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Phil Lindsey Feb 2015
Precious Metals

She’s got steel-blue eyes and an iron will
A lead-foot when she’s driving
A silver tongue but she never lies,
Brassy bold when she’s conniving.
She’s precious metals all mixed up
And I’ll love her till she’s old….
Cause the precious metal I love best
Is her heart made out of gold.

She’s got a smile that turns me upside down,
Inside out and every which way
And I hope I’ll get to see that smile
Every morning, every new day.
When she laughs the world’s ecstatic
When she’s angry they look out,
Cause she’s precious metals all mixed up
And here’s what she’s about:

She’s got steel-blue eyes and an iron will
A lead-foot when she’s driving
A silver tongue but she never lies,
Brassy bold when she’s conniving.
She’s precious metals all mixed up
And I’ll love her till she’s old….
Cause the precious metal I love best
Is her heart made out of gold.

She’s got a dynamite body that’ll knock you out
Sometimes she says things without thinkin’
And she likes a good martini,
So she’s fun to take out drinkin’.
She sets her goals and standards high,
Not afraid to chase her dreams
She’s precious metals all mixed up
And this is how she seems:

She’s got steel-blue eyes and an iron will
A lead-foot when she’s driving
A silver tongue but she never lies,
Brassy bold when she’s conniving.
She’s precious metals all mixed up
And I’ll love her till she’s old….
Cause the precious metal I love best
Is her heart made out of gold.

Yeah, She’s precious metals all mixed up
And I’ll love her till she’s old….
Cause the precious metal I love best
Is her heart made out of gold.

PwL 12/06
softcomponent May 2014
Find the lighter, use it as a lighthouse on a walk below the wall you watch along the wave-formations. Who Wants a Cold One? a Coors Light ad corrects.. When it comes to your home, the little things matter.. an insurance ad blares.. my computer is infected with 3rd party applications unremovable to my meagre tech-ability.. there is a hero as Joseph Campbell once theorized.. in myself like a sick bastardly virus waiting for moments to prove to me "I AM THE SAVIOR, I AM THE CHRIST, I AM THE WARLORD, MICE, MAN, AND VICE".. the windows of opportunity close, I am left waiting the door

& the elevator.

Thirty-thousand years ago, there was nothing but a breeze.. a viscous breeze across chill-spined pterodactyls.. warm-under-the-jungle-brush tyrannosaurus rex, and to think one day I will be just a legend in bone..
Charlotte said she thinks of death and so did Jen. They sat next to the all-you-can-eat and discussed the inevitable. I was sour and playful with no-will-to-understand, just reminding my hair of breezy summer days of 10, thinking of strangeness, of place I was in.

When it's quiet sometimes, I think of old dreams.. dreams I sunk below drown-level as a child in bed and belief. Both mommy and daddy were arguing in the kitchen, this was 7 or 8.. they argued so often one could hear mom begin to cry sometimes, and dad I could see in minds-eye with a grimace so closed and so creased he was hurt and yet honest.. I did not understand so I hid under-stood-silhouettes, oh adulthood..

once in dream I was in pulsing green graveyard like crayon realism strobe lights, tombstones all-round and faint-buzz of outside and one of those strange balded henchmen of badguy Jafar from Disney's Aladdin came peaking outta nowhere with curled eyebrow and baggy one-thousand-one Arabian nightlives parachute pants, curled toes brown-beige moccasins to.. he let out conniving 'HEUHEE!' and slapped me right-side cheek and I JOLTED up bedwise in real time to feel actual physical sting for a few lingered seconds then the sobs of poor mother outside.. I never remembered a dream so clearly again.. they all come, Pro-Found, and dizzy away after hour or two for rest of eternity or perhaps to Place I Can Visit at Death to Review Every Vision and I wonder... when your life flashes before your eyes and the light is encroaching, scenes of mother, brother, father, son, daughter, best-friend, party, break-up, heartbreak, slip-fall, first-sip, first-drag, last-leg, first-kiss, first-hit, first-game, fear, love,  HATE, wait.. do the Dreams come to? Are they all flesh-ed before your eyes as you pass into Light? Are they brought to direct remembrance as you cross the border with Passport of Gods and a Goddess (and which Picture appears on the Page)..?

I remember the old eczema taking bits of skin to carpets round-town and round-lower-mainland to disgust of friends old and new-- this was era where confidence ate itself in mirrors, the sober reality of ugly-ness chiseling away at my Goodness Attempts.. All That Pointless Pain was no Exception nor a Rule, it just **** Happens every once-and-again to the sound of life farting. I used to miss school for feet so impossible to walk on, pussing and bleeding and staining the sheets, shoe soles, carpets, and soul.. limp thru the hallways of Brooks Secondary feeling like bad flavor additive to multicultural Planet Earth-- sleeping 'til the bell rang drinking coffee singing songs I said '**** the ******* educational system and **** me I'm so flatlined..' someday I felt things would really get better and lucky young me I was right.

A half-decade later, I am 21 and hoping, floating, free in the breeze as the wings I have grown keep on wishing the subsistence down. The girl, whoever-she-might-as-well-be, sits immediately vertical chatting frantically to boy with a bit of a cowlick slouching on-up over a bundle of colored paperwork. It seems late in the season for homework, and assume they may have some affiliation with a crazy-hep computer design group in the tradition of Nouevau Silicon Valley.... I sit at my laptop, inching a word a million cubic millimeters closer to God or Divinity or Crescendo or A Bunch More ******* You'll End Up Ignoring---

It's a sunny day, the rain having slathered-off into obscurity somewhere with the Monsoons when the Sun gave the Moon a Soft Slap and the poor purity white-kid went off whimpering, bleeding nose-- I sat, the other night, playing another Grand Strategy game as Tom divided his time between a vaulted and damaged lover, his labor, and his life (friends, food, video-games, vice)... Chai, old Chai the Thai Guy mentioned past his nose in previous iterations of Depictions sat and described his pins-and-needles upset at his bosses at one his three many jobs.. desperately firing text-messages into receiving-space-panel and reflect and back unto Tom's smartphone dash asking him to order a six-pack from a local delivery service cuz his adrenal was giving him heartpain with hurt, and Tom being Busy as All-Ways Tom Is wasn't able to decipher the scramble in-time to make contact before closure of the liquor stores.. poor not-so-poor Chai at first felt castrated at realization he would miss the 11 PM dot-time, but didn't mind as he rendezvoused with Tom and I at Willows Beach where Tom reminded him of a whiskey he'd bought sitting counter-wise at his place.. we kissed a few Mary Janes rightsideup, dragging our butts in the sand to discuss what was wrong (each of us had a problem that night, save for perhaps a less-vocal Tom, I describing my annoyance that a lazy consensus had erupted in my sorry-hometown between my sorta-friends and friends-of-friends that my writing and sharing my writing was arrogant and I an arrogant *** for sharing and I just confounded that they would find my passions so trivial-- perhaps jealousy, perhaps complacency and judgement-for-lack-of-anything-better-to-do and ah **** em all if they think like that, I'll write and be the arrogant me they think I am and share 'til I'm blue in the face and dead perhaps for outspoken intellectualism in their autocratic pointless-waste worldviews.. sad that I dislike them only on the basis they disliked me first..)

I had planned to stay late and leave early-morn (5 or 6 AM) to catch a first-off morning bus back home and sleep, hoping for most part to avoid the shattered-***-mess of a home I was living in.
About 2 days ago, give or take, a water-line for the laundry machine had erupted to soak our entirely-carpeted basement suite, forcing the poor new landlord (a sweetheart of a man named Ron having just taken possession of the house from previous owner on May 1st and, it seems, left 'holding the bag' as they'd call it in day-trading-investment-lingo) to tear out the entirely-soaked carpet and replace it with sensible laminate flooring and rendering the entire suite virtually unlivable for indefinite-few-days and so for me work and friends and especially writing become a welcome reprieve to I, a first world Refu-Jeez.. us, so terribly-off I sip a latte near sunny panorama windows-so-clear-they're-not-there overlooking the crosses of Yates and Blanshard with European church of Gothic architectural style poking heedlessly into empty-open blue.. ironically and strangely there is a liquor store quite literally right next door, and's one I shop at often for its decent prices (God is Dead or Just Drinking to Cope with Sartre and Kierkegaard's Ultimate Thesis) (Kierkegaard especially '*** Kierkegaard seems a good and long friend of God the Almighty) (...I talk with such Judaeo-Christian Catholic rhetoric it never ceases to amaze myself as it bleeds to page..) (stranger thing is, tho, there is no beginning, no middle, no end.. you read or you are bored and either/or is just fine..)

There is some hypothesized crescendo-bliss Tech Singularity on the way in the try-dition of Ray Kurzweil and William Burroughs.. Oscar Wilde to.. (see The Soul of Man Under Socialism in essay-collect book De Profundis).. one day we will all be eternal happiness expressed in song and dance and LED erected-projections of Imperfect Universe (Our Imperfect Earth) with lives stuck on infinite repeat.. our idea of Paradise.. and for those with ability to remain rushed to cortisol (stress-the-best hormone) it will be Hell on Earth, so DRAB and THE SAME all the TIME and it's READ and it's WRITE and it's RIGHT.. the world runs faster with every passing day so desperate to discover the Globe is Flat so we can Hop Off the Other Side into what one might assume to be The Better Place.. elusively picking-up speed thinking 'closer now definitely closer now' unaware (or, secretly aware and unwilling to admit for what will one do when one cannot run?) they are Running in Circles Over and Over and Over and Over and Over Again... cannot take the hint in the fact the Pacific (same Pacific) has been crossed a hugeillion times, nor the same McDonald's in the Azores of Atlantic Portugal is the Same ******* McDonald's stopped-thru on the then-trillionth time last year... and all whilst the International Space Station remains muted up-above crossing 'round and 'round 'til the Jehovah'n Day of Judgement (Chris Hadfield now below with advice for how to run a little faster even blinded in one eye..) then there are the dying Prophets Predicting Industrial Collapse who preach upon the Mount of Internet Sinai Eternal and state "the world is now unsalvageable and we are all about to die.. if ever you wished to find Buddhistic Nirvanic Peace, now is the time so start meditating and imagine Death as New Life and Geopolitics as Game".. forever and ever and ever and ever.

