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"constituency" poems
Do dust bunnies have consciousness? Does instinct guide them? Instructing their best chance of survival Is to hunker down, Go out of sight, Hide under a piece of furniture? Will they survive & thrive in Dust Land, Dust Land Planet Earth Where cat hair is “A sizeable constituency,” So would say some latter day Machiavel’. When spring comes, at last, Will the minority Party The Politburo in absentia, Pick up on, Comprehend the fact? The red-red boffin Goes beaucoup mnemonic, again. “Wake up, wake up you sleepy head! Get up, get out o' bed! Cheer up! Cheer up! The sun is red. Live, love, laugh and be happy!” The red-red-Redbird comes Hammer & Sickle cell, again.
0
Jun 1, 2014
Jun 1, 2014 at 6:11 PM UTC
“Vibrant Matter Episode 2: The Easter Dust Bunny”
New England is triumphant, as she maintains the historical roots of North America. Rebellions were concocted in order to inform and subdue those who were impressionable. It is unfortunate that truth was concealed by presumed greatness, and that the problem continues. Political agendas prevail in the West in the name of consumerism, and the Great Architect of the Universe continues to unravel the delusion of a seemingly greater design. The obelisk will bow to cosmological establishments, and the flag of unity will no longer be recognised. I will now say goodbye to the President and his constituency.
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Dec 31, 2013
Dec 31, 2013 at 4:10 PM UTC
The Myth of Treason
The darkened corners of forgotten yesterdays clouded the view as the gaping maw of need stared across the chasm at necessity .  Almost as if there was a reason for it’s contiguous constituency it reflected the myriad animations of it’s creator .  Crystalline forms in infinite diversity beyond the subjective sublimations of mass crowded the integral forms of it’s subjugated spontaneities perversions as the well of it’s unity sang of the cause for it’s being . The single-mindedness of it’s recumbent beginnings were all but lost to the ramifications of itself as the children of it’s repulsion waxed and waned .   The twinkling of an eye , the integration of ages , countless extrapolations of it’s *********** vanished into the nature of their being as the tainted refuse of their wanton progressions began their mutual processions back to the source , or wandered through the surrealistic ethereum of their eternally predestined nothingness . Causalities purity reigned as all became the reason for it’s own creation , and vanished into the implosion of it’s own ***********
0
Jan 22, 2013
Jan 22, 2013 at 3:54 AM UTC
The Vanishing Point
What putrefaction oozes up from hell To poison aquifers of decency And common sense? The crops of reason smell And do not nourish the constituency. What polar vortex drops from unknown heights To freeze the congregations of the heart? The steeples topple, enmity ignites And malice rips tranquility apart. The times devolve. Security and peace, Once real estate on which a home could rise, Shrugs off its immigrants, revokes its lease And shows indifference to human cries. A Lucifer of arrogant display Has come to sweep benevolence away.
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Apr 18, 2016
Apr 18, 2016 at 4:46 PM UTC
Demise: A Warning
The conservative element in DC Has something else as priority. It sure is not you, nor is it me. It’s a much more powerful constituency: Those who pull strings do not care Unless you are a multi-millionaire And contribute to their greedy cause Like some kind of Santa Claus. They keep on doing what they’re doing ******** who they were ******** I would explain it all if I could But sometimes words do no good. Behind all the gobbledy **** Someone is not playing by the book. Winning with lies is what they are trying To make the true facts look like lying. They keep you so confused that you You believe what they want you to, So you won’t see behind their wiles To bring their larcenous ***** to trial. Dignifying public rumors of buggery You look away from skullduggery. A few insignificant happenstances Eclipse treasonous circumstances. You ***** about gays and abortion While conservatives commit extortion And persecution in Jesus’ name. To them it’s all a ratings game. If you don’t care what people feel You lose all track of what is real. You turn into a tool for deception; A dupe of sleight-of-hand misdirection. As long as things are as they are We’ll get run over by the clown car Which is the Congress currently seated. And as long as they remain undefeated The rules will leave the deck stacked. Nobody in DC will have our backs. Why should they care about our whim When the way it is benefits them? We need one item, one bill rules Or we end up the same beaten fools. We need campaign funding to be equal Or each election becomes a sequel To what happened with Gore and Bush When backdoor politics bit us in the **** The only way change will ever come around Is to take the loopholes from these clowns.
