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"confucius" poems
There is a tendency among those poets who may be very young frequently to put in verse those foreign phrases, or much worse the now dead words of oh so ****** Latin to boast of classrooms that they’ve sat in. And just in case you’ve never heard ‘em, Let’s reduce a few to ad absurdum. It was amore a prima vista until he left her for her younger sister for, after all, who could resist her, so moving on to secunda vista he took that step and boldly kissed her, behaviour that is hardly utopista. The trouble with modus vivendi is that it sometime rhymes with eye but there are those who don’t agree and think that it must rhyme with tea. Who cares? It’s all the same to I. Or should that be the same to me? You may say it is not de rigueur that I defend with so much vigour what surely is no more than hubris that I attribute to Confucius for he surely ha detto tutto albeit un po convoluto. And everyone’s heard of carpe diem. If not, then I have yet to see ‘em. But I prefer to seize a waist which may be thought somewhat unchaste though far more likely to have shocked ‘em would be to carpe in the noctem. Perhaps you think it’s ipso facto that I’m intolerant of lacto unless it comes directly from the breast. I think it’s better that the rest of this is left to your own opinatus for which I offer no blank cartus. Then there’s the modus of my own vivendi that I indulge in cacoethes scribendi the itch to write for which I daily scratch myself or play my ukulele which is my form of modus operandi before I pour myself a king-size brandy. And thus we leave this boring dull citare, by this time you have certainly grown quite weary of any further venture into tedium Or as ***** Harry might say, fac ut gaudeam For after all a day senza sunlight Might altrettante facilmente be night
0
Sep 8, 2018
Sep 8, 2018 at 6:15 PM UTC
Pig Latin
There is a tendency among those poets who may be very young frequently to put in verse those foreign phrases, or much worse the now dead words of oh so ****** Latin to boast of classrooms that they’ve sat in. And just in case you’ve never heard ‘em, Let’s reduce a few to ad absurdum. It was amore a prima vista until he left her for her younger sister for, after all, who could resist her, so moving on to secunda vista he took that step and boldly kissed her, behaviour that is hardly utopista. The trouble with modus vivendi is that it sometime rhymes with eye but there are those who don’t agree and think that it must rhyme with tea. Who cares? It’s all the same to I. Or should that be the same to me? You may say it is not de rigueur that I defend with so much vigour what surely is no more than hubris that I attribute to Confucius for he surely ha detto tutto albeit un po convoluto. And everyone’s heard of carpe diem. If not, then I have yet to see ‘em. But I prefer to seize a waist which may be thought somewhat unchaste though far more likely to have shocked ‘em would be to carpe in the noctem. Perhaps you think it’s ipso facto that I’m intolerant of lacto unless it comes directly from the breast. I think it’s better that the rest of this is left to your own opinatus for which I offer no blank cartus. Then there’s the modus of my own vivendi that I indulge in cacoethes scribendi the itch to write for which I daily scratch myself or play my ukulele which is my form of modus operandi before I pour myself a king-size brandy. And thus we leave this boring dull citare, by this time you have certainly grown quite weary of any further venture into tedium Or as ***** Harry might say, fac ut gaudeam For after all a day senza sunlight Might altrettante facilmente be night
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50
some may say a man with a beard has something to hide some may say a bearded man is a lonely man let me tell you a law of the known universe all great influential men had beards Consider this: The Soul is set aflame by the constant ruminations of the mind that venture beyond one’s stagnant self. This leads to great inspiration and ultimately inspiring others greatly. so you see only the bearded man can transcend himself List of Great Bearded Men: Frederick Douglas, Ulysses S. Grant, Ernest Hemingway, Jesus, Abraham Lincoln, Confucius, Karl Marx, Sigmund Freud, John Lennon, Vincent Van Gogh, Albert Einstein, King Leonidas, Zeus, Poseidon, Billy Mays, Most notable Pirates.
