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"constitutional" poems
Enigma entity’s ethology entelechy as it relates to clairaudience clairvoyance. Everyone has a personal futurity fatidic or existential metaphysique. What we need is a universally acceptable form of id conclusion. Unfortunately we can’t even agree on the social stigmatisms of ego’s expression. We are relatively extraneous interpolations of adhesively practical extremity that succeed in a hierarchy of functionally integrateable forms. There is no functional deontology, even though its visage would seem to portend cogently fecund probity for all. We are not ethereally sublime, we are corporeally preternatural. Objective is individual; obligation to each other is not a mandate. Though many might find it inherently indispensible to some it impedes success. The depths of debauchery this debacle ensues are almost intrinsically endemic to our race. How am I going to get there becomes more important than ‘what are we fighting for’. So, if there’s no unity of purpose how do we decide who we are fighting for. Will it be good for all or lead to oligarchy and subjugation, the seemingly inescapable byproduct of capitalism, the inherent decadence of socialism. It’s times like this that make me love the constitutional fortitude of Americanism. Theoretically I have an inalienable right, hypothetically this leads to anarchy so I’m not allowed to mess with your rights. This is mandate. The republic for which we stand. Mendacious tales of unity, not merely the obstinate tenacities of I, but also the cogent fecundity in the infamous we-ness of us.
0
Sep 12, 2018
Sep 12, 2018 at 6:04 PM UTC
Mercenary Mendacity
Enigma entity’s ethology entelechy as it relates to clairaudience clairvoyance. Everyone has a personal futurity fatidic or existential metaphysique. What we need is a universally acceptable form of id conclusion. Unfortunately we can’t even agree on the social stigmatisms of ego’s expression. We are relatively extraneous interpolations of adhesively practical extremity that succeed in a hierarchy of functionally integrateable forms. There is no functional deontology, even though its visage would seem to portend cogently fecund probity for all. We are not ethereally sublime, we are corporeally preternatural. Objective is individual; obligation to each other is not a mandate. Though many might find it inherently indispensible to some it impedes success. The depths of debauchery this debacle ensues are almost intrinsically endemic to our race. How am I going to get there becomes more important than ‘what are we fighting for’. So, if there’s no unity of purpose how do we decide who we are fighting for. Will it be good for all or lead to oligarchy and subjugation, the seemingly inescapable byproduct of capitalism, the inherent decadence of socialism. It’s times like this that make me love the constitutional fortitude of Americanism. Theoretically I have an inalienable right, hypothetically this leads to anarchy so I’m not allowed to mess with your rights. This is mandate. The republic for which we stand. Mendacious tales of unity, not merely the obstinate tenacities of I, but also the cogent fecundity in the infamous we-ness of us.
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18
meanwhile, the Big Fat Yellow Bootay was getting right tired of waiting for the election to end. so, she set off down the highway going ninety five... "HOKEEEY POKEEEY!" she cried as she gunned the engine and threw herself in gear. "HOKEEEY POKEEEY!  MOTHER ******* twice she cried, "HOKEEEY POKEEEY!  MOTHER ******* this second time for extra good luck with the unfolding election. cool Fall breeze caressed her yellow metal, her big fat yellow bootay, a glorious day to be out on a drive! well, except where she had come from. beep beep beep beep always driving her beep beep beeping insane! it shore nuf was quiet out this way! she turned the shiny silver dial to turn on the radio. 'gonna have to get me some better speakers one day soon.' she thought to her big fat bus self. and what came out blasting? "That's Alright Mama," by who else? but the King! Elvis! Elvis has left the building and now, Elvis is ON THE BUS! she didn't quite know all of the words, but what the **** she sure could sing! As the big fat bus with the big fat bootay was driving along, singing joyfully, she glanced in the rear view mirrow and what did she see? why the ghost of Elvis himself was sitting right there right in the back of the bus. He starts strumming on his own guitar and singing, 'that's alright mama.." so she turned off the radio to listen to the ghost of the King, Elvis, himself, singing in the back of her big fat yellow bootay! she also watched him eating a lot of food in the back of the bus, her bus. his ghostly figure seemed to fluctuate between fat Elvis, and skinny Elvis, like a seesaw. by and by says he, (not the really fat one but not the really skinny one neither.) 'I need a pit stop.' says the King so the big fat bus, with the big fat yellow bootay, asks, asks she, 'you wanna stop at the next stop & go, or the next fizz & wizz, or my fav if you really need a constitutional, the stop & plop?' at this particular junction in time this ghostly King, was in the shape of Fat Elvis but very cooly outfitted, bellbottoms and rhine stones or were those all diamonds? note to self, the big fat bus squirreled away, check on that. are those real or not? more mulha is always good and this just might be mana from heaven in the form of Elvis the KING himself and maybe just one of those diamonds will fall out and get lost in me.' mighty strange happenings going on around here in this big fat bus with the big fat yellow bootay. ' the stop and plop little mama,' elvis replied with that ohhhh, soooooo, divine Elvis drawl and that darling little thing he did with his mouth, but was doing now as he was sitting there in the back of HER big fat bus with HER big fat yellow bootay! OH MY, it really is a HOKEY POKEY day!  she sighed.....