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Dec 11, 2015
Dec 11, 2015 at 11:07 PM UTC
SURREALISTIC CIRCUS
The conservative element in DC Has something else as priority. It sure is not you, nor is it me. It’s a much more powerful constituency: Those who pull strings do not care Unless you are a multi-millionaire And contribute to their greedy cause Like some kind of Santa Claus. They keep on doing what they’re doing ******** who they were ******** I would explain it all if I could But sometimes words do no good. Behind all the gobbledy **** Someone is not playing by the book. Winning with lies is what they are trying To make the true facts look like lying. They keep you so confused that you You believe what they want you to, So you won’t see behind their wiles To bring their larcenous ***** to trial. Dignifying public rumors of buggery You look away from skullduggery. A few insignificant happenstances Eclipse treasonous circumstances. You ***** about gays and abortion While conservatives commit extortion And persecution in Jesus’ name. To them it’s all a ratings game. If you don’t care what people feel You lose all track of what is real. You turn into a tool for deception; A dupe of sleight-of-hand misdirection. As long as things are as they are We’ll get run over by the clown car Which is the Congress currently seated. And as long as they remain undefeated The rules will leave the deck stacked. Nobody in DC will have our backs. Why should they care about our whim When the way it is benefits them? We need one item, one bill rules Or we end up the same beaten fools. We need campaign funding to be equal Or each election becomes a sequel To what happened with Gore and Bush When backdoor politics bit us in the **** The only way change will ever come around Is to take the loopholes from these clowns.
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48
Care to elaborate? There are so many. Colin Kaepernick, e.g., Trying so hard to work the African-American community-- A useful constituency--to wit: Barack Obama, no stranger to ******** Then there's Donald Trump: Like Andy Dufresne who "crawled Through a river of **** he expects to Come out "Clean on the other side." And lest we forget: Hilary. Mrs. Clinton uses ******** like magic. She's Cruella Deville disguised as Glinda the Good Witch in Oz. Just ask Bill.
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Sep 26, 2016
Sep 26, 2016 at 11:53 PM UTC
"BS"
The world in unison The world as one Hearts sink at sight Of the setting sun The world in unison The world as friends As if one constituency To each other we tend All hearts in unison In grief and sorrow Knowing that some Are bereft of Life's tomorrow All hands in unison To steep in prayer Devoting homilies Filled with perfect care All life in harmony Will find it's way This song is for Albion And the warrior spirits there
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Mar 2, 2017
Mar 2, 2017 at 8:49 AM UTC
For Albion
the political debate has become rather base female and male politicians hurling plenty of mace around the place the opposition leader's uncalled for tirades tearing the Prime Minister down and she in turn taking a few swipes at his crown gender politics is playing in Parliament House these days and little of it makes for a respectful array a cessation isn't on the horizon in Canberra town and the behavior of our politicians is getting the constituency down politicians of eras past would be most discomforted by the present debating cast
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Mar 12, 2013
Mar 12, 2013 at 5:58 PM UTC
Debate (Political Poem)
I can't eat this mother the pearl barley has the constituency of snot Ok beat me around the head again, give me another but I swear from ever on..... no more stew mother From those days those dumpling filled days the ******** chasing me over hills and valleys in nightmares No I will not put that in my mouth ever if my life depended on it I tell you what you can do with your stew give it to another, no more stew mother By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
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Feb 3, 2014
Feb 3, 2014 at 1:27 PM UTC
No More Stew Mother
Two thoughts come to mind this morning. The deficiencies in       our systems of governance - local, global - and the first two pages of The End of Faith in which he       mistakes political (acts of war) for religious acts, but recognizes understanding the workings of the world is not       the same as knowing the unknowable. Every new twinge provokes fear but what is there to fear?       That one won't live forever? The year of a man is the day of an inchworm and 267 years       on a reverse- rotating Venus. A billion of anything is a lot unless it's the distance one must       traverse to look at God. How much silence, or tinnitus, can you handle? A chipmunk       cannot for long stand still. Once the twinge passes I'm off to the next task: building a       constituency for this compassion, that solution. The dialogue starts with a question. To know the question is       almost certainly to find an answer. Conflating questions is the commonest of logic errors. No       negotiation unless the violence ends. Why not talk while we fight? We can always **** torture or       assassinate between conversations. Justice, or retribution if you want, can remain on the table       even after we achieve understanding. Nature is my religion, I know no other, and community is my       church. The sacrament is policy debate. I attend church everyday. Our jobs are       hymns (the classifieds a hymnal) and payment for services rendered is sung praise and       gratitude. Walking and talking is prayer. Strategies to limit or subvert discussion are the only evil.       Violence is one but not by far the only one. What's the hurry to build a       highway or free a people? The secret of life is enjoying the passage of time and time is       the mercy of eternity.