0
Dec 2, 2011
Dec 2, 2011 at 1:02 AM UTC
The Beard
As I let my mind wander into time, and release these binds that have me confined, I began to feel a great energy, like the sun had been compressed and put into me, and as time tic tocs and unwinds into its trail of infinity. I realize a trinity mind body soul, they burn as a whole, for the mightiest of goals. and as time unwinds it'll leave you behind. unless you get your spot in, a line of legacys never to be forgotten Confucius, Isaac Newton, Albert Einstein, Martin Luther King Jr, George Washington, Ernesto ‘Che’ Guevara, Nelson Mendala, Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi, Steve Jobs, Stephen Hawkins, Leonardo Da Vinci, Wolfgang Amedeus Mozart, nikola tesla, Wael Ghonim, Jimi Hendrix, Joseph Stiglitz, Reed Hastings, François Rabelais, Archimedes, Sigmund Frued, Charles Darwin, Aryabhata, Bob Marley, Garrett Morgan, George Washington Carver, Aristotle, John Locke, Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Plato, Galileo Galilei...and many many more... Stand for something. Think outside the box. Evolve and express yourself. Make a difference  #STEM #LegacyToIfinity
0
Nov 28, 2014
Nov 28, 2014 at 5:31 PM UTC
Thoughts of a Legacy
I ate all the stars last night every single one Then I had a comet cone for dessert Now I have starburn and I'm burping up rays of light that sunburn my throat The comet cone was too sugary So I let it spew away Now I have to learn all the new constellations And of course it's all Confucius
0
Jun 15, 2015
Jun 15, 2015 at 11:00 PM UTC
Star Eater
There are old ways that we have forgotten, sacred to our ancestors generations ago. Far before men named Jesus Christ Muhammad and Confucius, our ancestors knew the ways to live as enduring and resilient as the seasons. Songs and rites, gods as ancient as the deep green forest, and stories of the rise and fall of great men: Chieftains, farmers, warriors, musicians whose songs echoed over young world. The world was harsh then, as cold as the towering bedrock of the mountains. We gave thanks for what we had, both to the gods and to ourselves. The choice was to live strong, work hard or die like a wounded animal. The world was fair in the days of old, our cares cleansed through sweat and blood, and in the crushing weight of the labor of survival we found peace. Today, our peace is lost. We have nations, such foreign things, a group of people enslaved by custom. The green forest has become the fireplace of a world too gray, the unforgiving mountains mere pebbles beneath our trembling, dying feet. Though our lives are calm our minds are shattered, the breezes of indifference blowing away the forgotten ways of old.
0
Oct 22, 2018
Oct 22, 2018 at 11:45 AM UTC
The Old Ways
Confucius Says but does he also do as he says
0
Jun 25, 2015
Jun 25, 2015 at 2:33 PM UTC
Confucius Says [10W]
I am sorry Mr Confucius I have broken the world It fell apart into ten thousand pieces of a crystal glass It dissolved into ten thousand grains of a dry sand castle It frayed into ten thousand threads of a silk cloth Words became sounds with no meaning Hugs turned into meaningless sensations Faces changed into mute colours The terrifying truth of deep reality The loneliness of complete unification The old sages lied There is no peace in truth You were right Mr Confucius The woman's job is to weave
0
Mar 8, 2018
Mar 8, 2018 at 3:06 AM UTC
A profound apology
I suckled my mother's Bluetooth breast while my father built me a bassinet of series circuits with high, motherboard bars. I've got that artificial baby glow. But Mom put my ****** on Facebook at four weeks and I still haven't re-friended (forgiven) her. My upgrade's in nine months, but I want my downgrade now 'cause all I get are social invite excuses from Facebook fuckfaces. We pack our lives into little boxes that we're not even allowed to open. We drink to technology, keep our lazy eyes on our news feeds, and recycle ideas like their owners would even want to see what we've done to them. We misquote Confucius and credit ourselves with mangled Robert Frost stanzas. "Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and I think it's awesome that Pepsi used to be blue." Reblog, revine, retweet, FaceTime. Folding chair fold-out on someone's lawn. White-out Yeats, Keats, Byron, and Auden, and write John ******** or Tom Whatever. We're caught in the chicken wire of an LCD fruit basket so neat, orderly, and brushed aluminum. How can people write in Starbucks? S    B          U               X B        S The cooler's too ****** music's too shy, and the sugar, no, not just the sugar. THE PEOPLE are too artificial. The carpet-suit inlay I'm standing on has pencil lead, sock lint, and receipt shred lapel pins. Even corporations play dress-up. But what happens when Y2K kicks in tomorrow? Lives will be lost even before the missiles **** us. And the planes that drop from the sky won't even come close to when the bough breaks your little girl's heart, baby, because your phone can't raise her anymore, so you have to. And based on your search history, tweets, and recorded dreams, she's better off in the warm embrace of a hard drive.