0
Sep 21, 2015
Sep 21, 2015 at 6:42 PM UTC
Big Fat Yellow Bootay waits for Election Results meets The King
meanwhile, the Big Fat Yellow Bootay was getting right tired of waiting for the election to end. so, she set off down the highway going ninety five... "HOKEEEY POKEEEY!" she cried as she gunned the engine and threw herself in gear. "HOKEEEY POKEEEY!  MOTHER ******* twice she cried, "HOKEEEY POKEEEY!  MOTHER ******* this second time for extra good luck with the unfolding election. cool Fall breeze caressed her yellow metal, her big fat yellow bootay, a glorious day to be out on a drive! well, except where she had come from. beep beep beep beep always driving her beep beep beeping insane! it shore nuf was quiet out this way! she turned the shiny silver dial to turn on the radio. 'gonna have to get me some better speakers one day soon.' she thought to her big fat bus self. and what came out blasting? "That's Alright Mama," by who else? but the King! Elvis! Elvis has left the building and now, Elvis is ON THE BUS! she didn't quite know all of the words, but what the **** she sure could sing! As the big fat bus with the big fat bootay was driving along, singing joyfully, she glanced in the rear view mirrow and what did she see? why the ghost of Elvis himself was sitting right there right in the back of the bus. He starts strumming on his own guitar and singing, 'that's alright mama.." so she turned off the radio to listen to the ghost of the King, Elvis, himself, singing in the back of her big fat yellow bootay! she also watched him eating a lot of food in the back of the bus, her bus. his ghostly figure seemed to fluctuate between fat Elvis, and skinny Elvis, like a seesaw. by and by says he, (not the really fat one but not the really skinny one neither.) 'I need a pit stop.' says the King so the big fat bus, with the big fat yellow bootay, asks, asks she, 'you wanna stop at the next stop & go, or the next fizz & wizz, or my fav if you really need a constitutional, the stop & plop?' at this particular junction in time this ghostly King, was in the shape of Fat Elvis but very cooly outfitted, bellbottoms and rhine stones or were those all diamonds? note to self, the big fat bus squirreled away, check on that. are those real or not? more mulha is always good and this just might be mana from heaven in the form of Elvis the KING himself and maybe just one of those diamonds will fall out and get lost in me.' mighty strange happenings going on around here in this big fat bus with the big fat yellow bootay. ' the stop and plop little mama,' elvis replied with that ohhhh, soooooo, divine Elvis drawl and that darling little thing he did with his mouth, but was doing now as he was sitting there in the back of HER big fat bus with HER big fat yellow bootay! OH MY, it really is a HOKEY POKEY day!  she sighed.....
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138
*Religious discrimination sells, it's all the rage! If a Muslim wants office, we automatically get Suspicious, some pandering to the public's fear, Deny our own constitutional laws and values, And never elect a Muslim whether far or near.*
0
Oct 6, 2015
Oct 6, 2015 at 3:56 PM UTC
"Freedumbs"
We hear so often about our rights. But what rights we have is a priviledge, governed by laws. We the people makes the rules. We the people controls the rules. And sometimes goes to the extreme to keep them too. What's right for one? Isn't totally right for society. Those that feels brave with a gun. Sprout about constitutional rights. And intimidate others by fear. A sign of times, we will never learn. For, as guns can protect you. We aware constantly, they can **** you. And your constitutional rights share the blame. When guidance of common sense isn't used. We let fee based groups dictate the rules. And, they share a percentage of the blame. We hear guns don't **** That people do. Which is complete true. When they use their consitutional rights to do it. All because, we live by the rights to bare arms. Which is a priviledge. Many people fails to see.
0
Dec 18, 2012
Dec 18, 2012 at 8:12 AM UTC
Constitutional Rights
Sadism Against your dogma Felt like a solace Being said that, It's a constitution Humans vail Agreed to their stupid conception Made by Their greatest grandfather Shriveled, i say The gyves Yet they still asking, Where is my rights? And you just sat there, Befriends with silence Behind the coffin ************
0
Sep 19, 2015
Sep 19, 2015 at 3:01 PM UTC
Constitutional **********
In the parched path I have seen the good lizard (one drop of crocodile) meditating. With his green frock-coat of an abbot of the devil, his correct bearing and his stiff collar, he has the sad air of an old professor. Those faded eyes of a broken artist, how they watch the afternoon in dismay! Is this, my friend, your twilight constitutional? Please use your cane, you are very old, Mr. Lizard, and the children of the village may startle you. What are you seeking in the path, my near-sighted philosopher, if the wavering phantasm of the parched afternoon has broken the horizon? Are you seeking the blue alms of the moribund heaven? A penny of a star? Or perhaps you've been reading a volume of Lamartine, and you relish the plasteresque trills of the birds? (You watch the setting sun, and your eyes shine, oh, dragon of the frogs, with a human radiance. Ideas, gondolas without oars, cross the shadowy waters of your burnt-out eyes.) Have you come looking for that lovely lady lizard, green as the wheatfields of May, as the long locks of sleeping pools, who scorned you, and then left you in your field? Oh, sweet idyll, broken among the sweet sedges! But, live! What the devil! I like you. The motto 'I oppose the serpent' triumphs in that grand double chin of a Christian archbishop. Now the sun has dissolved in the cup of the mountains, and the flocks cloud the roadway. It is the hour to depart: leave the dry path and your meditations. You will have time to look at the stars when the worms are eating you at their leisure. Go home to your house by the village, of the crickets! Good night, my friend Mr. Lizard! Now the field is empty, the mountains dim, the roadway deserted. Only, now and again, a cuckoo sings in the darkness of the poplar trees.