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Aug 10, 2015
Aug 10, 2015 at 9:20 AM UTC
The End of Faith
Two thoughts come to mind this morning. The deficiencies in       our systems of governance - local, global - and the first two pages of The End of Faith in which he       mistakes political (acts of war) for religious acts, but recognizes understanding the workings of the world is not       the same as knowing the unknowable. Every new twinge provokes fear but what is there to fear?       That one won't live forever? The year of a man is the day of an inchworm and 267 years       on a reverse- rotating Venus. A billion of anything is a lot unless it's the distance one must       traverse to look at God. How much silence, or tinnitus, can you handle? A chipmunk       cannot for long stand still. Once the twinge passes I'm off to the next task: building a       constituency for this compassion, that solution. The dialogue starts with a question. To know the question is       almost certainly to find an answer. Conflating questions is the commonest of logic errors. No       negotiation unless the violence ends. Why not talk while we fight? We can always **** torture or       assassinate between conversations. Justice, or retribution if you want, can remain on the table       even after we achieve understanding. Nature is my religion, I know no other, and community is my       church. The sacrament is policy debate. I attend church everyday. Our jobs are       hymns (the classifieds a hymnal) and payment for services rendered is sung praise and       gratitude. Walking and talking is prayer. Strategies to limit or subvert discussion are the only evil.       Violence is one but not by far the only one. What's the hurry to build a       highway or free a people? The secret of life is enjoying the passage of time and time is       the mercy of eternity.
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JO *** MP A loving mother with life and soul A  bright young woman of her time A caring woman who topped the poll Has been cut down in her prime A vicious ****** callous and cruel A local man now held by police A  man with no compassion at all Dear Jo *** now rest in peace. Labour Member of Parliament for Birstall, Jo *** 41, was murdered in her constituency on June 16, 2016
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Jun 18, 2016
Jun 18, 2016 at 4:44 PM UTC
JO *** MP
WOE HAS IMMIGRATION BECOME TOPIC OF LATE. REPUBLICANS ARGUE DUE PROCESS BUT LEAVE DRUGS FROM DEBATE. CONGRESS CONSTITUENCY PREDICTING THEIR FATE. CARTELS GIVEN POWER BY AMERICAN DOLLAR. KEEPERS ASLEEP AT GATE. IN RECESSION YET NO DISCRETION BUYING ALL WITHOUT PRICE A QUESTION. TAKE OFF THE TOP CARTEL PROCEEDS NOW IMMIGRANTS FLEE AND YOU QUESTION THEIR NEEDS. VOTE TO SEND BACK TO HELL BUT WANT OBAMA FOR SHOW AND TELL? JUST TO SEE LIVES DAMAGED BY YOUR GREED. SAY YOU WANT LEAD BUT NEVER TAKE HEED. GUESS HIGH YELLOW IS STILL BLACK INDEED! VETO EVERYTHING AND IF COULD WHEN SLAVES FREED. HOW DID LIBERTY BECOME HIGH SCHOOL GANG ASSEMBLY? NOT EVEN LOOKING AT COMMON SENSE! YOU JUST BANG AGAINST HE. BACK AND FOURTH PETTY BICKER FROM MEN WITH DEGREES COSTING SIX FIGURES. WHAT YOU REALLY FEAR IS NOT OBAMA! YOU SEE IMMIGRANTS AS BROWN ******* - KING MELCHIZEDEK.