0
Nov 26, 2014
Nov 26, 2014 at 10:54 PM UTC
Y2K Kicks in Tomorrow
I suckled my mother's Bluetooth breast while my father built me a bassinet of series circuits with high, motherboard bars. I've got that artificial baby glow. But Mom put my ****** on Facebook at four weeks and I still haven't re-friended (forgiven) her. My upgrade's in nine months, but I want my downgrade now 'cause all I get are social invite excuses from Facebook fuckfaces. We pack our lives into little boxes that we're not even allowed to open. We drink to technology, keep our lazy eyes on our news feeds, and recycle ideas like their owners would even want to see what we've done to them. We misquote Confucius and credit ourselves with mangled Robert Frost stanzas. "Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and I think it's awesome that Pepsi used to be blue." Reblog, revine, retweet, FaceTime. Folding chair fold-out on someone's lawn. White-out Yeats, Keats, Byron, and Auden, and write John ******** or Tom Whatever. We're caught in the chicken wire of an LCD fruit basket so neat, orderly, and brushed aluminum. How can people write in Starbucks? S    B          U               X B        S The cooler's too ****** music's too shy, and the sugar, no, not just the sugar. THE PEOPLE are too artificial. The carpet-suit inlay I'm standing on has pencil lead, sock lint, and receipt shred lapel pins. Even corporations play dress-up. But what happens when Y2K kicks in tomorrow? Lives will be lost even before the missiles **** us. And the planes that drop from the sky won't even come close to when the bough breaks your little girl's heart, baby, because your phone can't raise her anymore, so you have to. And based on your search history, tweets, and recorded dreams, she's better off in the warm embrace of a hard drive.
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55
As a newbie, we are unaware We go through life as if we care Incompetent inept go here or there Thinking that we know it all Inevitably comes the fall Then we slowly realize As it begins, the End of our demise we didn’t compromise However, it’s more Than just the fall. We thought We were Impervious 10 feet tall. The older we get The more we realize The ignorant follies Of the less wise Pride before the fall Comes towards us all We paid no mind To the warnings call Greed, Lust, A wild ride Envy Wrath Look inside Gluttony, Sloth, Our  Guilty Pride Don’t let this list Be your guide It’s OK not to know everything It’s OK to be a teen in between It’s OK to misread a panic scene It’s OK to admit your wrong Do the dance, Sing the song Don’t act wise, Apologize Pretending you know it all Inevitably The jig is up Never ready For the call Will you learn the lesson of the fall knowing you don’t know anything at all. There is always a lesson. To endure It’s OK not to be sure we were all once an amateur The difference between a young adult Sprung on life And a middle aged Disillusion lost soul Is  our experiences The lessons learned When It’s your turn To be on top Oblivious Ignorant Acceptance There will be a time When you’re not It’s not how high You climb It’s how you endure After the fall Wisdom comes to us all Will you ignore it? Or answer Life’s call Inspired songs; My life 1978 Billy Joel Don’t fear the reaper 1976 Blue Oyster Cult Signs 1971 By  Five Electrical Band Bridge over troubled Waters 1970 By Simon and Garfunkel Both sides now 1969 By Joni Mitchell Foot note This was written for a seventh grade grandchild going through life on stress levels. She creates herself. She says this to herself now it’s OK to be wrong. I don’t have to know everything. I’ve always said to the grandchildren, you have two ears, and one mouth listen twice as much as you speak
0
May 15, 2025
May 15, 2025 at 3:49 AM UTC
Amateur From Dr. Seuss to Confucius
As a newbie, we are unaware We go through life as if we care Incompetent inept go here or there Thinking that we know it all Inevitably comes the fall Then we slowly realize As it begins, the End of our demise we didn’t compromise However, it’s more Than just the fall. We thought We were Impervious 10 feet tall. The older we get The more we realize The ignorant follies Of the less wise Pride before the fall Comes towards us all We paid no mind To the warnings call Greed, Lust, A wild ride Envy Wrath Look inside Gluttony, Sloth, Our  Guilty Pride Don’t let this list Be your guide It’s OK not to know everything It’s OK to be a teen in between It’s OK to misread a panic scene It’s OK to admit your wrong Do the dance, Sing the song Don’t act wise, Apologize Pretending you know it all Inevitably The jig is up Never ready For the call Will you learn the lesson of the fall knowing you don’t know anything at all. There is always a lesson. To endure It’s OK not to be sure we were all once an amateur The difference between a young adult Sprung on life And a middle aged Disillusion lost soul Is  our experiences The lessons learned When It’s your turn To be on top Oblivious Ignorant Acceptance There will be a time When you’re not It’s not how high You climb It’s how you endure After the fall Wisdom comes to us all Will you ignore it? Or answer Life’s call Inspired songs; My life 1978 Billy Joel Don’t fear the reaper 1976 Blue Oyster Cult Signs 1971 By  Five Electrical Band Bridge over troubled Waters 1970 By Simon and Garfunkel Both sides now 1969 By Joni Mitchell Foot note This was written for a seventh grade grandchild going through life on stress levels. She creates herself. She says this to herself now it’s OK to be wrong. I don’t have to know everything. I’ve always said to the grandchildren, you have two ears, and one mouth listen twice as much as you speak