It is only natural to find existence to be 'weird..' layered with Who's That's and giant What The ***** everywhichway you turn.. did it start in a Big Bang, will it end in a Big Crunch, Big Freeze, Big Bang.. ? all questions once ignored for certain ignorance and resurrected as questions concerning the Nature of the What The ***** (also known as 'Science').. and if it did start in a Big Bang, did I start in a Big Bang..? and if it does end in a Big Crunch, will I end in a Big Crunch..? am I a sudden flash of REAL in a Universe that isn't me..? or am I an entire Universe.. perhaps even more than that...? the questions pulse in youth like bad words or bullets. I once stayed up all-night thinking of infinity with my head soaring space-wise forever and ever and ever and I stopped in sudden panic thinking: I could lie here up all night and all day 'til the towered age of 37 (I was 14 at the time) and still be no further on the Universal Map than from thumb-tip-middle to thumb-nail so I wrapped up the attempt with a mix of fear and incredulity, went to school next-day exhausted and tried to explain it all to friends.. they got it, I suppose, but we were all 14 and played basketball instead (I imagined infinite-spinning-basketball on thumb of Michael Jordan).

It's always best describing life in form of Disembodied Poetics.. sure some Philistines won't understand '*** their minds are made of Clockwork, Digits, and Blockthought.. but the general psychic underly implied in all with human faculty will ring-a-ding-ding! and remember all such ancient thoughts and feels as forgotten as a child, locked away until the Spirit rose-up from a rosey thorn prickle to flower straight-up into a Rose! or so I hope as a one-of-many writers-- all of which will write so-as to speak on your behalf.. all floaty and marking a purpose.
Francie Lynch Apr 2017
Many believe they know the law
Because they were arrested;
Others know how to teach
Because they too were tested.
If you have a religious question,
They attended church;
Mention you've an ache or pain,
They diagnose your hurt.
Should you bring up politics,
Republican or worse,
They'll explain Democracy
Cause they've been free since birth.
Admit your car is pinging,
Your faucets aren't behaving,
The oven isn't cooking right,
Your fridge is warm and shaking,
The air conditioner's out of whack,
Your furnace has turned blue,
They'll tell you what to do:
Change the thermo-coupler.
It's always their one answer.
Say you like this stock or bond,
An investment that's appealing,
They'll  discourse that all agents
Are cunning conniving stealing.
On Monday mention the big game,
They'll re-play, play by play,
As if you slept right through it.
If you hear a rousing band,
Attend a movie or a play,
Know-its are informed critics,
Once they were stagehands.
They pose as friends and family,
Waiting for an opening,
To disrupt with diatribe,
To display how much they know.
I know what I'm on about,
So let me advise you,
I'm a Know-It-All poet,
All I write is true.
So,
Never miss the opportunity
To keep your mouth shut too
.
We all know them by name.
jonchius Sep 2015
checking potent aftershock
observing seismic anniversary
checking another tremor
resuming constrained writing

annexing hidebound constituents
hugging incoming eschatologies
fighting pervasive insomnia
battling invasive fatigue

damning incompetent fools
awaiting furtive escape
abandoning corporate wasteland
summoning celestial syzygy

detesting spaghetti code
protruding riparian dolphin
establishing unilinear escritoire
glowing cybernetic cynosure

avoiding eternal invisibility
supporting valued customer
performing lexical gymnastics
scrooping notification sounds

restoring usual happiness
glorifying darkwave fanfares
collapsing old relationships
raising ambient awareness

defining wolf people
propagating yesteryear's spectre
achieving hemispheric virality
testing weekend legerity
installing iron curtain

propagating today's spectre

developing niche audiences
transmitting abstract propaganda
disappearing thought experiments
overusing various condiments

double-checking hyper-real emotions
rubbernecking celestial explosions
observing splendid holiday
exploding volcano day

erupting bucolic mountain
disrupting hectic shouting
perfecting suggestive triptychs
checking festive pyrotechnics

drifting across multiverse
regifting glossy paperwork
writing six-lined hexagrams
liking two-toned instagrams

recalling pygmalion sculptures
brawling tatterdemalion cultures
"rambling corporate shill
rattling rapid prosody"
"battling hamburger hill
ambling hundredth library"
"sensing ideological schism
pending guttural neologism"

glowing verdant background
foreshadowing palmyra takedown
developing geopolitical mess
geminating quasi-couplet stress

"hugging cultural diversity
shrugging irrational adversity"

distancing spooky raindrops
avoiding potential burnout
implementing lexical databank
approaching crash-scene sudser

becoming increasingly selective
escaping tyrannical bureaucracy
perpetuating cut-throat capitalism
purchasing contrived happiness
incorporating chance elements
relaxing rigid structures
reheating your retweet

holding theoretical design
smiling beach life
scrutinizing eternal simulation
rushing artificial apothegm
annexing facetious document
freaking creepy centipedes

writing neural structure
congratulating yestreen's warriors
encouraging seatbelt usage
boosting abstract setting
sensing frivolous ochlocracy

keeping hypothetical metropolis
blurring metaphorical æsthetic
scrutinizing computational festival
memorializing towel day

raising six-fingered paw
eternizing fragment schedule
liking subtextual repository
quoting quintessential quidnunc

finding ideological style
disregarding their slovenliness
planning spatial factoid
spinning glacial ellipsoids

enjoying eternal spreadsheet
deleting repetitive tweet
awaiting festival lineup
gainsaying unethical startups

observing turgid experiment
contemplating conniving contrivances
enjoying dynamic project
dropping two-toned simulation
finding harmonic space
finalizing warring cavaliers

detecting enigmatic apathy
retrieving potential exchange
meddling middling muddling
baking hypnagogic pizza

spinning galactic dinosaur
building trans-pacific partnership
finishing theoretical mission
giggling agog googlers

crashing atypical tessellation
cherishing precious hexagons
proliferating western lottery
cretaceousing funkaholic skeletor

blurring turgid gallery
cancelling tsunami warnings
extemporizing incoherent neologisms
transmitting harmonic rave

gliding black hawks
hiding quacked ducks
archiving animated light
googling moonbow imagery

ignoring relatable messages
observing unfinished world
generating optional content
continuing exponential growth
May 2015
Emanuel Martinez Feb 2013
To have learned a lot about identity, and self-negation, and alternative identities, and what it means to be an indigene, and Afro-adjacent and the concept of eurocentrism, and ideals of appearance and how they are appropriated by deliberate power structures who seek to marginalize and condemn to maintain circles of dominance…To know that we don't live outside of those circles.

It’s understandable that you've waivered over who you thought was attractive or not...naturally you are not outside of those circles of influence...and some days they put a gloss over you and might for a while convince you that we are oscillating farther and farther from the false ideals of appearance.

They put you on a spell that tells you whose beautiful, that our brown skin is not brown gold, that our eyes are not black emeralds, that our bodies’ hair must be removed, because the only hair that should be allowed to be left on a body is blond hair, because the world has taught you to think that our hair, our black hair is an alternative, an intruder.

It is an impeding and ever-growing pain to become a conscious man…one that is learning about the injustices in which he has ignorantly been a victim of all of his life.

To have thought once that I was not attractive because I was not attractive, and that I was not sexually desirable because I was not sexually desirable…

To think that the universe had devised it to be this way as if there was no conniving vice guiding these concepts of normality and abnormality…the standards of beauty and ugliness…

To come to the painstaking realization of being robbed of the truth…of the manipulating lies and biased standards of appearance that had been constructed so far back before our birth.

To realize that we are beautiful but that this fact would be one that would be negated.

A reparation that would be contested and denied, giving over the claim to legitimacy to those who judge this trial because they too have been veiled by the lie.

Recognizing that the identity as a brown, indigene, homosexual man with brown eyes and black hair (with remnants of a French grandfather who people can refuse to believe and because of that he does not care to acknowledge that part of his heritage. Realizing that that identity is dangerous to be acknowledged as being beautiful.

…Because if those that control the power structures that dictate the normality of appearance declared that that was beautiful you and everyone else in the world would never ever doubt that attractiveness.

But again that's dangerous even revolutionary because it would supplant the beauty and more importantly the power that white people (and those that aim to oscillate closer and closer to the Eurocentric ideal) gather from maintaining that dominance.

Shouldn’t we have a right to be angry and jaded? After being burdened with the truth and consciousness...we should have a right to be. It is a burden to be conscious and we should very much want reparations...The more the injustice being construed against us becomes clearer and clearer the more we must hold contempt against euro-centrism and disarm any semblance within the pride of European descent to superiority.

It’s unnerving to realize the slight that is being used on us to beat us down. These conniving power structures have managed to get under our skin and as if through remote operation have unleashed on us...ourselves.

It’s the best weapon of destruction...of control and disillusionment. Because they don't wish to destroy us, at least not until they've extracted our worth for their gain and consumption without our interruption.

We must not be unconsciously wielding individuals who think we are ugly, and who are paralyzed by a superficial analysis of what is the optimum of appearance, which we think we are not.

Abhor the inability that has been forced onto us, to declare we are beautiful.

That the weight of the lies, the farce, the systems of marginalization as they apply to appearance carry more legitimacy and authority, than our truth...the honest truth…

It’s asphyxiating to always face confrontations and juries who will indefinitely argue for the indictment of our ugliness.

To which deep fear and disbelief will be manifest in the paralysis of eloquence and ability to articulate an opposing argument.

The saddest thing would be that they have prevailed so well and penetrated our consciousness and conceptualizations within our minds, which has made it way easier for them to force us to see ourselves the way they see us.

Pick up like a hound those nuances among those that talk, and how euro-centrism has defiled their consciousness!

Insides can't help but churn and recoil with madness and try to say no don't do that! Stop the killing of the legitimization of your and my beauty!

Don't ever be apologetic. Just know that this is something that troubles us and is complex. Concede to the fact you won't ever have to suffer the injustice that us and other brown and black people have to try to subvert and alter as part of our journey toward the empowerment of all human beings.
February 10, 2013
Yenson Aug 2018
When we finish with you
you won't know who you are..........