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Jul 12, 2014
Jul 12, 2014 at 10:33 AM UTC
SHOW AND TELL
Objectified manifest's dimensional delineations are totally tangential to trajectory extant.  Infinite possibility's exponentially extemporaneous eidetic prospectus perpetrates incorporeity ideology's perfectible ontology.  It's sheer omnificent ubiquity.   Manumission's vicarious recalcitrance to epistemological entelechy's maieutic had an exogamous homogeny with spatiotemporal telemetry's exigence.  The basic fecundity of cosmic continuum's radix repartee's mesomerism becomes corporeally preternatural's impetus intrigue to intuitional intrepid.          Livid lucid lambent loquacious emanations that presage synergy's retrospectively retroactive to nuance fulgurous fulham's fulcrum.  Cognizance categorical imperative's cognitive, clairaudience clairvoyance, omniscient omnipotent omnipresence.  Unary's unbridled aorist actuator's ethology's entelechy.  Zoomorphic zoolatry's social contiguities to demagoguery.  Hegira to Xanadu ne plus ultra exodus.  Elan Vital's apotheosis.  Hectic duty deontological probity.  Noumenal sentience's irrefragably inevitable semantics.  Pandemically phatic futurity fatidic to kitsch kithe.  Chicanery dynamism's fealty!  I'm sorry Melan but I don't believe that we must lose track of our corporeal being's identity to experience the true essence of love.  We should enhance each other's  cognizance constituency.
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Jun 1, 2024
Jun 1, 2024 at 9:36 AM UTC
Omnific Transeunt
Her love was sure and fathoms deep Warming everybody it embraced Her heart was strong and steeped in kindness Curves of compassion etched on her face Imagining she could build a better world She took to the challenge with zeal and zest Incredible, she inspired by example Never giving less than her best An ambassador for altruism She represented all persons As if the world was one constituency Because with division things just worsen But one fateful day she was taken The mourners in thousands like herds Thinking she’d be silenced her killer was mistaken The whole world got to hear her words What marvels she would have achieved We are destined to never know But her accomplishments will never end If we all pledge to love like Jo
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Nov 23, 2016
Nov 23, 2016 at 9:40 PM UTC
Love Like Jo
Thinking more of your constituency   than they do of themselves…     —political suicide (Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2018)
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Jul 21, 2018
Jul 21, 2018 at 2:38 PM UTC
Self-Destruction
in September we're having an election us voters are desirous of a new policy direction the present governments spending has gone over the top we the constituency want it all to stop when we fill out our ballot papers at the polls we'll put the other party into a governing role the nations economy will do very well under their leadership for they are the party with a good financial grip the balance of payments wont look so sickly in the capable hands of the other party for five years we've had a reckless mob in charge of the accounts we are not well pleased with their deficit amounts the treasury notes must be locked down for a while so the nation can build a sizable stockpile our present government have whittled away our wealth that's why we're not in the best of budgetary health bringing the books back to the black will be a good thing for our nation down the track the voters chance to end the bad fiscal management comes in September and we'll give the mob that is in power a send off they'll remember
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Apr 24, 2013
Apr 24, 2013 at 6:16 AM UTC
September Election
victimized by happenstance the moral majority leans crumbling faded pages fall disjointed the bible has slipped to light bathroom reading and those betrothed to Jesus cry themselves to sleep – wringing clasped hands and looking skyward for answers they watch in helpless dismay as true equality and individual freedoms crushingly stomp values based on 2000 year old desert stories the dried tears turn into salty anger and systemic hate based in fear – gays proudly wed in churches once maligned for witch burning taking turns carrying each other over middle-class thresholds adopting impoverished babies and the unwanted immigrant children only to be blasted on mass media for their ****** and unholy lifestyle it seems to me American Christians have lost sight of the work Jesus actually did – Avidly reading and researching the world’s religions seeking eternally for the reasons some semblance of an answer as to why gods of love would instill so much hate and fear in their constituency… their flocks …….. those blind to reality and subject to irrationality because someone once told them this book is the only way and without it salvation and peace are bad jokes –
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Dec 11, 2015
Dec 11, 2015 at 3:02 PM UTC