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5.1k
The Old Lizard
In the parched path I have seen the good lizard (one drop of crocodile) meditating. With his green frock-coat of an abbot of the devil, his correct bearing and his stiff collar, he has the sad air of an old professor. Those faded eyes of a broken artist, how they watch the afternoon in dismay! Is this, my friend, your twilight constitutional? Please use your cane, you are very old, Mr. Lizard, and the children of the village may startle you. What are you seeking in the path, my near-sighted philosopher, if the wavering phantasm of the parched afternoon has broken the horizon? Are you seeking the blue alms of the moribund heaven? A penny of a star? Or perhaps you've been reading a volume of Lamartine, and you relish the plasteresque trills of the birds? (You watch the setting sun, and your eyes shine, oh, dragon of the frogs, with a human radiance. Ideas, gondolas without oars, cross the shadowy waters of your burnt-out eyes.) Have you come looking for that lovely lady lizard, green as the wheatfields of May, as the long locks of sleeping pools, who scorned you, and then left you in your field? Oh, sweet idyll, broken among the sweet sedges! But, live! What the devil! I like you. The motto 'I oppose the serpent' triumphs in that grand double chin of a Christian archbishop. Now the sun has dissolved in the cup of the mountains, and the flocks cloud the roadway. It is the hour to depart: leave the dry path and your meditations. You will have time to look at the stars when the worms are eating you at their leisure. Go home to your house by the village, of the crickets! Good night, my friend Mr. Lizard! Now the field is empty, the mountains dim, the roadway deserted. Only, now and again, a cuckoo sings in the darkness of the poplar trees.
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78
Morsi stands among his people as an expression of Egypt's democratic will democratically elected his feet are rooted in the constitutional right to rule Morsi has one foot on a pillar of secular democracy promising to uphold Egypt's journey to an egalitarian future this pillar advances the republican ideal that safeguards diversity and a people's liberty to express free will this pillar brought him to office and justifies his right to rule ironically it’s also a pillar that Morsi's guiding philosphy find impossible to suffer Morsi's other foot is firmly planted on a pillar of Sharia sympathies upholding the divine foundation of his rule over this earthly principality Muslim Brotherhood’s cardinal principles undermine the pillar of secular precepts that equally enfranchise all citizens Sharia Laws allows no standing to equal rights of women, religious minorities, LGBT civil liberties and advocates suppression of atheistic and progressive political groups this has riled the democratic sympathies of the Egyptian people Morsi's actions threaten to tip the pillar of secular democracy back into the Nile’s murky waters Morsi's stance is precarious and as his feet slip he realizes he is not the Colossus of Rhodes he believed himself to be discovering it impossible to bestride the pillars supporting incompatible structures the generals have declared a road map for stability that rescinds the constitution, dissolves the parliament and places the military as sole protectorate of the nation is the preservation of a democratic republic more important than the return to the rule of a military junta?   is it more wise to place principles before personalities? Morsi’s next steps are uncertain The pathway of the people’s democratic journey remains unclear the sound of the military’s marching boots grow louder Music Selection: Sweet Honey on the Rock Marching Off to Freedom Land Oakland 070313 jbm
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Jul 3, 2013
Jul 3, 2013 at 11:08 AM UTC
Morsi's Feet
Morsi stands among his people as an expression of Egypt's democratic will democratically elected his feet are rooted in the constitutional right to rule Morsi has one foot on a pillar of secular democracy promising to uphold Egypt's journey to an egalitarian future this pillar advances the republican ideal that safeguards diversity and a people's liberty to express free will this pillar brought him to office and justifies his right to rule ironically it’s also a pillar that Morsi's guiding philosphy find impossible to suffer Morsi's other foot is firmly planted on a pillar of Sharia sympathies upholding the divine foundation of his rule over this earthly principality Muslim Brotherhood’s cardinal principles undermine the pillar of secular precepts that equally enfranchise all citizens Sharia Laws allows no standing to equal rights of women, religious minorities, LGBT civil liberties and advocates suppression of atheistic and progressive political groups this has riled the democratic sympathies of the Egyptian people Morsi's actions threaten to tip the pillar of secular democracy back into the Nile’s murky waters Morsi's stance is precarious and as his feet slip he realizes he is not the Colossus of Rhodes he believed himself to be discovering it impossible to bestride the pillars supporting incompatible structures the generals have declared a road map for stability that rescinds the constitution, dissolves the parliament and places the military as sole protectorate of the nation is the preservation of a democratic republic more important than the return to the rule of a military junta?   is it more wise to place principles before personalities? Morsi’s next steps are uncertain The pathway of the people’s democratic journey remains unclear the sound of the military’s marching boots grow louder Music Selection: Sweet Honey on the Rock Marching Off to Freedom Land Oakland 070313 jbm