Hey, Mr and Mrs Salt  of the Earth
of Majority Wins Avenue, Socialist Estate
Wigan and George Orwell Park
Red City London

do you want to hear something
please give me a bit of your time

I know I am not a white thief
I don't go breaking into my neighbour's house
and stealing from them

I know I am not a drunkard
begging borrowing and stealing
so I can get wasted and drunk again

I know i am not a liar or bands of liars
who go around destroying innocents reputation
slandering and vilifying to cover my tracks

I know I am not an envious jealousy ridden inadequate
throwing mud and obnoxious falsehoods to damage
an innocent person good name and character

I know I am not a psychotic sadist degenerate
getting neurotic satisfaction from causing pain
and distress to another

I know I am not a weakling and a lily-livered coward
a back-stabber and a faceless ***** who is an anodyne
bully incapable of face to face confrontation

I know I am not a shriveling gutless wimpy poltroon
hiding in a gang of samenesses  engaging in a shameless
war against one man

I know I am not an uneducated or semi-illiterate half-wit
riddled with ignorance, prejudices, bigotry and ill-thoughts
notion without rational validation

I know I am not a wanton hedonist who is unable to resist
satisfying lust or seeking pleasures regardless of more
pressing responsibilities

I know I am not a two faced hypocrite, a fraudster or cheat
who misappropriated and behaves without conscience or
considerations about others

I know I am not a cheap, small minded, vengeful, hateful
and irrational follower who joins other like-minded fools
in a unjust and unfair actions and deeds

I know I am not a wicked, perverse, heartless, soulless, cold
and pitiless damaged human who acts without measure,
compassion or due consideration

I know I am not a sneaky, conniving, twisted, disingenuous
sadistic, cowardly conspiratorial plotter who acts with others
of same kith to cause hardship, pain, sufferings to another human
unnecessarily

I do know That I believe in hard work and earning a living honestly and when I had the opportunity that was what I did
I did not steal from anyone and then blame my bad choices
on them

I do know that I treated everyone I came into contact with
or related with fairly, on merit, without prejudice, sincerely, honestly and with due respect, except if they are house burgling
drunkard, wastrels, anti-social and Racists neighbours.


So dear Mr  and Mrs Salt of the Earth, friends and Defenders
of Crooks, Burglars and All with nefarious activities, wrong-doers and the Shameless

I do know at least that I am not any of the noted above, if this
thus mean exclusion from your Union and banishment from life,
I accept my sentence..........  

I thank you for reading


P.S.  Please feel free to come and **** what's left of ME!!
EJ Aghassi Sep 2013
There are better ways
to wake a man up you know,
Green Eyes,
why shake the bed?

Use your head, baby
use your head

But I'm up, I'm up
definitely so

I made it through
another night;
these nights
go so slow

I find my window for escaping,
I'm out now, my heart is racing

I left her at home
conniving alone
but there is no safe
place to roam

before I know it,
she'll be at my side
Stress, your green eyes
I can't deny

I try and I try but
I'm helpless to resist her

I try to overcome,
I try to dismiss her

But I know
once again we'll go
arm and arm to
your room

reaching for the ceiling,
touching and feeling
heavy breathing soon leading
to my pending doom

And despite what I've said,
I'm soon on the bed
and she plunges down to
my center instead

Her green eyes are burning
holes in my forehead
Humbly a man &
soon I'll be dead

although it is my vice, at
least she took my advice:

that's using your head
M Mar 2014
So, what's the deal with ******?
Why is it that there's this whole weird thing
associated with being unclothed,
as if we don't wake up and each of us
strip down for a completely naked shower,
and under our clothes, we're completely naked.
Why is it we spend so much time pretending our bodies don't exist
and fragilely hiding behind these pointless social
constructions about what and whom you should and shouldn't be,
why do we lie about who we are and cover it up
because it's not safe for children?
CHILDREN ARE THE SAME SPECIES AS US.
THEY ARE THE SAME SHAPE.
They get naked too.
and if they're not quite the same shape yet, why do we hide what they're going to become?
It's completely pointless to build walls and act as if they were set there by someone other than ourselves, we've given each other amnesia, it's always 'they', it's always 'society', that did it.
Why do we create all these rules and desperately
struggle to follow them as if we weren't the ones
who wrote the rule book and we aren't the ones
who can erase it?
Why does he cover his emotions because he's scared to be called gay or too feminine?
Why does she wear long sleeves or look down when you talk to her?
It's not because of some conniving voice in all of our heads,
an imaginary force,
It's every time you made a sarcastic joke about people who defied the norm
and every time you yourself were afraid to break it,
you built the walls and now you're suffocating within them.
I see you, there, hiding, just like me, and it's painful to repress it, isn't it? It hurts because there's something more we're longing to do, somewhere else we're longing to be.
What is it that is so broken within ourselves that
we can't be raw and we can't be free and we can't kiss random strangers when we want to?
****** isn't dangerous if you don't hurt
and you don't make someone else feel vulnerable
or like they're trash for displaying
the image of God.
Why are we hiding the image of God?
Why do we cover our hearts like they're shameful to show?
We are born into this world naked and our parents
try to instill this ridiculous idea in our heads
that we can't share our innermost thoughts, we mustn't display,
"society won't like that"
YOU. ARE. SOCIETY.
I am a member of this universe, just like you,
and I was born naked and I take showers naked
and when we get up on stage, we're naked
and late at night, we're naked,
and when we cry, we're naked.
WHY ARE THERE ANY SECRETS LEFT WHEN WE ARE ALL HUMAN?
I have pain and joy, just like you, so show me.
My goal is to unclothe the knights in shining armor
because I don't care about the armor, I care
about his heart.
I will strip down these walls dividing you and me,
because I want to know everything about all people.
I want to unravel the secrets deep within God's mind.
I want to open the doors that are locked,
and I want to see you naked.
Tammy M Darby Jul 2013
Happy Valentines Day

If Venus child
Come loves melody sing
I shall break the bow
And slash the string

If he dare to infect me
Trick my heart into desire
Seasoned on a spit he will be
Roasted in a blazing fire

Conniving
Whisper sweet nothings in my ear
Tear off his wings
Turn my eyes from his tears

Not by the all the gods decree
Will I commit my love to another
Binding his mischievous hands
Return him swiftly to his mother

My warnings are clear
Unheeded
Towards me he point the arrow
His last sweet breath
This cherub shall inhale
Never more see the morrow



This poem is copyrighted and stored in author base.  All material subject to Copyright Infringement laws
Section 512(c)(3) of the U.S. Copyright
Act, 17 U.S.C. S512(c)(3),
Tammy M. Darby
The waves undulated as if
they were the backs of 100 wriggling worms
The sky shed tears as if
a 1000 angels wept for the death of hope
black clouds roiled, sparking with fury
casting lightning down upon the mire
but below, upon the sea,
a miracle was set to transpire.

A boat rushed down and over the waves...
Back and forth,
a juggler's ball tossed and turned it appeared to be.
Yet, despite the malice,
and the seething spite of the sea,
the boat was safe
snug as can be.

And in this boat was a silent baby
his eyes stared out into the turmoil
he did not understand the frustrations of the elements
how they wished to smite him where he lay.
Despite the twisting of the boat
he did not roll, nor did water coat
his soft cheeks, his baby blanket
he passed on into sleep,
into dream he
went.

He awoke to battles raging about him
the crashing of thunder
was the desolation of a mountain
the world knew war for the first time
deaths in the billions, no pasture without crime.

He stood as a man
with bearded face
skin like the earth
armor embraced.
He realized he held a mighty weapon
it gleamed in his hands
power coursed through his veins
down to his soul
up to the heavens!
A beacon of light he seemed to be
but heir to destruction he truly was.
He did not know what power does
to the feint of heart
to the well-intentioned...
He struck the ground amidst the battle
the whole Earth shook, oh, the chattering teeth!
The mountains lumbered to form again
as if by the shovels of skyward giants!
The battle paused for the barest of moments
the awe was palpable
like a kingly feast
but the people's hearts hadn't forgotten the pain
their hate surged up, like volcanic bile
despite their peace present for a while
the massacres began again in earnest
perhaps more so than before his deed.
No one knew the power he wielded.

He still had hope, he could do something!
But what greater act was there than mending mountains?
His heart was up to good,
but his mind couldn't ground him.

"I must stop their wanton annihilation!"
He roared within himself,
"Are they not my people? Am I not their savior?"
He went to the most heated battle
struck the air with his weapon
and every person's foe was replaced by their loved ones.
The battle ceased in an instant.
Each person stared in utter disbelief.
By what power had this happened?
It was said that mountains climbed back into place,
but what could summon loved ones,
even from the grave!
The fighting ceased despite their hatred,
and the stories magnified in flavor.
Many who were hungry
for peace from the storm of violence
fed upon the hearts of those in doubt
they claimed they knew who stopped the battle
they hoped to mobilize a peace effort.
He gathered these hopeful souls
banded them together so their efforts became tenfold!
Soon enough, the stories crept across the lands
across the seas
and underground.
For once, hope had purchased ground,
but hate, when cloistered, beaten back, starved,
becomes ever more malevolent,
ever more conniving.

He did not call his people an army,
he called them the Samaritan Initiative.
They did not fight their war with weapons of battle,
they fought with hands that mend and bind,
they saved the sick and the dying,
they uplifted the oppressed and those denying.

As time passed, his efforts grew,
but someone used his deeds as currency,
mobilized the scandalous, the warmongering,
someone hated he who mended the broken...
Someone plotted his demise.

He led his Samaritans across the world
each place they touched was left whole again
and though war still did reign, rotting and true,
he did not tire to end the end.

A new beginning he hoped to create,
but whispers that he was a fraud began to sate
the ears of those whose purpose it is to doubt peace,
they sowed the malice back into the healing wounds
soon enough, his power began to abate,
therefore, rumors seemed to be true.

He grew restless when he was barred from homesteads
barred from cities,
even countries!
Somehow these echoes of forgotten civilization rose
only to defy him
and he smelled someone's stench in the air.
His weapon yearned for someone's death.
For once, it did not wish to mend, but break,
and he felt spiteful all the more.
All the adoration he had garnered
had blinded him from his true purpose.
He sought out the taint that spread its tendrils.
"Someone."
He said,
"Is ruining my... empire..."

One day, while regrowing a desolated forest with his weapon,
someone came to see him.
She smiled at him, marvelled at his work.
"Who are you?"
He wondered, suddenly charmed.
"Someone you know..."
She grinned.
He spent weeks distracted and curious about her,
what was her riddle all about
and why did he feel her in his heart?
She did not seem to threaten or scheme
in fact her presence was a dream
and he yearned after her like nothing he knew
his mission delayed
his plans askew.
Many around him questioned him saying,
"Who exactly is it with whom you're playing?"
He would blush,
"Oh, someone..."

One day,
she did not meet him at their lover's spot.
She did not appear for a week, then another.
His mind began to churn about the months.
Since when had he last sent forth his healers,
or mended cities and silenced weapons dealers?
He began to be suspicious of her
he could have summoned her with a flick of his weapon,
but he dared not discover if she really were foe,
for if he should break, what can he grow?