broken bibles
A soft, northern wind brushes the bristles of my skin, runs the surfaces of my faces, and steadily chills the bones that lie within. It flows around the contours of thought that bubble and break the surface of motion, of time. In this dream state, patches of warmth and wet, sunlight and oceans green rise and fall with the breath of my aging body. Empty and desolate, the eyes of a lover can be... cruel and merciless as death it, weighs upon the arms like a politician's troubling words to his constituency. Truth is hard to bear when it is birthed twin, with contempt and sin. The dead lie and the living hide. But each does what the other is purposed to achieve. So if they each do what the other must, what are they really? Something else entirely, yet one and the same. Only the waves of song, crashing against the drums of my psyche, beating me to a calm submission can alleviate the pain of loss. The pain of want is something that, when destroyed, grows anew, strong, and more violent. Until satisfied with fire and soapstone, washed away without a moment's notice, the breaking heart will continue to beat for no one can stop passion. For a moment, love is all that gleans in the rays of life. All these, and all around, slow down to a halt. The end is when you decide, none of it provides happiness. The end is when you decide, nothing in life, is worth the blood that was spilt to keep it. So I wander in a world that makes no sense to the lover unknown, grasping for the essence of something real in the distance. Something I cannot see.
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Jul 28, 2016
Jul 28, 2016 at 6:14 PM UTC
A Spectrum of Jaded Dreams
A soft, northern wind brushes the bristles of my skin, runs the surfaces of my faces, and steadily chills the bones that lie within. It flows around the contours of thought that bubble and break the surface of motion, of time. In this dream state, patches of warmth and wet, sunlight and oceans green rise and fall with the breath of my aging body. Empty and desolate, the eyes of a lover can be... cruel and merciless as death it, weighs upon the arms like a politician's troubling words to his constituency. Truth is hard to bear when it is birthed twin, with contempt and sin. The dead lie and the living hide. But each does what the other is purposed to achieve. So if they each do what the other must, what are they really? Something else entirely, yet one and the same. Only the waves of song, crashing against the drums of my psyche, beating me to a calm submission can alleviate the pain of loss. The pain of want is something that, when destroyed, grows anew, strong, and more violent. Until satisfied with fire and soapstone, washed away without a moment's notice, the breaking heart will continue to beat for no one can stop passion. For a moment, love is all that gleans in the rays of life. All these, and all around, slow down to a halt. The end is when you decide, none of it provides happiness. The end is when you decide, nothing in life, is worth the blood that was spilt to keep it. So I wander in a world that makes no sense to the lover unknown, grasping for the essence of something real in the distance. Something I cannot see.
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15
To the divine spark in you, I steep my hands and bow, Blessed fires run through you, And give you magic glow, All souls unite in divinity, Unsullied by the world, Mercy, pity, peace, a trinity, In which affection swirled, The world is one constituency, Love knows no church or nation, But Evil in his regency, Demands that care have ration, But love wins, it conquers all, With tyranny it multiples, Our world cannot fail to be touched, By hearts so strong and of our size, Mouths will open, hearts will see, We will speak, we will be free, Living one, at unity, Embed in Earth's community.
0
Apr 20, 2017
Apr 20, 2017 at 7:20 AM UTC
Namaste
The darkened corners of forgotten yesterdays clouded the view as the gaping maw of need stared across the chasm at necessity .  Almost as if there was a reason for its contiguous constituency it reflected the myriad animations of its creator .  Crystalline forms in infinite diversity beyond the subjective sublimations of mass crowded the integral forms of its subjugated spontaneities perversions as the well of its unity sang of the cause for its being . The single-mindedness of its recumbent beginnings were all but lost to the ramifications of itself as the children of its repulsion waxed and waned .   The twinkling of an eye , the integration of ages , countless extrapolations of its *********** vanished into the nature of their being as the tainted refuse of their wanton progressions began their mutual processions back to the source , or wandered through the surrealistic ethereum of their eternally predestined nothingness . Causalities purity reigned as all became the reason for its own creation , and vanished into the implosion of its own ***********
0
Nov 24, 2021
Nov 24, 2021 at 3:27 PM UTC
The Vanishing Point