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90
Its said we learn out of experience, Its contradictory when I look at men in whites. How many more lives should be lost? In an endless state of confusion and grief. The land of Confucius is most corrupt, And the neighbour a tad better. No teachings are ever enough, For those determined to destruct.
0
Dec 13, 2014
Dec 13, 2014 at 12:43 AM UTC
Will they learn?
Why am I here? What is the Purpose of Life? What is Good? What should I Value? Is there a God? An Afterlife? So many times I’ve asked these things. Aristotle, Confucius, The Buddha…. All lived long before Christ And asked the same. What is Good…? Who Knows? So all we can do My friends Is go with our gut. Just Do It! Love and revere All Life, Do unto others as you would have them do unto you – A cliché I know… Be empathic and compassionate. Be a Humanist Plus. Call it a “Lifist” if you will. Use your talents to the full Nay Grow Them. Do not bury them in the soil. Have Aspiration, ambition And Achieve. Forget about money And celebrity. Be honest in your labours. Work always for The Common Good. Promote your Wellbeing and your Health. Give Education where you can. Build bridges over all divides. And never forget, We are The Human Team. Paul Butters
0
Sep 3, 2015
Sep 3, 2015 at 10:36 AM UTC
Who Knows?
Conspiring behind those confinements of morality, justice and sincerity. A suppressed philosophy, born from the social elite; Political correctness at it’s peak. We seek truth in absolution. As they round the troops. In Confucius dreams, the wisdom is hidden within the aphorism. The definition defined. "Do not do to others what you do not want don’t to yourself” From provincial son, to exile in the sun, policies, followed by astrologies patterns, and swallowed by the black holes, of unexplained notions, the nature of the soul and all it’s inhabitants. Oh sweet Mandarin, where do we begin? It’s torture to breath, and it’s gorgeous to sin.
0
Dec 11, 2015
Dec 11, 2015 at 5:48 PM UTC
Analects
It seems to me as though people don't take the chance to get to know other people anymore. It's all about physical attraction and getting with that one person that everyone wants. Maybe we know each other's names and maybe where we're from, but do we know each other's pet peeves or biggest fears? Hell, do we even know each other's favorite color or birthday? The answer to that question is no. We don't. But one thing that I've found is that you'll never know someone better than that person that decided to sit next to you on the airplane on your way back home for the holidays. Maybe airplanes aren't the most intimate place to have deep conversations, but you're stuck with that person for god knows how long and chances are, you'll never see them again so why not open up and ask this person questions about themselves? I've met many different people when I've traveled by myself and I couldn't be more grateful for the opportunity I had to get to know these people. Ive met an old man from Australia who couldn't keep his mouth shut about a girl he had a crush on when he was twelve. He crashed his bike while she was sitting on his handle bars after they snuck out of their houses to see each other. I've met an older woman who found my college textbook about Confucius to be one of the most interesting books she's read after I let her borrow it for awhile. I've met a teenage girl who was traveling on her own to go see her family in Italy and told me about everything that she wishes to accomplish one day. I've sat with a boy I've met previously once before who I never knew had a thing for old cars and loves cold weather. But you know what the best thing is? You finally notice how people look at you. That old Australian man, yeah, he had the goofiest smile I have ever seen after I told him that he had one of the sweetest love stories I've heard in my entire life. Even as he shut his eyes to try to take a quick nap, he was still smiling. And when I could feel the older woman's eyes on me while writing my paper about Chinese philosophy, I caught her with bright eyes and the slightest smile on her face when i turned to look at her. That girl traveling alone, well, I don't think I've ever seen a bigger smile after I told her that she's going to accomplish great things in her life. And that boy I sat with, couldn't stop smiling no matter what I said. Every time I'd turn to look at him, I'd catch a glimpse of him smiling before he turned his head to hide his face. All I'm trying to say is, I wish that maybe one day, I could get to know you as well as I know these people I've met on the airplane. I wish that maybe I'll finally have the chance to see the way you look at me. B.S.