Eventually, she appeared again,
smiling broadly, like an old friend.
He then knew the anger that so many harbored...
Oh, the twisted things he felt by her abandon,
the sheer weight of his turmoil felt too much to bear....
So he ****** it upon her without any care.
His voice was louder than a church bell,
flashing out across the forest where they would meet.
She cried out in fear
she ran from him swift
he chased after with guilt he couldn't lift.
He found her weeping by a well
on his knees he apologized incessantly.
"How could there be darkness in you,
the mender?"
Her question struck him in all places tender.
Doubt crept into his addled mind.
His weapon's glow flickered
his conscience was blind.
Surely not now should he have such trouble?
Could it really be so simple to pop his bubble?
"I love you more than I can bear!
When you leave me,
I begin to tear."
She nodded and held him close to her.

Someone watched from shadows not far,
they saw his frailty,
like a door ajar...

The months passed and he went back to work
new cities to grow and malice to mend
people saw him more for the savior he was
even though the rumors of fallacy were abuzz.

A special time became the moment of his life worthy of note,
a marriage to the woman whose life he knew by rote.
They consummated in the night and in the day.
Time seemed to stretch on and shrink all at once.
His happiness was a thing of infectious charm,
but all that glittered soon became alarm.

Upon returning home from time spent mending the broken world,
he returned to find his home
covered in blood.
He knew whose blood coated the walls.
Bones, ground into paste, smothered pictured frames.
Flesh reduced to pulp covered the floor.
His mind fractured in no way subtle.
The light of his weapon winked out with no rebuttal.
He wept uncontrollably in fits of despair.
The world seemed cold, frozen over,
desolate of love or laughter.
"I can't bear to live."

Someone crept in through the doorway.
"It's a shame, isn't it?
No man is greater than any other,
yet no man is born equal.
No man lives without love,
but every man dies alone.
Maybe you can understand now,
why we deserve our own genocide...
Maybe now you'll let us fight to the death,
and have our peace that way!"

He looked up and,
despite the pure evil that stood before him,
he did not see that.
He saw someone lost,
someone abused,
someone desperate for truth,
any truth.
He saw someone fighting to love something,
anything.
He saw someone forgotten by loved ones
after committing acts that person was unable to avoid.
He saw a frightened being
lashing out at the world
in the hopes that the suffering would end.
He felt boundless compassion.

"I have no power left."
He said.
"No power to mend or bind.
No power worth your scorn."

"I'm going to **** you now."

"If I'm to die,
I hope my blood is enough for all who suffer."

"You're no messiah! You're just a lie we all want to believe!"

"If I was just a man...
I would have died when you killed her.
I would have hungered for torturous retribution.
But you have broken no one.
You're someone who needs to see your own suffering
out in the world
to justify the injustice dealt upon you.
But for every drop of effort you put into destroying her,
I wish you never experience my pain.
I wish to mend what drove you to break me,
so no one else may be harmed by you,
or anyone you inspire to deal death."

"No, I defeated you..."

"You tried..."

The weapon flickered.

"No, no, you can't feel love for me...
You don't have the *****."

"I have very big *****."

"You think you can love me?
After how I destroyed you!"

"If I could be destroyed,
I would already be dead!"

The weapon burst forth with light!

The killer realized they were someone foolish
Someone lost
Someone in need of healing.
For if "he" could not be broken,
surely there was hope.
If he could mend mountains
bring back loved ones and unite lost families
grow cities from the earth itself
grow forests from twigs
and deny a cold-hearted killer
the satisfaction
the honor
of seeing the fractures of a shattered soul
in blood-red, swollen, tearful eyes,
perhaps this man,
this one man,
could reveal what love is
to the killer's own famished soul.

He saw something shift in the eyes of that tortured someone.

That's when he realized...
That's when he understood.
He had the thirst for solving puzzles,
but humanity is not a machine,
it is a collection of gears
each just as vital as the whole,
for the whole does not exist without the worth
of every individual.
And to ignore an individual like this...
Someone who stood at the center of all the woe,
the evil,
and the tragedy in the world.
To ignore them would be to throw out the puzzle completely.

"May I mend you?"

Realizing they were someone facing an open door,
that person nodded.

He struck that person with his weapon.
Light flooded out as if by the sun itself.
Time seemed to stop.
People looked up in wonder of the light.
The very winds halted,
seas stilled,
nature perked up in unison.

When the light faded, he saw himself staring in a mirror.
The man in the mirror had blood-stained hands.

He stepped across the threshold and hugged himself.
His darkness hugged him back and the blood seemed to vanish.

"I forgive myself for killing her."

His darkness melted into a bulbous, gooey form and sank into him,
as if he were some kind of sponge,
leaving no trace of the darkness visibly.
He accepted within himself that he was capable of
unimaginable evil.
He accepted that he had control
and that he was responsible for the health and sickness
of the world.

Around him, the world began to shift.
In fact, it appeared to melt into liquid
and splash around him.
The liquid became clear, like the ocean.
It splashed and slid,
rocking him about.

Light flashed!

The baby awoke, curious about the world around him.
His boat had touched some distant shore.
Flecks of water spotted his cheeks and he laughed.

A couple crept up to the boat.
"I swear I heard a baby," a man said.
"You're crazy," a woman said, "Out here?"
The couple looked within the boat
and found the baby smiling at them with his
toothless, innocent smile.
The woman held a hand to her chest in awe.
She tenderly carried the baby out of the boat
and rocked it in her arms.
The baby laughed.
The man reached out.
"Not that hand!" The woman said, "You just cut yourself!"
"It's okay, no blood anymore, see?"
He pinched the baby's cheeks.
The baby touched his hand.
His **** healed in an instant!
"Woah!" The woman yelled.
Feeling for a scar where there were none,
the man stared in wonder at the child.
"Honey," he said, "This kid's got potential..."
This poem sort of came out of nowhere.
It does sit on the border between a poem and a story.
I've been fascinated by the Poetic Edda and the Iliad, how a poem could be hundreds of thousands of words long.

So here's my little poetic narrative.

Enjoy!

DEW
Warda Kashif Feb 2014
The crowd sits patiently
Waiting
For magic
At the hands of this
Magician

He smiles at them
Connecting
With every soul
The first trick of any
Magician

They prepare themselves
Trusting
To not be cheated
By this intriguing
Magician

He entertains them into
Loving
His every act
Reassuring the conniving
Magician

The crowd goes wild
Loving
The magic on stage
Erupting from this
Magician

He smiles once again
Secretly
Knowing the deciet
Of a trap set by a
Magician

The audience has been made
Foolish
For believing
In this insincere
Magician
River Jan 2016
She's a goddess

A beautiful creation
Flaunting perfection
An excruciating temptation

Conniving temptress
Gaining eternal interests

A goddess above all
She watches men fall

Her piercing eyes
Sing of broken lullabies

Her beauty lies within the tide.
Scorpios are captivating.
iamtheavatar Apr 2016
We are all hypocrites,
passionate on
crime, ***, and drama

We are all hypocrites,
building our
two-dimensional dioramas

We think fast,
our half-witted brains
conniving

We talk fast,
our foolproof tongues
praising

We love to hate others,
and bask in the glory
of their demise

We hate to love our brothers,
for all our speeches
are mem'rized

Stepping stones from naivety
Our vainglorious insanity
Romanticizing reality

The hand that
feeds us
is our enemy

When will this stop?

**iamthe_avatar ©2016
Note to self.
anastasia Apr 2022
I was molded by his own hand
sculpted to perfection and eager to please
who else other than my husband
for without Adam, there is no Eve

at least, that was before he slithered into our perfect life
pounding our perfect garden into the ground with his slick feet
conniving and a brute,
he convinced me to take a bite
and share my fruit with man
for what is mine is his
my knowledge is his

I am his

together we ate
snacking and licking our fingers with glee
wiping the secretions of the fruit of mankind
against the tree we tore it from

until our Paradise's pastures declined
the wildflowers overtrodded with weeds
the singing waterfall vanished
only to be replaced by an evil, magmatic spout

and our tree,
our once bountiful, glorious, fruitful tree
decayed from the inside out

Adam's burning glare rotted my fruit and my seeds
until they and I dropped to the burning embers on the ground
like nicks off of a pebble that was thrown too hard
or like hairs from the back of a matted mother cat
that has spent far too many heatless winters hunting
for a different life,
for any life

with no more than a curse from Him,
I became the failed experiment of humanity
tossed into God's own graveyard
left to rot with my stolen seed
AJ Dec 2014
His nicotine tongue was the most conniving part of his existence.
Every time it made contact with mine,
I tasted Marlboros,
the only brand he would buy.
Whatever his nicotine tongue
did to mine sent me into
a tornado of insanity each time,
like I was one of his cigarettes,
but he put me out,
stepped on me,
before I could burn his lips.
His nicotine tongue told his mouth
to speak such brutal words
that would make me
fall in love with him
over and over,
lighting me up and up,.
He had never kept me lit,
put me out before I could
trick him into thinking
"love"
could be a hole
he could also fall in.
He had carried me
around in his pocket,
his nicotine tongue
telling him to fuel his craving
and pull me out,
wrapping his mouth
around me and breathing me in
until I was no more.
But the more he
breathed me in,
the more his
nicotine tongue
started to die.
I was toxic.
He never did fall in love with me,
but I did end up
being the one to
stomp
him
out.
two toxics can never mix
Amitav Radiance Jul 2014
Deceit comes in so many disguise
Caught unaware by its stealth blow
Shaking the core of your belief
Leaving you no ground to stand on
Relentless deceit, so many layers
Coming in the garb of trusted
Conceited, it takes pride in hurting
Deceit is conniving for fresh strike
Tearing away the soul and its existence
It has thrived through centuries
Launched many warring factions
Pitted against each other, thirsty for blood
For deceit will always draw blood
Silently bleeding the heart of its feelings
Deceit always innovates, with new disguise
Rob Sandman Mar 2016
All respect to Immortal Technique for the original "Dance with the Devil"(from whence the inspiration came)

Idea by Mr.Sandman ,Lyrics,-Tormented Soul("Mr.Sandman")The Devil(Jay Byrne)
Heavily influenced by and sampled from Immortal Technique(and Richard Kadrey's Sandman Slim novels,but that's another story...)

sample Immortal tech

"Now the Devil follows me every where that I go,
in fact I'm sure he's standing among one of you at my shows"

"The devil follows me,since an early age
was the recipient and donor of a murderous rage,
spit it down on page,burns like Alien acid,
my demeanor?the opposite of placid,
acid tabs and bags of yokes,coke and ket,
I'll eat,sniff and swallow,then smoke over your death,
been an agent of terror,since I turned 13,
and met the vicious demon who was dwelling within"

Vicious ? Me ? No- you got it all wrong.
I've been lookin' out for you all along.
Come on. Come help me sing my song.