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83
Umbrage ultraism infrangible extemporaneous incognito edition Penumbral platitude platonic proxy photics rendition Interface fenestration imbroglio pandemonium inducement sedition Wretched infelicitous extant trajectory sordid intuition Scandalous scavenger squalid anomalous punitive condition Panacea chiaroscuro parallax emanate imminent perdition Equilibrist revision exertion suborn temerity imbues Indulgent zealous discrepancy apparentness cogitation accrues Heuristic noumenal psychokinesis extrapolation incursion construes Aura auspicious primitive prism processional reviews Obstinate tenacious preeminent edificatory omnipotence eschews Equivocal gumption ratification constitutional manumission ensues      Delusory apparition extravagance peccavi verity tempestuous Obtrusive obtusely overt indemnities sagaciously obliquitous Ephemeral anxiety antonym existential exigency alacritous Fortuitous emendation phantasm ontological ontogeny acuitous Indemnify veracious infernal infidel impunities iniquitous Meritorious fulham presumptive extrication expiation indigenous
0
Jan 13, 2013
Jan 13, 2013 at 9:20 PM UTC
Anonymity emanations
Dad didn't want a coffin. "Cremate my last remains," And so we did. Cool and dry, His ashes, urned, Lie beneath the sod And prairie sky Waiting some clarion call, Some trill of hope, Bright, re-constitutional, Faith-affirming. Mother's wishes rise before us: No crematory, No embalmer. Just her blanket, Just a hole Dug beside our Dad. The law would let her wish be true, But her children won't. We're searching coffin plans. Reverently grim, Lovingly deferential, Dutifully rebellious, Solemn this journey be. Pine boards to honor her thrift But smooth and tight, Rope handles, fitted lid, Perhaps a little trim, Perhaps a sheaf of wheat carved For the old farmer she was. We'll bury her, Wrapped in her blanket, Tucked securely in pine Beside my father's ashes. Like a grain of wheat she'll lie Silent in her final say Inside our final say Waiting Resurrection Day.
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Aug 5, 2018
Aug 5, 2018 at 6:11 PM UTC
Coffin Building
Mercies at  juxtapositional refinement Abandoned constitutional confinement Handshakes on the bridged ligaments The sweet melodious serene dreams fleets One after the other like peculiar inventions The mellow scenes of frames realignments Wonderful crafted words verses paradigm Harmonic jazz awesomeness, decode freeness Orchestral spontaneity drills pragmatic energy Yet, as the gingered steams rise from the hot brew The scented breeze of life vaticinates with a smile afar Whispers of "no obligation, no expectations" reverbs..... on and on....on and on
0
Feb 25, 2016
Feb 25, 2016 at 6:54 AM UTC
Juxtapositional Refinement
Constitutional Morning constitutional What does it have to do With the Supreme Court? If it's been a few days While siting reading the news It's a great ruling coming down Vacating the lower courts ruling And wiping the slate clean Is a release to enjoy I'll start my day Flush with success Copyright 2016 Richard L Ratliff
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Sep 9, 2016
Sep 9, 2016 at 7:25 PM UTC
Constitutional
Our government wrote a constitution to prevent violation of individual rights Separation of church and state was included in the constitutional rights We must look at why this was so important to the founders of this nation In England the King wanted a divorce, the Pope refused to grant this The King then took over the Religion for the country appointing himself leader Our forefathers did not want the same type of control to happen in this country At the time our schools had few books. Everybody had a bible though So the primary reader for our early school system was the bible The Judicial System has done the very thing that the founders tried to prevent. We cannot teach our children the most basic rules of life, the Ten Commandments Perhaps if we taught from the bible, we would have fewer problems in this country.
0
May 8, 2015
May 8, 2015 at 1:29 PM UTC
Constitutional Rights or Wrongs?
You say it's a 'right.' You say it's  allowed to have these- These killing machines. Things are different now. We don't need this, for things have changed. You just won't give up, huh? Is it a pride thing? Does it make you feel powerful? Important? Knowing that the lives of everyone around you, Cower in the palm of your hand? And with the simple jolt of a hand, 20 innocent children are dead. You wouldn't dare say he had the 'right,' Would you?