0
Nov 27, 2015
Nov 27, 2015 at 5:02 AM UTC
Airplanes
It seems to me as though people don't take the chance to get to know other people anymore. It's all about physical attraction and getting with that one person that everyone wants. Maybe we know each other's names and maybe where we're from, but do we know each other's pet peeves or biggest fears? Hell, do we even know each other's favorite color or birthday? The answer to that question is no. We don't. But one thing that I've found is that you'll never know someone better than that person that decided to sit next to you on the airplane on your way back home for the holidays. Maybe airplanes aren't the most intimate place to have deep conversations, but you're stuck with that person for god knows how long and chances are, you'll never see them again so why not open up and ask this person questions about themselves? I've met many different people when I've traveled by myself and I couldn't be more grateful for the opportunity I had to get to know these people. Ive met an old man from Australia who couldn't keep his mouth shut about a girl he had a crush on when he was twelve. He crashed his bike while she was sitting on his handle bars after they snuck out of their houses to see each other. I've met an older woman who found my college textbook about Confucius to be one of the most interesting books she's read after I let her borrow it for awhile. I've met a teenage girl who was traveling on her own to go see her family in Italy and told me about everything that she wishes to accomplish one day. I've sat with a boy I've met previously once before who I never knew had a thing for old cars and loves cold weather. But you know what the best thing is? You finally notice how people look at you. That old Australian man, yeah, he had the goofiest smile I have ever seen after I told him that he had one of the sweetest love stories I've heard in my entire life. Even as he shut his eyes to try to take a quick nap, he was still smiling. And when I could feel the older woman's eyes on me while writing my paper about Chinese philosophy, I caught her with bright eyes and the slightest smile on her face when i turned to look at her. That girl traveling alone, well, I don't think I've ever seen a bigger smile after I told her that she's going to accomplish great things in her life. And that boy I sat with, couldn't stop smiling no matter what I said. Every time I'd turn to look at him, I'd catch a glimpse of him smiling before he turned his head to hide his face. All I'm trying to say is, I wish that maybe one day, I could get to know you as well as I know these people I've met on the airplane. I wish that maybe I'll finally have the chance to see the way you look at me. B.S.
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2
Your words gave me open wounds that are incapable of healing.. The moment you said, "I have no feelings for you," cuts right through my very soul. It leaves an opening through my shallow being welcoming the next words you are about to bestow. "You are not just my type," it's like raging bolts of electricity running through my body and I can't move, I can't even raise a finger to tell you to stop.. Please, stop this bleeding. I was about to regain control of my senses but you added, "we can still be friends though," that it's as if nothing happened. Like my feelings never happened, like you never listened, like you didn't cut me open, like you didn't have me bleeding to death, like you never throw me daggers in form of words. And you asked, for the first time, "are you okay?" I gathered all my strength to forestall my voice from breaking as I retorted, "I'm good." I bit my lip the moment my mouth turns like a time bomb that's a few seconds away from explosion and I'm victorious. The words "it just hurts a lot," didn't escape from my mouth averting myself from going to the place you've given me. Say, friendzone? I watched you walked away realizing you actually helped me by closing off the arteries of my wounds by giving me a cold treatment. I mouthed, "thank you," but you didn't see it. Thank you for releasing my favorite demon, hatred.. ..this way, I will prevent myself from massive destruction that is yearning to make me feel something good, something vibrant, something lighthearted.. Say, like love? Thank you for leaving me wounds that covers my body, and soon enough it will be scars that will remind me of how painful it is to make someone look at you the exact same way you're looking at them. Confucius quote, "there is one word which may serve as a rule of practice for all one's life: Reciprocity." ..But reciprocity is not a decree.