"who the hell is this voice inside,I've heard all along?
the sniggering,conniving,font of my wrongs,
666 tattoo is a dubious crown,
for I know what awaits me underground"

sample
"Now the Devil follows me every where that I go,
in fact I'm sure he's standing among one of you at my shows"

Chorus(Skitz),so no matter what your sins,deeds,torments,sorrows,
you're ****** lucky that the devil chose me to follow...

Jay- But your tomorrow is borrowed from me, the keeper of sorrows..
..hallowed be the shadows.

So no matter what your sins,deeds,torments,sorrows,
praise your god that the devil chose me to follow...

But your tomorrow is borrowed from me, the keeper of sorrows..
..your soul soon to follow.


Sample
"so if the devil wants to dance with you you better say never,
cause a dance with the devil might last you for ever"

you **** trickster I loved her,you made me ****,
my own wife to add grist to your evil mill

I'm contrite. Never my intention.
You seemed to succumb to your own aggression.
But I can ease your pain...


"power,money,*****,drugs,material gain,
seem to pale when the devil's caught the glimmering flame,
of your soul in a trap like a rabbit in a snare..."

So who's to blame ? You knew my name.
Yet you choose to play the game all the same.
You were my goal.
Earthly pleasures,measured against your soul.


"Earthly pleasures? don't make me laugh,
last night I saw a helpless girl torn in half,
at my request,but your behest,I'm a puppet on a string,
screaming at the voice of doom that comes from within."

Chorus(Mr Sandman),so no matter what your sins,deeds,torments,sorrows,
you're ****** lucky that the devil chose me to follow...

(Jay) But your tomorrow is borrowed from me, the keeper of sorrows..
..hallowed be the shadows.


So no matter what your sins,deeds,torments,sorrows,
praise your god that the devil chose me to follow...

But your tomorrow is borrowed from me, the keeper of sorrows..
..your soul soon to follow.


I've tried every way to rid myself of your stain,
priests,exorcists,witches,all driven insane,

but a deal was struck,  "I was too young to know!,
that for a brief life of pleasure I was trading my SOUL,

Poor little bird. Sing a sorrowful song.
Use the word of your God but now your God's gone.
You try to hold on. It won't be long. You are a pawn.
Dwellin' in Hell and with demon spawn.


"AHHHHH,STOP...-your incessant gloating,
devil,demon in my hearts core floating,
if I had the subtlest knife I'd slice you out of my life,
instead of acting like a monster in a mockery,a half life,
please,I'm on my knees,but god's not listening,
as I look at more innocent blood glistening"

(Your new christening).A last act of contrition.
Baptism of fire. My ire still whispering


"he cried out to the sky cause he was lonely and scared,
but only the devil responded,Cause God wasn't there"-

And Now the Devil follows me every where that I go,
in fact I'm sure he's standing among one of you at my shows"

Chorus(Mr Sandman),so no matter what your sins,deeds,torments,sorrows,
you're ****** lucky that the devil chose me to follow...

But your tomorrow is borrowed from me, the keeper of sorrows..
..hallowed be the shadows


So no matter what your sins,deeds,torments,sorrows,
praise your God that the devil chose me to follow...

*But your tomorrow is borrowed from me, the keeper of sorrows..
..your soul soon to follow
This is a story of a lost soul...
to hear this Poem as a song with my band Eclectic Collective Eire(or just E.C.) go here https://soundcloud.com/eclectic-collective-eire/the-devil-follows-me

To hear Dance with the Devil by Immortal Technique,(which Inspired me with the idea for The Devil Follows me) and watch a fantastic video and song with a twist ending like a gut punch,
search "Immortal Technique Dance With the Devil - Animated Short Film" on Youtube.
MicMag Feb 2019
Let's sit down together
And have a discussion
And by that I mean
Lots of yelling and cussin

To your own opinion
You're entitled - that's fine
But your view is wrong
If it's different from mine

If you don't echo my thoughts
I don't care what you think
You're bad for our country
Taking us to the brink

Here's the way it is
No room for debate
And if you don't agree
You're deserving of hate

Evil, conniving,
Dumb or deplorable
Lazy, elitist,
Whatever - you're horrible

Our problems all stem
From the other side
So much for United
We'd rather divide
But don't worry, our side definitely isn't like that at all
Thandiwe Mar 2014
Since then...I allowed my heart to take whatever form it wanted.
I trusted the process, letting the heart mould itself as it is supposed to.
I had ample faith that the end is far....little did I realise the end is right next to me.

At first, it felt like a bulldozer had savaged my entire being.
Your words left my mind empty, without a way forward.
A deep grave of hate slowly formed...that is where you would end up.
As appetizing the thought...I want nothing to do you.
Even you residing in my den of enemies is not worth it.
I have done a thorough clean up of hoodlums and heartbreakers like you.
You seem so pointless. This anger towards you is pointless.

I look forward to the treasures that will bloom from this. I'm convinced there are treasures.
You have no hold over my dreams and I refuse to allow my heart to slump in your filth.
It was hard, felt like the world was dumped on my shoulders, soul dark and heavy, mouth dry and tears flooding my living room.
But after a serious self-talk....I remembered my worth, remembered you mean nothing to me....you have no hold on my destiny.
The love you spoke of was and is fake. I don't need it.

I don't need that sort of make-believe love which has no truth...
The kind that loves the idea of love...yet despises love itself.
I have no place for thieves and liars....robbers and fakes.
My mind keeps telling me this is for the best and that better days are to come.

I feel sorry for the one you chose, she knows nothing of your hoodlum ways and smooth tongue.
Coated with every lie possible yet disguised with a fake-romance finish.
She knows not of your empty heart...
your inability to be real...
your other side...
your effortless ways of hurting another...
precious time which meant zero to you...
your exhausted yet experienced hands..
your over used 'I will wait for you'....
your conniving ways disguised by caring efforts...
your smile and charm packaged by pure deceit.

She is clueless. And so in love....I shake my head in despair for you dear sister.
I trust you will not endure the heartache I did.
I hope he will see you a better person than I.
I trust he repects you. Genuinely loves you.

She will bear the brunt of your heart smashing ways.
I am done and over the 'could haves & would haves'...
New day brings new opportunity.
Time to listen to my soul and feed my mind.
Re-enjoy the beauty of living and re-mind myself of may chosen path.
Jessica Feb 2011
Take something as simple as grains of sand,
Look at it if you can,
Picture it if you must,
Now, understand that your life IS revolving around these insignificant, ugly,
Things.
Lemme ask you something
Is it beautiful to you?
Because when everything’s beautiful
Everything means something.
It’s quite the opposite for me.
What’s whirling around me is not for the faint of heart.
You may think you’re prepared but you honestly
Aren’t.
Under this pale, freckled covered skin and heavy, hair matched, eyes is a dull dying soul.
Living with a severed heart. What was once carefully mended from the past broken road.
So…
I see you’ve made a fool of me, yet again.
Does my sheltered being tickle your funny bone?
Give you that…ya know
Painful laughter. As if inside you is screaming
“How could I be hurting the one I claimed to have loved?!” I was your happy, I was your crazy, I was your
Beautiful.
You had your lame, unacceptable, pathetic, coldhearted, mean, conniving reasons. Don’t worry I understand. But I am no longer the little girl from your memories, so stop living in them…it intervenes from the
Now.

And now, thing’s aren’t so beautiful.
Dorothy Apr 2014
But what about me!? What about my feelings!?
What about my needs!? It’s my heart you’re unknowingly stealing!

Don’t ignore my love, I’ll make you miss my presence
Show you what you’ve lost so you wished you never left it
Because I know you didn’t mean to drop my heart, here’s some glue
Now get to fixin’ I’m desperate

Obsessed and conniving with a plash guile touch
When did she get so vigilant with her fussbudget qualities?

OH babygirl you’re to much!
Stop wanting things you cant have, and don’t force someone to Love.
You fell for him big deal, doesn’t mean it was meant to be.
Don’t let this one guy devastate you
It’s your love and you can still give it out freely.

Lets not add another person with their heart locked down
’cause of a few let downs
All casually swimming in that
Pool of “I don’t believe in true love” crowd
They go around shut off from the world
Refusing life’s love passion pearls

Instead accept the ones who loves you now
More love will come your way, quit searching for a when,where & how
Let nature take it’s course and follow it
Restrict not your love just the need for it to always be accepted

Prince charming will be here to scoop up his queen
In the meantime enjoy having just yourself, figure out what life’s got to offer
Its right at your fingertips nearly bursting at the seams.
Nicole Mar 2013
What do you do when your heart tells you one thing,
And your head another?
When you're aware of the cold hard facts
But your emotions disagree.
I know how she makes me feel
In either situation
Back and forth with pain and joy
It's enough to give you whiplash.
I've seen how she can be
Sweeter than most and in need of someone who really cares
But I've witnessed her true colors as well
Conniving lies and all.
So when it comes down to it, who do you really believe in,
The one you want to,
or the one you know best?
I know she's got a sweet side but she's truly not a very good person. And Im sick of my emotions allowing me to fall for her lies and games.
Liv C Jun 2011
I'm always being declined ..I'm sick of being behind.. waiting for your reminder that I'm here .. I'm missing and sinking.. even drifting away.. maybe one day I'll mean more than a chore.. Just keep this in store that I supported you.. loved and cared for you .. regardless of the truths I refuse to accept .. what the heck is wrong with me..? You fooled me twice so I'm no longer rolling the dice.. just leave because its you I no longer believe.. You're  a thief.. Took my heart and broke it a part.. Yet you give me that look.. that smile.. like a conniving crocodile.. I cave.. and give in.. and forget that sin that you did.. I ******* love you that's it.. Just take it as it is..
I run and hide.. yet you appear in my mind and disappear like a dime.. I'm constantly haunted of the memories of what it use to be.. Closing my eyes lying on your sidewalk ...  I remember our walk.. the way we talked.. we connected.. Look at it now almost thought it hit a dead end then.. you were reminded....
forget me not snot
shot through the top of a
hot box,
popping the rotting thoughts
up town and then down to drown
in the down town
clown-around facade parade
made to order for the
penniless quartered,
fast pace like a rocket ship
drag race,
dragging and driving,
on mars for cliff diving
writhing in the conniving
need for superior timing,
space, time and rhyming
shattering mirrors,
pushing lightyears into the ears
of the universe beast,
waiting for his feast of
treats and honeyed beef,
give the monster what he
wants or he'll take both you and me
forever deceased in the
crease of the time box
space case and
rhyme...
I just realized that "facade" is not pronounced "fa-cade" as I thought it was, but it works in this poem, so can you just read it like that for this poem?
There was a kingdom by the sea
that had a name
but most called it just
The Pearl of the Coast,
because that is what it was.
The riches within the city walls were more than an outsider could fathom,
and a bustling economy promised to keep it that way.
The Pearl had been led for half a century
by a wise King
and a just Queen.
Between them, they had one daughter,
who was pretty enough to truly count as one of the riches of their city.
Suiters came from far and wide, hoping to get
just
one
glimpse
of her fair beauty
before the fickle girl brushed them off her shoulders like mosquitoes.
It had no true spoken enemies,
for the walls and army were too great to conquer
but riches
bring dark men
to plotting and scheming.