0
Dec 15, 2012
Dec 15, 2012 at 1:29 AM UTC
Constitutional Rights
fortunate dreams, folded within security and affluence a laundry pile of capital you’ve tried and succeeded prosperity, wealth, Constitutional rights in abundance American dreams lay thriving, slithering between your fingers like sludge nice sludge though snow crystals rest upon the sludge, decorating it for the holidays barren attempts to take hold of opportunities, you didn’t really try efforts lay unmade, like the bed he shared with you penniless inferior in the corner of the kitchen last night’s events crawling across the tile towards you running over stains and chips, creating unshaped perfect squares a city on fire; flames stumbling in the breezes
0
Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 9:11 PM UTC
(not really sure where I'm going with this one, thoughts?)
Enigma entity’s ethology entelechy as it relates to clairaudience clairvoyance Everyone has a personal futurity fatidic or existential metaphysique What we need is a universally acceptable form of id conclusion Unfortunately we can’t even agree on the social stigmatisms of ego’s expression We are relatively extraneous interpolations of adhesively practical extremity that succeed in a hierarchy of functionally integrateable forms There is no functional deontology, even though its visage would seem to portend cogently fecund probity for all We are not ethereally sublime, we are corporeally preternatural Objective is individual; obligation to each other is not a mandate Though many might find it inherently indispensible to some it impedes success The depths of debauchery this debacle ensues are almost intrinsically endemic to our race How am I going to get there becomes more important than ‘what are we fighting for’ So, if there’s no unity of purpose how do we decide who we are fighting for Will it be good for all or lead to oligarchy and subjugation, the seemingly inescapable byproduct of capitalism, the inherent decadence of socialism It’s times like this that make me love the constitutional fortitude of Americanism Theoretically I have an inalienable right, hypothetically this leads to anarchy so I’m not allowed to mess with your rights This is mandate The republic for which we stand Mendacious tales of unity, not merely the obstinate tenacities of I, but also the cogent fecundity in the infamous we-ness of us
0
Nov 9, 2013
Nov 9, 2013 at 7:25 AM UTC
Mercenary Mendacity
Enigma entity’s ethology entelechy as it relates to clairaudience clairvoyance Everyone has a personal futurity fatidic or existential metaphysique What we need is a universally acceptable form of id conclusion Unfortunately we can’t even agree on the social stigmatisms of ego’s expression We are relatively extraneous interpolations of adhesively practical extremity that succeed in a hierarchy of functionally integrateable forms There is no functional deontology, even though its visage would seem to portend cogently fecund probity for all We are not ethereally sublime, we are corporeally preternatural Objective is individual; obligation to each other is not a mandate Though many might find it inherently indispensible to some it impedes success The depths of debauchery this debacle ensues are almost intrinsically endemic to our race How am I going to get there becomes more important than ‘what are we fighting for’ So, if there’s no unity of purpose how do we decide who we are fighting for Will it be good for all or lead to oligarchy and subjugation, the seemingly inescapable byproduct of capitalism, the inherent decadence of socialism It’s times like this that make me love the constitutional fortitude of Americanism Theoretically I have an inalienable right, hypothetically this leads to anarchy so I’m not allowed to mess with your rights This is mandate The republic for which we stand Mendacious tales of unity, not merely the obstinate tenacities of I, but also the cogent fecundity in the infamous we-ness of us
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18
—Flash Forward— A day of reckoning. A small boat crosses the Hudson River, no warning horn. Destination New Jersey, of all places. A. Burr isn’t warned that Hamilton will not fire his pistol. Destiny predetermined. “Death doesn’t discriminate Between the sinners and the saints, It takes and it takes and it takes. History obliterates.” —Flashback— General. Colonel. Aide-de-camp. Immigrant. “Don’t engage, strike by night. Remain relentless ‘til their troops take flight.” “We escort their men out of Yorktown. They stagger home single file. Tens of thousands of people flood the streets.” “Took up a collection just to send him to the mainland. ‘Get your education. Don’t forget from whence you came.’” —Stepfather of the Union— Treasury secretary, author of the Federalist Papers, lawyer, speechwriter, confidante, opponent of slavery, member of the Constitutional Convention. “History has its eyes on you.” “I’ve seen injustice in the world and I’ve corrected it.” “The Federalist: Addressed to the People of the State of New York.” “Goes and proposes his own form of government.” —Family and Marriage— The Schuyler Sisters – Eliza. Maria and James Reynolds – adultery and bribery. Philip Hamilton – successor son and victim. Philip Schuyler – father-in-law. “And if this child Shares a fraction of your smile Or a fragment of your mind, look out, world!” “I know you’re a man of honor, I’m so sorry to bother you at home.” “I’m only nineteen but my mind is older, Gonna be my own man, like my father but bolder.” “Grampa just lost his seat in the Senate.” —Why, How, How long?— Why not?, biography, genius, rapid-fire rap, hip-hop, historical vertigo, Lin-Manuel Miranda at the White House, a cast talented beyond measure, the Great White Way, 2017-18 and forever…. “…13 percent of the population is foreign born, which is near an all-time high; that one day soon there will no longer be majority and minority races, only a vibrant mix of colors.” ‒Jeremy McCarter, from Chapter I of Hamilton: The Revolution *© Lewis Bosworth, 12/2016 With credit to the book:* Hamilton: The Revolution
