a debilitating Gaddafi. The Agog Decider sleekly peeked into the bleak soul of the master Bedouin. The Pious Decider peered pretty deeply, so its hard to tell what his arcane rebelations revealed. Some say The Jaundiced Decider, saw the desert bleeding deliciously malicious sweet crude onto the scabby tongues of Halliburton Executives while Big Time Vice Dickey Boy ****** a petrol nozzle dry, licking the dripped drops that drizzled from the shoot hole, so as not to waste a precious drop to satiate the black viscous goo coursing through the ebony veins of his chingling heart. Others say The Condoning Decider sized up the man and saw a brother-in-arms in the fight against The Evil Doers; yet failed to see the revolting obscenities his new comrade-in-arms inflicted upon his own body politic. The Forgetful Decider, blessed with amnesia forgot Lockerbie and applauded BP's royal court of justice for pardoning all perps. The Oblivious Decider's near sightedness failed to foresee a brewing blow-back amassing in the desert winging its way home on the blasting sands of a blistering Saharan sirocco. The Pollyannish Decider envisioned grand spectacles, only happy visions of Beyonce, JZ, Usher and the Def Jam Buddha Russell Simmons yodeling filthy lucre tunes, sending giggling tweets while partying down with Muammar's posse of martinets and way cool far out crazy execs drunk with the power that blinds the eye to all discernment. The Decider decides. Music Selection: Lady Ga Ga Beyonce, Telephone Oakland 3/3/11 jbm
0
Apr 12, 2013
Apr 12, 2013 at 8:11 PM UTC
james-bradley-mccallum
The Decider
The Decider-in-Chief made another hard decision, rebebilitatin a debilitating Gaddafi. The Agog Decider sleekly peeked into the bleak soul of the master Bedouin. The Pious Decider peered pretty deeply, so its hard to tell what his arcane rebelations revealed. Some say The Jaundiced Decider, saw the desert bleeding deliciously malicious sweet crude onto the scabby tongues of Halliburton Executives while Big Time Vice Dickey Boy ****** a petrol nozzle dry, licking the dripped drops that drizzled from the shoot hole, so as not to waste a precious drop to satiate the black viscous goo coursing through the ebony veins of his chingling heart. Others say The Condoning Decider sized up the man and saw a brother-in-arms in the fight against The Evil Doers; yet failed to see the revolting obscenities his new comrade-in-arms inflicted upon his own body politic. The Forgetful Decider, blessed with amnesia forgot Lockerbie and applauded BP's royal court of justice for pardoning all perps. The Oblivious Decider's near sightedness failed to foresee a brewing blow-back amassing in the desert winging its way home on the blasting sands of a blistering Saharan sirocco. The Pollyannish Decider envisioned grand spectacles, only happy visions of Beyonce, JZ, Usher and the Def Jam Buddha Russell Simmons yodeling filthy lucre tunes, sending giggling tweets while partying down with Muammar's posse of martinets and way cool far out crazy execs drunk with the power that blinds the eye to all discernment. The Decider decides. Music Selection: Lady Ga Ga Beyonce, Telephone Oakland 3/3/11 jbm
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183
The peace pipe that has two sides - zoom the monsoon clouds, summertime-bizarre. Choices, pieces of the peace puzzle: Biblical, them both. Pasts alive in binocular introspection. Smoking the hashtag#, now: A hundred colour abominations around. Comrade, policeman, look, our daughters go abducted. The last rain is dying and the heat soars again: Wand-love or rod-fear: It's a battle of the faithful in a heathen heathen world. #hash's so-sixties.
0
May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 4:49 PM UTC
prabhu-iyer
Heathen heathen world
The peace pipe that has two sides - zoom the monsoon clouds, summertime-bizarre. Choices, pieces of the peace puzzle: Biblical, them both. Pasts alive in binocular introspection. Smoking the hashtag#, now: A hundred colour abominations around. Comrade, policeman, look, our daughters go abducted. The last rain is dying and the heat soars again: Wand-love or rod-fear: It's a battle of the faithful in a heathen heathen world. #hash's so-sixties.
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21
stopped for a smoke on a bench outside some gas station off I-75 with nowhere to go I shot the breeze alone watching the night grow it was nice surrounded by woods somewhere in Tennessee went inside to buy another pack as it got later wondering which poison to go with and saw this big hundred gallon tank toward the back of the store it had a single lobster inside I stopped a brief second of confusion --why's there a lobster here anyways?-- I couldn't help but smile a fellow comrade alone but not lonely a stalwart of the night walked to the counter went with wine paid and walked back out to my bench winking at my new friend on the way out I'll be ****** if he didn't wag a claw right back
0
Apr 22, 2013
Apr 22, 2013 at 2:26 AM UTC
craigverlin
Lonely Gas Station Lobster
stopped for a smoke on a bench outside some gas station off I-75 with nowhere to go I shot the breeze alone watching the night grow it was nice surrounded by woods somewhere in Tennessee went inside to buy another pack as it got later wondering which poison to go with and saw this big hundred gallon tank toward the back of the store it had a single lobster inside I stopped a brief second of confusion --why's there a lobster here anyways?-- I couldn't help but smile a fellow comrade alone but not lonely a stalwart of the night walked to the counter went with wine paid and walked back out to my bench winking at my new friend on the way out I'll be ****** if he didn't wag a claw right back
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45
In my own shire, if I was sad, Homely comforters I had: The earth, because my heart was sore, Sorrowed for the son she bore; And standing hills, long to remain, Shared their short-lived comrade's pain. And bound for the same bourn as I, On every road I wandered by, Trod beside me, close and dear, The beautiful and death-struck year: Whether in the woodland brown I heard the beechnut rustle down, And saw the purple crocus pale Flower about the autumn dale; Or littering far the fields of May Lady-smocks a-bleaching lay, And like a skylit water stood The bluebells in the azured wood. Yonder, lightening other loads, The seasons range the country roads, But here in London streets I ken No such helpmates, only men; And these are not in plight to bear, If they would, another's care. They have enough as 'tis: I see In many an eye that measures me The mortal sickness of a mind Too unhappy to be kind. Undone with misery, all they can Is to hate their fellow man; And till they drop they needs must still Look at you and wish you ill.
0
2.6k
A. E. Housman
In My Own Shire, If I Was Sad
In my own shire, if I was sad, Homely comforters I had: The earth, because my heart was sore, Sorrowed for the son she bore; And standing hills, long to remain, Shared their short-lived comrade's pain. And bound for the same bourn as I, On every road I wandered by, Trod beside me, close and dear, The beautiful and death-struck year: Whether in the woodland brown I heard the beechnut rustle down, And saw the purple crocus pale Flower about the autumn dale; Or littering far the fields of May Lady-smocks a-bleaching lay, And like a skylit water stood The bluebells in the azured wood. Yonder, lightening other loads, The seasons range the country roads, But here in London streets I ken No such helpmates, only men; And these are not in plight to bear, If they would, another's care. They have enough as 'tis: I see In many an eye that measures me The mortal sickness of a mind Too unhappy to be kind. Undone with misery, all they can Is to hate their fellow man; And till they drop they needs must still Look at you and wish you ill.
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32