There was a band of other kingdoms-
all prosperous, but not quite as much so as the Pearl
who were jealous and greedy
and coveted the jewels of the Pearl
all for themselves.
They would plan together,
but none could quite figure out how to get past the huge walls
and the spears of the watchmen.
But once, to their conniving company came
a Dark Magician
feared all around for his power and his wit.
These Kings of lesser kingdoms, though,
they saw only and opportunity to be seized.

They promised the Magician a share of the riches
if he would help them bring the Pearl to its knees.

The Magician, after little consideration,
obliged.

From their greed, he fashioned a Homunculus
shaped it like a handsome young man
more handsome than anyone could be born as
and sent him to the palace.
The Princess was vain and swept off her feet
by this new young man
and soon took to calling her.
There was one, though, who saw through him.
Perhaps it was his own jealousy that cleared his eyes,
but a young Sorcerer,
the closest friend of the Princess,
and the only man who had ever loved her truly,
warned of the Homunculus.
The Princess, smitten, was outraged.
The warning given by a friend only encouraged the relationship,
as those things often do
for children love to see themselves as Star Crossed Lovers
and the fickle Princess estranged herself from her oldest friend,
though the Sorcerer stayed loyal.

One night, however,
the King and Queen,
who themselves were quietly against the union,
were murdered.
The cause was clear:
Magic.
The guard turned to the Sorcerer,
for he had been turned down by the Princess,
and was, as they said, Hungry for revenge.
Only his past friendship saved his life,
and he was imprisoned in an empty tower a mile outside of the Pearl's walls.
He howled to be set free,
and the Princess would listen from her widow's walk.
Only when the howling stopped and was replaced
by a bitter silence
did her heart break.

After her marriage to the Homunculus
she started to wither
and hid herself in her chamber.
The guards would often see her wandering the grounds at night
wringing her hands and moaning in sorrow and paranoid fear.
"He might come back," she would whisper
and then burst into tears.
Often she was mistaken for a ghost,
and her parade of visitors slowly trickled to a stop.
Meanwhile, the Homunculus had taken control of the Kingdom.
He actually did more for the economy that the past King and Queen did,
for he had opened up trade with a shady band of kingdoms
that everyone had sworn that they had been in a Cold War with
just yesterday...

It had been nearly twenty years
when the Magician demanded that the band of kings
pay him for his work.
They had been ruling the Pearl from the shadows for some time now,
and he was ripe for his due.
The Kings' greed though had only inflated after they had their prize
as had their pride.
And they,
foolishly,
declined.
The Magician was outraged.
He called back his creation one day in March.

The Homunculus knew that the sword of Damocles was ready to drop,
and hastened in his escape
but
over the years
he had grown attached to his Queen
and it pained him to think of her suffering along with him.
He warned her himself
that the Pearl was to be destroyed spectacularly
and then he fled,
and she never saw his face again.

The Queen was horrified
and looked out over the people who she had neglected for twenty years.
No longer a beauty,
but a frightened old woman.
She knew what she had to do.
Grabbing her travel cloak around her,
the Queen rode as fast as she could
to the tower outside of the walls.
Her old friend was still sitting there,
chained to the wall.
Never had the woman seen such squalor, and it broke her heart all over again.
His hair was long and matted,
not peppered, but smeared with gray.
His robes were those that he had worn on the day he was taken away
crusted with filth.
The tower was falling down around him;
huge gaping holes where windows had been
mocked the poor Sorcerer
and the fireplace that should have been maintained by guards
was nothing more than smoldering coals.

The Queen fell to her knees and begged his forgiveness,
begged him to save the city that he had been shunned from.
But so many things about him had changed,
and all of the kindness had leaked from his eyes.
He rose onto his feet, and the rats skittered away.

"You fool!" He cried,
"I cannot save them!
The Magic coming has already been set in motion, and I,
I have not eaten more than rats and the dirt from the floor in more than twenty years.
I am hopelessly weak, with only the strength for one more spell. "
He grabbed the Queen's hands, the sorrow of his broken heart overshadowed by rage.
"You will watch this tragedy, for it is one of your own making!
I curse you so that you may never die,
never sleep,
not till you have worked the labors of every servant
of the world begins to burn!"
With that, he pushed the shocked woman aside
and, scrambling to the fire,
swallowed the hot coals
and died there in front of his betrayer.

The Queen could do nothing but watch
as the sky turned black,
and the sea rose up
and swallowed the Pearl.
The screams of her people were silenced quickly,
leaving her alone
with her thoughts
and the body of the only man
who had ever
loved her.
Yumna Zahid Oct 2012
You can love me or loathe me,
Agree or disagree,
But you can never erase me.

I drive you,
Rein you in or rip you apart,
I encroach your mind with my conniving hands,
Yet you haven't the strength to expunge me.

However you might shut me out or restrain me
But in the end you succumb and I win.

I give you the hope to live,
The backbone to prop yourself up in despairing times,
The happiness to rejoice.

Call me friend or fiend,
Your fort or your facade,

Nonetheless I'm your past,
Will be your future and I'm here right now...
I'm undeniably your conscience
Anderson M May 2013
Ego
Thou art so conniving
You conspire to purge me of my sense of reasoning
Leaving me bare to suffer the perils of an incongruous world
Belittled by all and sundry
Or how else do you explain a scenario where
The words I am sorry are too heavy a spittle
To be spoken to a loved one to whom I’ve wronged
Severing a lifelong relation in the process
Could be am being too ******* you
And that you are so patronisingly benevolent
Condescendingly overseeing my rise up the social ladder
Trouncing and prancing on the shrewd and their kind
Either way I salute your ingenuity
Indeed keep up the uncanny spectacle.
Dark n Beautiful Jul 2018
A little nod to Kiki Petrosino

The heart ceases to beat. Because
Some ghosts are my exes
neither angry nor kind
their faces spiral like
old windmills that clings to dry autumn leaves
looking for a place to land:

Not all ghosts are my exes
I remember them as stingy, and womanizing
Some were wolves in sheep clothing
Not smart but conniving species,
They capture your attention, like
a slow moving sunrise, then lure you
Like a vampire before dawn to have his feed:

But that isn’t all, some of my ghosts who
Walks amongst the mortal grinning
Asking to be friends, to forgive, to reflect,
Not a clever move, my ghostly friends,
just deceiving: Tactics

As a wise man once told me,
No one can hurt me without my permission…
So some of the blame, of misfortune lies on me
I have a question. What is real? Should it be based on what you can feel because now feel can be touch or emotion, I feel the suns warm rays the same as I feel my heart break and no one can tell me or you that either is not real because we can feel so I ask what it is you feel? I for one feel imprisoned by the Mold society has put me in as a man I have to be handsome,brave,loving, trusting and understanding but at the same time because I am a man I am by default a conniving, cheating, abusive, alcoholic, womanizing pig, why? Because " we are all the same" such caprice why? Why is it I must feel ashamed to be a man why is it I must be everything you want and don't want, the light of your day and the darkness of the night the Prince Charming in your life fairytale as well as the villain with the apple in my hand ,the apple of my eye is that what you want? I feel as if I'm just the means to an end the end being the moment I yield to this mold these confines in my mind why do I have to feel like I'm the enemy? how is it my fault? you're the one who laid in the sands of his beaches indulging in that forbidden fruit from the garden of eden, your tears now fueling its sea,  but all i hear are your cries of betrale his name the lyric of choice but I see, I should take the blame its what is wanted of me the good guy but the moment I deviate from your plans I am the evil one I'm the reason for these broken hearts mine and yours I'm the devil can't you see the flames you set In my personal hell in my mind in my soul
why is it I'm a mockery?
My most recant scribed spoken word poem
sobroquet Aug 2013
Our Father
         Woe! to these  demonic determined downtrodden deceivers,
         Woe! Oh Thine merciless mendicants of misery and maleficent mendacity
         Woe! Oh common corrupt conniving cunning calumnious crusaders of crucifixion...
          scurrilous screeds scribbling sorrows
          The Lord will sharpen thou pencils...
Thou pocket protectors whilst melt into thine *******...
Thou spectacles opaque and  permanently smudged...with  other assorted
myriad miseries
       Thou  mittens will be smitten with interminable degeneracy...
       Oh languid leaders of licentious lubricious larceny..
          Oh craving calculating copious concupiscent  calumnious falsifiers...
         Oh maudlin mocking  manipulators, multitudinous marauding machinations
  Thy God is an angry God
 a vengeful God
     a jealous God

  Oh **** pots and gall!  Oh sordid ****** insalubrious denizens of depraved      degeneracy
Take heed  thou names mightn't appear in the almighty book of life when  judgement deigns an  
 opprobrious order of objurgation
                     terrible tragic tempestous tribulations  of treachery                            
  Oh  Woe! Alas!
           They are fallacious febrile fabricators, fallen , fragmented flawed fugacious furtive     falsifiers!!      
          scalawags and rapscallions..rascals of ribaldry..forlorn fallen away backslidden  recalcitrants…
            Oh misguided miserable miscreants, maladies and agitation be thy lot!

         This rant has been brought to you by:
         The Most High and Holy Priest of the Ignoble Church of Alliteration & Utter Skepticisim
To be spoken with great force and fervent  magniloquent sententious fury as from the  pulpit in a lecturers sermon.
(hell and brimstone;  pompous, sanctimoniously vain glorious, strutting and finger pointing, with frenzied gesticulations)
Egaeus Thompson Dec 2012
I don’t love you.
But if I did,
I would spend countless hours writing poems for you.