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Dec 7, 2016
Dec 7, 2016 at 11:35 AM UTC
A. Hamilton, Esq.
—Flash Forward— A day of reckoning. A small boat crosses the Hudson River, no warning horn. Destination New Jersey, of all places. A. Burr isn’t warned that Hamilton will not fire his pistol. Destiny predetermined. “Death doesn’t discriminate Between the sinners and the saints, It takes and it takes and it takes. History obliterates.” —Flashback— General. Colonel. Aide-de-camp. Immigrant. “Don’t engage, strike by night. Remain relentless ‘til their troops take flight.” “We escort their men out of Yorktown. They stagger home single file. Tens of thousands of people flood the streets.” “Took up a collection just to send him to the mainland. ‘Get your education. Don’t forget from whence you came.’” —Stepfather of the Union— Treasury secretary, author of the Federalist Papers, lawyer, speechwriter, confidante, opponent of slavery, member of the Constitutional Convention. “History has its eyes on you.” “I’ve seen injustice in the world and I’ve corrected it.” “The Federalist: Addressed to the People of the State of New York.” “Goes and proposes his own form of government.” —Family and Marriage— The Schuyler Sisters – Eliza. Maria and James Reynolds – adultery and bribery. Philip Hamilton – successor son and victim. Philip Schuyler – father-in-law. “And if this child Shares a fraction of your smile Or a fragment of your mind, look out, world!” “I know you’re a man of honor, I’m so sorry to bother you at home.” “I’m only nineteen but my mind is older, Gonna be my own man, like my father but bolder.” “Grampa just lost his seat in the Senate.” —Why, How, How long?— Why not?, biography, genius, rapid-fire rap, hip-hop, historical vertigo, Lin-Manuel Miranda at the White House, a cast talented beyond measure, the Great White Way, 2017-18 and forever…. “…13 percent of the population is foreign born, which is near an all-time high; that one day soon there will no longer be majority and minority races, only a vibrant mix of colors.” ‒Jeremy McCarter, from Chapter I of Hamilton: The Revolution *© Lewis Bosworth, 12/2016 With credit to the book:* Hamilton: The Revolution
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72
“It is essential in order to protect societyfrom the ambition, greed, and malpractice or caprice of rulers to ensure the inviolatibility of even the humblest home.  The right and power of the private citizen to appear to impartial courts against rulings of the state and against ministerial decrees of the day.  Freedom of speech in writing, freedom of the press, freedom of combination and agitation within the limits of long established laws.  The right of regular opposition to government.  The power to turn out a government and put another set of men in its place by lawful and constitutional means, and finally the sense of every individual’s association with the state and of some responsibility with the actions and conduct of the state.”
0
Apr 28, 2015
Apr 28, 2015 at 1:13 PM UTC
Churchill Expresses Why Dictators Shouldn't Be Welcome In Britain
Umbrage ultraism infrangible extemporaneous incognito edition Penumbral platitude platonic proxy photics rendition Interface fenestration imbroglio pandemonium inducement sedition Wretched infelicitous extant trajectory sordid intuition Scandalous scavenger squalid anomalous punitive condition Panacea chiaroscuro parallax emanate imminent perdition Equilibrist revision exertion suborn temerity imbues Indulgent zealous discrepancy apparentness cogitation accrues Heuristic noumenal psychokinesis extrapolation incursion construes Aura auspicious primitive prism processional reviews Obstinate tenacious preeminent edificatory omnipotence eschews Equivocal gumption ratification constitutional manumission ensues      Delusory apparition extravagance peccavi verity tempestuous Obtrusive obtusely overt indemnities sagaciously obliquitous Ephemeral anxiety antonym existential exigency alacritous Fortuitous emendation phantasm ontological ontogeny acuitous Indemnify veracious infernal infidel impunities iniquitous Meritorious fulham presumptive extrication expiation indigenous
0
Oct 12, 2017
Oct 12, 2017 at 9:10 AM UTC
Anonymity Emanations (re-post)
Oh..,Ah, Wooo...Woe, Waw. New Year creeps from dark Old Emerging fears smear around Wet, sweating the poor hold Yelling hounds in wild field Expectations bloom red to dry Amidst the Constitutional cry Really,moves on coins' rail 2012's Capital West-ward frail. A panic Year or frolic Year near, Be it Happy to all my dear.