0
Mar 23, 2016
Mar 23, 2016 at 5:54 PM UTC
Daggers
Your words gave me open wounds that are incapable of healing.. The moment you said, "I have no feelings for you," cuts right through my very soul. It leaves an opening through my shallow being welcoming the next words you are about to bestow. "You are not just my type," it's like raging bolts of electricity running through my body and I can't move, I can't even raise a finger to tell you to stop.. Please, stop this bleeding. I was about to regain control of my senses but you added, "we can still be friends though," that it's as if nothing happened. Like my feelings never happened, like you never listened, like you didn't cut me open, like you didn't have me bleeding to death, like you never throw me daggers in form of words. And you asked, for the first time, "are you okay?" I gathered all my strength to forestall my voice from breaking as I retorted, "I'm good." I bit my lip the moment my mouth turns like a time bomb that's a few seconds away from explosion and I'm victorious. The words "it just hurts a lot," didn't escape from my mouth averting myself from going to the place you've given me. Say, friendzone? I watched you walked away realizing you actually helped me by closing off the arteries of my wounds by giving me a cold treatment. I mouthed, "thank you," but you didn't see it. Thank you for releasing my favorite demon, hatred.. ..this way, I will prevent myself from massive destruction that is yearning to make me feel something good, something vibrant, something lighthearted.. Say, like love? Thank you for leaving me wounds that covers my body, and soon enough it will be scars that will remind me of how painful it is to make someone look at you the exact same way you're looking at them. Confucius quote, "there is one word which may serve as a rule of practice for all one's life: Reciprocity." ..But reciprocity is not a decree.
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11
It is said "Life is short" but in truth Life's very tall "Be" a good giant.
0
Jul 1, 2016
Jul 1, 2016 at 11:08 PM UTC
CONFUCIUS #7 (Haiku)
I learned at age 8 the colors of the rainbow Red, Orange, Yellow, Green, Blue, Indigo, Violet I stared at each picture, curious of the colors Mrs. Ferguson said that together, we make a beautiful rainbow And I memorized it. I learned at age 13 grade that I was gay Each boy slow danced with their girl I stood in the corner watching Isolated, ashamed, in the dark And I memorized it. I learned at age 16 that my parents didn’t accept me Battered and bruised I could feel the spit of Confucius on my wounds I could feel the yin and yang twisting my spirit I could feel the burns from the flames from my ancestral shrine And I memorized it. I learned at age 20 how the other men felt Blogs and wikihows lied to me as they told me to find solace in the gay bars Their eyes followed me like I was a hanging chicken at a street booth Disgusted Drunk men announcing their Asian fetish to me As if I were a dish to prove their exotic tongues The rice queens sitting proudly on their thrones As we, the subjects, are shackled and exposed To their adventurous acceptance And I memorized it. I learned at age 23 the colors of the rainbow Red, Orange, Yellow, Green, Blue, Indigo, Violet As I stared at the Pride Flag, I remembered Red, Orange, Yellow, Green, Blue, Indigo, Violet I stared Red, Orange, Yellow, Green, Blue, Indigo, Violet They stared Red, Orange, Green, Blue, Indigo, Violet Red, Orange, Green, Blue, Indigo, Violet Red, Orange, Green, Blue, Indigo, Violet Yellow And I memorized it.