I don’t love you.
But if I did,
I would perform seppuku so not only I could remove the pain of you being with another man,
but I could show you all of the scars in me that you left behind.

I don’t love you.
But if I did,
I would construct convoluted, conniving catastrophes in which every man that hurts you gets the plague.
I would spend hours on your facebook hoping for a hint that you still care,
And not care that the amount of time spent thinking about the idea I have of you could be used to possibly pursue another,
Though all I want is to be wrapped in beautiful white cloth with you,
Swinging slowly in the warming sunlight and talking about nothing but everything is felt instead of heard and the intentions of what is said become blindingly more important than what is heard.

I don’t love you.
But if I did,
I would hold it deep inside, though the sight of your car outside his house at three in the morning and the news of your new job and new tattoos drive pins covered in ‘I love you’ into the pit of my stomach, promptly followed by bowling ball to knock them down.

I don’t love you…

…*but if I did, I would pretend that I don’t.
Valerie Csorba Mar 2015
I am sick and ******* tired of screaming so loud and having no one hear me, so if this is the first and last time I get this out there then so be it.
We're living in a world that is rampant with hatred towards others who deserve nothing but love and devotion.  And we find ourselves on our knees worshiping  those who warrant disgust and shame. We exist in a system that is so ******* corrupt that I fail to see any solution that we may have for correcting this.
Everyone's talking about killing people and ******* the corpses and those criminals are still out there roaming the streets without a care in the world because someone else is serving THEIR time. If you don't get caught that means you've succeeded right? Their breathe reeks like the skeletons in their closet, and still we refuse to open the ******* door to expose the truth.
There's sexism in the courts; a chick can say you looked at her the wrong way and she can get your *** sent to jail. One word about a threat, and someone's in handcuffs. A man steps away from a law man to gain some time to defend himself against heinous accusations and gets saddled with resisting arrest. Criminals with permission.
We shouldn't have to ******* worry about whether someone will be here one day and be locked up the next. Live and let live has turned into search and destroy everything you once held dear to yourself.
I have the right to remain silent and even if I don't say anything, they will use it against me... just like my past significant other used his weight of over 300+ pounds to own me however he saw fit.
While you're up there taking an oath to tell the truth, the whole truth so help you God, your right hand extended to some supposedly glorious being and lying through your ugly ******* teeth, I'll be over here solemnly swearing I am up to no good, conniving to set things back on track.
Call it Karma or call it anarchy, call it whatever the ******* like, but things need to ******* change. It's time.
I have the right to remain silent, but it sure as hell doesn't mean I'm going to.
straight from heaven itself..
we fell
just fell straight down into the darkness.
our angel wings were pure..
they slowly became engulfed into the filthiest black as we fell further with gravity
we fell through the trees
the sharp branches slit our skin and scratched the feathers of our wings as we fell
we shattered the earths surface..
we sat staring at the strangeness...
these gentle wings drooped downward around our bodies..
softly they brushed the cracking land we sat on with their gentle tips
..the tall trees hunching their claws over us whispering curses of deceit
we once shook with fear
but now this became our realm of comfort...
porcelain tears formed at the edges of our eyes
our tears never reached the ground
these hearts that once existed
sadly crystalized
our cold stone hearts stopped beating..
our eyes turned into glossy black marbles...
we could stare right through your soul if we wanted
we were
vulnerable
deepened with sadness
a sadness that was reflected through our eyes
an emotion so deeply piercing a rusted fork trying to stab through a rib cage in a repeating jabbing motion wouldn't even compare.
longing for something that we never found.
the maps to happiness were burned with the fire of hatred
hair lay over our black mirror eyes
our radiant halos diminished radiation
they dimmed to dullness..these delicate auras we cherished
yet they were replaced...
replaced with a black aura and a pair of distorted glazed horns
those twisted manifestations
I watched them arising from that pretty little head of yours as it ruptured your scull
we matched and it made me smile
I think I felt a certain beauty for these creatures we became
our eyes glossed and down cast
we do not look up to the sun anymore because it did not exist
the moon was my favorite, it spoke in tongues
take my soul and stash it 6ft under with the decay.
we manifest the lurid .
you and I.
imperfection must have a place to go with its own kind..
because nobody wants un-ordinary
you are the only one who understands what I feel...
because we feel together..
we fell together..
we are defected as two
but we can love each other..
we love each other in this distorted form of beauty.
this frozen air representing a noose choking the trachea
the thick fog blurring our sight from paradise visions
that loveliness that we are restricted to see any more
but, this vision of darkness suits my  emotions better.
we will call this place home sweet home.
this place filled with fear.
for we cast it like a spell upon the land.
this solemn forest of decrepitude
not just evil..but conniving.
we just add onto this darkness of confused, and mentally abused.
we will find more people and start designing their headstones with their bones like name tags.
you and I.
to create our own universe of this ugly beauty we define.
together we fell.
together we will fiend.
'Bounce my face off the floor,  maybe then you will recognize me'
Burn my skin so you will remember my scream
Pull my hair to feel colors slide between your fingers
Punch me
Make me feel something
Other than a lie you built during the day
Making people believe you are charming and handsome
When the true you is conniving and distasteful
Your teeth are never white,  
Rotting yellow behind your pale lips
Your hair is thin, and in places on your scalp disappearing
(like I wish I could)
I dream of knocking you down
And breaking your bones harder than you ever snapped mine
And knocking your teeth out
While I pack my bags and watch you bleed on that new tan carpet you just installed
And even adding an extra kick in the head
Just for laughs.
If I am lucky you will be brain dead,
But alive just enough to where you can watch me live my life fully,  loving heartily, And most importantly,
Speak my mind without fear, or your voice replacing mine anymore
The first line is a quote from Sons of Anarchy
I have someone I know that is in an abusive relationship, and is trying to get out.  If you know someone, do something!!
a m a n d a Oct 2016
(edited, updated, bigger, longer, richer, and better than ever)
(hilz says hi)
#obviouslyshepaidme
#idonthaveamindofmyown


when your opponent’s husband
(who, by the way,
is an entirely different
human being
than his wife, and is not
running for president
)
has an affair,
or is accused of
****** assault,
the claims are
absolutely
100% true.
the women
must be believed.
he* is
a criminal.

your candidate will go
so far as to invite
some of those women to
the debate to
shame his opponent,
and show
how *supportive
he is
of these women.
(because they are
serving his purpose).

your opponent’s husband
is a liar,
a ******,
a pig.
absolute filth
that should be
thrown in prison.

in fact,
your opponent
is even worse than him,
she attacked
those women. she
didn't believe them.
this is proof of
her hatred
of women.
(oh, the irony is
not lost on me, no sir.)

(also,
let’s pretend that
your candidate didn’t call
that exact man, your
opponent's husband,
a “victim” in regard to
the exact same situation
in 1998.)

oh wait,
i forgot you don’t care about things that
happened any
longer ago
than yesterday. unless we
are talking about
the opponent. because then
OBVIOUSLY
it doesn’t matter
when in time
she said or
did something.)
duh.

(this is what we like
to call a double standard.)

moving right along.

if the same thing
happens to your
own candidate,
accusers come forward,
OBVIOUSLY
everyone else on earth
is lying EXCEPT
him.
in fact,
every accuser (i lost
track of the number)
is an absolute liar,
too ugly for assault,
and getting paid
by a massive
worldwide conspiracy,
controlled by your
political opponent who
you also describe as never
having accomplished anything
in her life.
(strange how that works.)

when your candidate’s
wife does pretty
much the exact same
thing
your opponent did,
(stand by her husband)
proclaim his innocence,
and discredit the claims,
(for which you
label her
a liar,
an enabler,
an enemy of women)
it doesn't matter
anymore, because it
was your wife
saying it.
think about that for a second.

i’m just checking, guys.
i’m just trying to figure this out.

-

you do not like
that your opponent
has money. or seeks power.
that makes
her a disgusting,
horrible,
conniving,
***** *****.
(and DEFINITELY
has nothing to do
with the fact that she is
a woman).

and i guess the thing
that we are all
pretending
(right? we are
pretending this?)
that
she has
more money
than he does.
(she doesn’t).

anywhoo,
but because she has money,
she pays off literally everyone
on this blue planet.

she's probably even
paying me right now.

i'm probably a liberal
operative,
born in a lab,
bred for vengeance,
and the destruction
of these united states,
and this is
the culmination
of my life's work.
i jest.

but in fact,
your candidate has
MORE money
than her.

at least he says he does.
of course to you
this does not
matter and you
see no contradiction
in your thinking.

we don’t even
consider for
a moment
that
he pays
people off.
because, yeah,
billionaires don't
have any political
connections).
but how can we
even prove it?
he refuses
to submit his
tax returns to
the public, after saying
on record that he
would, but
don’t worry about that,
we don't care that he lies.
that’s not suspicious at all.
(for the love
of everything holy,
can you imagine the
fire and brimstone
if obama refused to
release his?!)
i mean it's so
ridiculous it makes me laugh.

alrighty then, moving along, once again.

when she
changes position
on a policy,
she is a liar.
a manipulator.
cannot be
trusted,
a flip-flopper,
being swayed by
special interests.

when he does it,
he is “evolving.”
i can't even say that
with a straight face.
(and let’s not for one
second pretend
he hasn’t flip-flopped
on almost every single
issue (guns, immigration,
foreign issues, his opponent,
nukes, wars, abortion, etc.).
see link at bottom for ***** and giggles.
-

she lies. she’s a liar.
we hate liars.

you use that
as your shield.


he never lies. (a-hem)
he LITERALLY LIES on
video, contradicting
HIMSELF, and his
own campaign,
within minutes.
not even years. minutes.

i mean geez,
it’s not like you
can scour
the internet for
proof or anything.

-

he respects women.
hmmm...let us
look at the evidence, shall we?

calls women accusing him of  ****** assault
ugly, out for money, liars. all of them.
because i guess
attraction = rapeability?
(it does not)
(even though he admitted to doing whatever
he wants to do to women, without asking, in his
own words)
it's on record.

he talks about
young girls
in sexualized terms.
it's on record.

he agreed
that he doesn’t
respect women.
it's on record.

he agreed he was
a ****** predator.
it's on record.

he said it’s dangerous
for one’s wife to work.
it's on record.

he said he loses his
**** when
dinner isn’t on the table.
it's on record.

he said
he can do whatever
he wants to
women because he
is powerful
and rich.
it's on record.

women who
breastfeed are
disgusting.
it's on record.

he doesn’t like
flat chests
or fat girls
it's on record.

all women
are gold diggers.
it's on record.

he doesn’t like to
give a woman
negotiable assets.
it's on record.

dogs,
pigs,
it's on record.

he wants to
repeal roe v wade.
it's on record.

he bragged about
walking into
beauty pageant
dressing rooms
full of naked
teenage girls.
it's on record.

hmph. it’s so hard to
figure this out.