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Dec 31, 2011
Dec 31, 2011 at 7:58 AM UTC
New Year
Subject of forced indoctrination Given a placebo of hope And made to look at society Through artificial eyes Just another disfigured mind Molded through the Systematic eradication Of constitutional freedoms Walking with a knife in your spine And shackles on your head And the force-fed propaganda Giving a false notion Of a peaceful reality Is this what you want? Step away from the wires of captivity The Automated Deity of our future Be one with yourself Be reborn Not recreated
0
May 2, 2014
May 2, 2014 at 1:17 AM UTC
Technological Captivity
doing the heavy lifting *picking up my emaciated heart, letting the rest of my wilting body tag along qualifies, but is not the heavy lifting referenced above. we all have a meeting, the bits and pieces, the bobs and keepsakes that constitute my mien, a constitutional convention of 13 colonies that raucous write of burdens, of freedoms, with wild inspirations and cold political calculations this combining document hoping to topstitch my reeling mind and deteriorating physic, to write words of hopeful praise but rising to a world that is baking in hatred into fabric and tissue, and that is the heaviest lift of all Sunday morning, coffe-d, somewhat rested, a full day planned, and a Mike Message says it’s me that does the heavy lifting and I know! he knows! the displaced state of my mind, and the hardened ache of writing with fresh hope, when there is so little, that it is lost in the litter of endlessness of a world gone, not going, mad~insane and murderers are illogically celebrated, and yet here I am punching words on my AM Morning Punch List of worthy words available that aid us needy for repair & yet might move us together to a state of full repair;   but I am punchy from trying, to find words themselves that require do not require, a truth washing, a new word recleansing and*     (they put the load right on me), *and naïf-not, see the troubles ahead and get me more paper to add to the list of lists of worldly worrisome words that are heavy lifting of the world as it is but know I weep as I write this for not in my possess the light airy words, the wordsmith is crushed neath the weight of*** tonnage of human word-lessened-ness Sunday Morning Oct 22 2023 9:02am, writ in a singed single cry
0
Oct 22, 2023
Oct 22, 2023 at 10:09 AM UTC
doing the heavy lifting
doing the heavy lifting *picking up my emaciated heart, letting the rest of my wilting body tag along qualifies, but is not the heavy lifting referenced above. we all have a meeting, the bits and pieces, the bobs and keepsakes that constitute my mien, a constitutional convention of 13 colonies that raucous write of burdens, of freedoms, with wild inspirations and cold political calculations this combining document hoping to topstitch my reeling mind and deteriorating physic, to write words of hopeful praise but rising to a world that is baking in hatred into fabric and tissue, and that is the heaviest lift of all Sunday morning, coffe-d, somewhat rested, a full day planned, and a Mike Message says it’s me that does the heavy lifting and I know! he knows! the displaced state of my mind, and the hardened ache of writing with fresh hope, when there is so little, that it is lost in the litter of endlessness of a world gone, not going, mad~insane and murderers are illogically celebrated, and yet here I am punching words on my AM Morning Punch List of worthy words available that aid us needy for repair & yet might move us together to a state of full repair;   but I am punchy from trying, to find words themselves that require do not require, a truth washing, a new word recleansing and*     (they put the load right on me), *and naïf-not, see the troubles ahead and get me more paper to add to the list of lists of worldly worrisome words that are heavy lifting of the world as it is but know I weep as I write this for not in my possess the light airy words, the wordsmith is crushed neath the weight of*** tonnage of human word-lessened-ness Sunday Morning Oct 22 2023 9:02am, writ in a singed single cry
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46
Barren halls, devoid of children echo with the ghostly staccato of gunfire and the mockingly musical tinkling of spent brass. Specters of children set free through violence mutely stand vigil over stained tile and carpet, shocked by their sudden transition. Parents, siblings, grandparents and family reel from the sudden void caused by the senseless and cowardly actions of a 2nd Amendment zealot’s son. Christmas presents without recipients sit untouched in secret places – never to light up the eyes and faces of eager and happy children. Flags fly in solemn respect at half-staff signifying a nation in mourning, yet a nation so reluctant to address the core of these issues which have made these crimes so common-place. Bumbling and incompetent politicians – securely in the NRA’s and gun-lobby’s pocket are quick to ***** the party lines: “Guns don’t **** people.” “My fork and knife made me fat.” All the while the mentally tormented and dangerous continue to take up arms and slaughter innocents – as apparently their constitutional rights are more sacred than the life of a first-grader. How long America, will you dip your pens in the blood of children and write the laws that take their lives? How long America, will you wrap yourself in a blood-stained flag and spew the toxic and hateful lie that guns don’t **** people? How many more must bleed your ink and feed your mill before we cry, “enough is enough!!”? © 2012 Michael Hunter
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Dec 20, 2012
Dec 20, 2012 at 9:47 PM UTC
Second Amendment Lament