0
Sep 12, 2015
Sep 12, 2015 at 3:19 PM UTC
Colors of the Rainbow
I learned at age 8 the colors of the rainbow Red, Orange, Yellow, Green, Blue, Indigo, Violet I stared at each picture, curious of the colors Mrs. Ferguson said that together, we make a beautiful rainbow And I memorized it. I learned at age 13 grade that I was gay Each boy slow danced with their girl I stood in the corner watching Isolated, ashamed, in the dark And I memorized it. I learned at age 16 that my parents didn’t accept me Battered and bruised I could feel the spit of Confucius on my wounds I could feel the yin and yang twisting my spirit I could feel the burns from the flames from my ancestral shrine And I memorized it. I learned at age 20 how the other men felt Blogs and wikihows lied to me as they told me to find solace in the gay bars Their eyes followed me like I was a hanging chicken at a street booth Disgusted Drunk men announcing their Asian fetish to me As if I were a dish to prove their exotic tongues The rice queens sitting proudly on their thrones As we, the subjects, are shackled and exposed To their adventurous acceptance And I memorized it. I learned at age 23 the colors of the rainbow Red, Orange, Yellow, Green, Blue, Indigo, Violet As I stared at the Pride Flag, I remembered Red, Orange, Yellow, Green, Blue, Indigo, Violet I stared Red, Orange, Yellow, Green, Blue, Indigo, Violet They stared Red, Orange, Green, Blue, Indigo, Violet Red, Orange, Green, Blue, Indigo, Violet Red, Orange, Green, Blue, Indigo, Violet Yellow And I memorized it.
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38
wear my thick skin like armor with my heart on my sleeve because I love to give it out but I'll be ****** if I'll take that **** back so I guess I'm just one way traffic a conduit for a confused Confucius conveying crap poems of purple prose pretentiously purposefully pretty self loathing can be as strong as love because we love to hate ourselves maybe it's just extreme modesty and you always called me a wolf because heat seemed to come off my body in waves even on the coldest night I think it's just the kinetic energy of the words in my head playing bumper cars at a million miles an hour and I always have an idea of a poem when I sit down and then it gets away from me and runs circles around me just like you when we argue the only difference is I would always tell the poem that it was right so I don't know what that means
0
Mar 3, 2013
Mar 3, 2013 at 10:46 AM UTC
thick skin
Some Asian folk revere the Tao the way of Yang and Ying. Others worship ancestors and of Confucius sing. Buddhists seek a one way trip with no wish to return. Hindus think we're born again just not in Christian terms. Some follow in the steps of Christ, this life, their cross to bear. Others say Carpe Diem and just don't give a D*mm. Islamiscists eschew alcohol and never lunch on ham. This place has many faiths and creeds to suit our every mood. The voodoo that you do so well is with suspicion viewed. The foodists are the latest cult- a blight upon the land like Joey chestnut at buffets consuming all they can. To them no cow is sacred and wine just slakes their thirst They walk among us and they breed and I don''t know which is worse!
0
Jul 24, 2013
Jul 24, 2013 at 8:42 PM UTC
Comparative Religion
***Come in, come in my friends, Let us talk of gods and men.*** *But I must warn: I ride the dragon Confucius cannot tame. We soar on winds the Buddha cannot calm. I frolic free on Jesus’ throne; Secured in stone of my Olympus home, Whose whence and why I can not know.* ***So come in, come in my friends Let us talk of gods and men.*** *If you come to teach and learn, Come in, come in. Let us share our common yearn.* Else go away so as not to waste my time with God.                                                                         August, 2011
0
Oct 14, 2014
Oct 14, 2014 at 2:56 PM UTC
Come In, Come In My Friends
When will I learn to love myself? Do I have to decide to start loving myself? Because if that is true it means that, The only thing stopping my happiness, is me. Do I not want to love myself? Do I love hating myself? I think maybe I do love hating myself. Or maybe I'm afraid of loving myself. For reasons that I cannot fathom. A quote from Confucius: Respect yourself, and others will respect you. Maybe that is an ancient version of today's No one will love you, until you love yourself. So when will I learn to love myself? When I stop being afraid of it.
0
Apr 13, 2018
Apr 13, 2018 at 7:33 PM UTC
Loving Myself
Give yourself extra time travelling via Herne Hill, at a whisper her suede boots looked like trouble an air of independence, having already bad mouthed Sarah's Facebook, thats not ingenuity more dangerous double talk, suppose you thought of a fuse not wrong there. He is nearby, evidently reading the "Great Gatsby" on the floor, not clean! intrepreting every word, a bit like a typo he secretly wishes her good luck having already progressed to "who does she  think she is"?
0
Dec 27, 2012
Dec 27, 2012 at 2:07 PM UTC
Son of Confucius
Like "Connect the dots" Rorschach Ink Blots / fluffy clouds, Minds map, third eye gleans.
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Jul 6, 2016
Jul 6, 2016 at 1:52 AM UTC
CONFUCIUS (Buddisms) #8