(if i could roll my eyes
any harder they would
pop right out
of my head).

these aren't even
ALL THE THINGS.
straight from
the man's own
godforsaken mouth, unedited!
not opinions.
facts.

-

although his campaign
has received millions
of dollars in free
advertising,
and his entire
life is based
upon being in
the media spotlight,

the entire media
is a left wing
conspiracy.


(unless they report
something positive.
then it's not a conspiracy
anymore, then it's true)

side note.
i guess if he wins,
we can expect to see
just a SERIOUS
overhaul of the election
process, you know,
because it's so rigged.
and the whole thing
will be brilliantly
torn down and remade
within 4 years,
and be without
criticism
before it's time
for re-election.
because he wouldn't
want us all to go
ahead and try to vote
for him again in a
rigged election.
he cares about us.

and the media will just
be torn to shreds,
you know, but still free
and everything is
going to be so fair, you guys.
i mean things are going
to be so fair you
are going to get sick of it.
and really,
he's a super sweet guy
if he accepts the
presidency in an
election he
knows
is rigged.
cuz that's what
any upstanding
citizen would do.

-

she is an insider.
(i.e., what some of us like
to refer to as a professional)

he has been
talking about
running for president
since the
1980’s,
but OBVIOUSLY
HE would never
take money
for favors.
HE hasn't been planning this.
HE would never
seek power.
HE would never
politicize things
for his own best
interest.
only politicians
do that, and
he isn't one.
HE is for
the working man.

-

please, tiny, sweet baby jesus
with tiny jesus hands
help me.

-

it’s not hypocritical
at all for
him to constantly
talk about how awful it is
that jobs are
going overseas,
even though he
does THAT EXACT THING
with his own companies.

jesus, guys.
obviously he's just SMART.
(really? is that the word
we want to use? is that the
word we use to describe other
business owners who do
the same thing? uh, no, it's not.
i'm pretty sure they are
compared to criminals,
and labeled unpatriotic.)

because if you
believe something passionately,
like you claim to,
like american goods should
be created and manufactured
in this country,
and you are a billionaire,
with vast resources,
that owns businesses,
employs people in this country,
and you love your country
and all it's people,
and you have a sense of
right and wrong,
you don't cheat.
you don't take advantage.
other businesses do it the right way
why can't you?
that's what IT ******* MEANS
to have principles.

he is an opportunist.
he takes.
see the difference?

-

when she
calls your supporters
a bad, bad thing
(a basket of deplorables?)
she is a
disgusting,
unpresidential,
elitist
***** that
can never
be forgiven.

he would never,
EVER even
think about
calling anyone names.
never ever.
(i seriously don't have
the time in my life
to even attempt to list all
the examples.) although
the new york times
did a pretty decent job.

but you do recognize sarcasm, yes?

-

jesus,
people shouldn’t get
so friggen offended
all the time!
he says.
being
politically correct
is stupid.
it’s better
to be honest, like him.
(except he's not honest)
he just says ALL
THE THINGS
we are ALL thinking
but don't have
the ***** to say.
(um...really? you can
count me out of
that particular
generalization.)

-

he is not weak,
or a coward,
or a liar,
or corrupt,
everyone
else
is.


he would never
get offended
by an snl skit
and cry like a baby
about it,
because that's absurd.

or claim
that literally everything
is unfair,
because that sounds
like a whining child.
(which his wife
compared him to).

-

when someone
accused him of rigging
a pageant,
he sued them.
because "proclaiming
fraud is serious."
the accuser is clearly
just a loser. a bad loser.
(that's what he said).
OBVIOUSLY this
does not apply
when HE
claims elections
are rigged.

also, he doesn’t care
that the GOP Primary
was rigged,
(whoops, did you
forget that was
rigged too?)
because he won.
(yep, he said that too.)

-

i see patterns here.
(i learned about patterns
in kindergarten.)

-

he spends
campaign funds
on his personal
businesses.
(we don't care)

sued
for unpaid taxes,
discrimination,
****** assault,
fraud,
ripping
people off.
(again, we don't care. actually,
all these things are
probably just
further proof of his
very level-headed,
thoughtful, and
superior intellect.)

bankruptcies,
failed businesses,
using charitable donations
to benefit himself,
(while viewed as bad
things for all other
human beings, are
actually strengths of his.
because up is down.
and quite frankly,
we.
don't.
care.)

has sued literally
thousands of times.
(i thought people
who sued all the
time were jerks?)
welp,
not him.

-

when other people
settle lawsuits
that is an
admission of guilt.
(yep, he said that)
(so did his campaign manager)

when he does it
OBVIOUSLY the
opposite is true.

and he's done it MANY times.

-

he mocked someone
with a disability.
it's on record.

-

he mocked someone
who is deaf.
it's on record.

-

he has made
disparaging remarks
about the military.
it's on record.

he incites and
encourages
violence.
again, on record.

i'm gonna go ahead and say,
not so much
into the brown people?
or the gay people.
or the woman people?
or the poor people.
or the fat people.
or the refugee people.
or the science people.
or military people.
or government people.
or journalist people
oh yeah, or education people.
or people that disagree with him.
or stupid people who pay their taxes.

but like, totally into
everyone else,
like
white, male people.
that agree with him.
that are into violence.
and are rich.
and cheat the system.

he maybe sorta kinda
(ok, just flat out said it)
hinted at using the
second amendment
to **** his opponent.
on record.
god, you guys, seriously,
learn to take a joke.
because murdering your
political opponent is super funny.
i mean, it's fun, right?
it's especially funny in those
other countries. and for the murdered people.
it's not like kids are listening.
or like there are any crazy card carrying
white *** people
that think that might be a good idea.
gosh, get a grip.

said he could
shoot someone
in broad daylight and
wouldn't lose votes.
for realz? yes, for realz!

having one standard
for yourself
and the opposite standard
for everyone else
is dare i say,
the very definition of
i n e q u a l i t y.

if you think
you are
superior,
then just say so.
own that ****.

if you desire violence,
proclaim it.

if you desire inequality,
then shout it
from the rooftops.

if you think one
group should get richer
while others get poorer,
say it. support it.

if you think
women have no
value other
than the size
of their *******
and their *****,
by all means,
let us know!

because that's what he would do.
that's what he does.

don't hide behind
this excuse
of a man.

don't paint
yourself a
patriot,

regurgitate
outright lies
without doing
any research,

and don't think you
speak for
all of us.

because you don't.

pretending something is real
does not make it real.

i’m getting
tired of this.

hypocrisy
is gross.
oh, i'll just keep updating this ****, you can count on that.
just for funzies: https://www.facebook.com/OccupyDemocrats/videos/1206887309404321/
JJ Hutton Aug 2011
pullplug and silence,
pullplug and sentence
fall from skyscraper woman --
another arrogant 12-story --
I, an edgy wrecking ball,
pullplug and dine,
pullplug and I'm divinely
base jumping to remind
I'm not ****** but old,
I'm not conniving but bored,
pullplug for ritual of ice,
pullplug for relation of stone,
sprawled in an empty bed,
while you talk in wasp nests,
I'm happy alone --
and made a worthwhile point--
identical towers are
terrible together.
Adrianna Davis Oct 2012
You come into my life
Again
Unannounced
Random
Unwanted
After I have finally begun to heal

And you open the wound back up
Tearing
Pulling
Prying
Hurting me as you go
Not a word spoken

Just the sight of you leaves me feeling scared
Horrified
More than just a little paranoid.

What if you try to hurt me again?
You frighten me
Make me sick
Nauseous
The rank smell
The vile taste
Of *****
Making my insides cringe

You used to be there
In the innermost part of me
Physically, mentally, emotionally
You had every part of me.

It’s your fault.  You, who claims he knows nothing of what he did.
“I swear, I never meant to hurt you, I’m sorry.”
*******!
You aren’t sorry.  You know what you did. How could you not?  

You know you nearly killed me with your words
That flow from your mouth
Uncontrollable
Like a raging river of lies and deceit
Untrustworthy is what you are

Is what you mean to me
Nothing.
Absolutely nothing. Not even a stranger. For I would treat
a stranger better than you.
An animal better than you
A pile of feces better than you

You are the lowest of the low
You ask me to be your “friend”

No.  you don’t know the meaning of the word
How dare you try to corrupt that blessed status
You selfish, evil, conniving, *******.

You can burn in Hell. In the deepest darkest parts where brimstone is so strong it engulfs you in a whirlwind of unpleasurable, rank, decaying, vile smells and tastes.
That is where you belong.
That is where you will stay
In the blacked out part of my memory, where I wish we had never happened

And I hope on day you will realize what you did
And die.
Your blatant onyx stare transfixes me
Plunged into a deep dichotomies of guilt and persecution
Naked under your primordial gaze
Liberation pulses to my core

The passion floating in your eyes is more then have the drones I know
The tendrils of your long grandmother feet
Wrinkles dictating the violence you consumed  
As you lay collapsed between holes in fences

The grip on my notebook tightens til its painful
Our staring contest has turned deadly
Meanwhile the one in the next cage is creating a disturbance
Tracing circles with his finger tips as he swings
His tale attached to the conical world vision  

You are not like him
your toenails turn black as a tarnished weapon
Maybe it is you that has adapted
My eyes look vacant in your reflection Of shock and conniving references

Your movements contort logic
Teleportation from within
The steps would break me into fractures
So  ill-suited to this wild world for which you were born
Since the womb
I've been doomed
but I was taught to survive
and build, supreme mathematics
really opened my eyes
to read in between the lines
and uncover the lies
televised
in front of our eyes
we the people die
while the royal blood thrives
ordering our children to drop bombs from the sky
and making it a crime for it's citizens to ask why?
Targeting young minds on the sly
they're So conniving,
depriving just enough
it's like we're dying
yet we're surviving,
no apologies if I'm overemphasizing
but you see
I'm reviving an Uprising
between my left and right quadrant
disguising my inner knowledge
like a Colonel dressed as a Sergeant.  
© 2013

— The End —