i find it strange to be politically correct, without actually exercising any political career-motive as a member of a government... because that's what's we're being sold: to be politically correct, without a career in politics. doubly strange, to foster non-antagonising views on everyday matters, to later realise that whoever we're antagonising from an environmental bias (rather than a personal bias) we will never share a dinner with... so like our opinions mattering in the first place was by-and-large, just a media hoax to ensure we were all prescribed the safety of walking the tight-rope... and never really designating ourselves the freedom of the constitutional rights - this leftist bias remains intact, on the canvas of freedom of speech, however that freedom allows us to see rural endeavours in talk, the once appreciated freedom is becoming a polarised freedom to name & shame... a media hammer or nail... because it's only freedom when enough people agree with "us", to allow a bicep expression of being backed up like some Spartacus... i mean, i don't agree with most expression, but i wouldn't **** the hornet's nest with the media frenzy to appear politically correct... when so few of us actually have any political power.... being sold free speech, to be later curbed with political correctness is a bit cancerous.... given that free speech is equated to the voting X from the age of mass illiteracy... i don't see how free speech became a vehicle for acquiring constrained speech dynamic - when did we forget the chastity of speaking the airy-fairy things in life on the informal basis, and when did we become so ****** friendless, estranged, outsiders to everything that matters... and now, supposedly between butcher and greengrocer, talking about the weather in cocktail smocking and bow-tie? free speech gave us the rights to not ask for political powers... on whatever governmental tier... prescribing us political correctness has given the everyday John the delusion that he can process political power... the once famous strive for speaking what the hell you want but not wanting political power changed into being prescribed political correctness but no political power... so i ask you... what's the point of being politically correct, if you gain no political power, unless you're a rat, a snitch, spying on your neighbour to grass them out? because that's what political correctness bred, snitches... those given political correctness laws were never given any other political power... added to the fact that they wouldn't have said anything interesting / provocative anyway.
0
Aug 21, 2016
Aug 21, 2016 at 9:50 PM UTC
Media Spartacus / Cannonball Adderley's else
i find it strange to be politically correct, without actually exercising any political career-motive as a member of a government... because that's what's we're being sold: to be politically correct, without a career in politics. doubly strange, to foster non-antagonising views on everyday matters, to later realise that whoever we're antagonising from an environmental bias (rather than a personal bias) we will never share a dinner with... so like our opinions mattering in the first place was by-and-large, just a media hoax to ensure we were all prescribed the safety of walking the tight-rope... and never really designating ourselves the freedom of the constitutional rights - this leftist bias remains intact, on the canvas of freedom of speech, however that freedom allows us to see rural endeavours in talk, the once appreciated freedom is becoming a polarised freedom to name & shame... a media hammer or nail... because it's only freedom when enough people agree with "us", to allow a bicep expression of being backed up like some Spartacus... i mean, i don't agree with most expression, but i wouldn't **** the hornet's nest with the media frenzy to appear politically correct... when so few of us actually have any political power.... being sold free speech, to be later curbed with political correctness is a bit cancerous.... given that free speech is equated to the voting X from the age of mass illiteracy... i don't see how free speech became a vehicle for acquiring constrained speech dynamic - when did we forget the chastity of speaking the airy-fairy things in life on the informal basis, and when did we become so ****** friendless, estranged, outsiders to everything that matters... and now, supposedly between butcher and greengrocer, talking about the weather in cocktail smocking and bow-tie? free speech gave us the rights to not ask for political powers... on whatever governmental tier... prescribing us political correctness has given the everyday John the delusion that he can process political power... the once famous strive for speaking what the hell you want but not wanting political power changed into being prescribed political correctness but no political power... so i ask you... what's the point of being politically correct, if you gain no political power, unless you're a rat, a snitch, spying on your neighbour to grass them out? because that's what political correctness bred, snitches... those given political correctness laws were never given any other political power... added to the fact that they wouldn't have said anything interesting / provocative anyway.
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54
What miserable circumstances these are I must say, All seriousness awaits every young mind, Dust turns to dirt, And thy dirt turns to slime!!! Lying in the state of orient, Thine place of buckeye hatched Nazi's!!! Thine place where flies stay nutritious, And gamblers turn to yahzee!!! Turnaround, For pickaways thy decadent view, Just as Shawshank there's no escape, Just white t-shirts , Straps replace laces and mindrapists of me and you!!! Such colorful words used in a slander!!! Falcons to replace birds, Snake's here to smell out every tasteful salamander!! No dancers, No lovers, No swings, No palliation!!! No invitations to weddings, No wedded rings!!!! Constitutional rights, Forgeteth them thou reader of ohian laws, Thy bloodcells extend, Muscles bend to flex thy own callibur to thine jaw!!!! Miracles of dark and lighted angels appear in sequences, No recommendations, Just case workers to fill bus help stations!!! Proverbs to psalms will open to eyes that have not yet seen, Where pearlied gates are out on display, No movie theaters, No freak like scenes!!! All reality, no aura in the Catacomb of unknown kilter!!! Pacification leads me successfully with a peace of minds own capture, Prevailing to Sentiment, To Amour ever after!!!!!
0
May 22, 2015
May 22, 2015 at 7:31 PM UTC
cut throat poetry