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"contemptibly" poems
I hate writing in pentameter, That nagging old parameter reduces The breadth of expression's diameter. It's a barrier, a boundary, a cage built around me. I'd rather cast off the impediment and Allow my thoughts to sediment freely, Really, I just can't dig it, ya feel me?   After a while, it gets so **** repetitive, and I'll bet it did drive Shakespeare nuts When he wrote all his sonnets, back When lords rocked big wigs and their Ladies wore bonnets. That's another thing It's been used and abused for like six ********* Centuries, contemptibly does this old relic Haunt us and daunt us and taunt us Writing's not meant to be a chore,   It shouldn't bore and indenture me, but Rather, set me free me and Instead be adventure, see? Wow. I'm Somehow, Feeling much better now.
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Mar 23, 2016
Mar 23, 2016 at 9:15 AM UTC
Pentameter ***** ***
(by Bruce Bawer) In Sønderberg the other day A teenage girl used pepper spray To rout a randy “refugee” From somewhere far across the sea Who threw down and molested her. The cops arrested her. As part of a jihadist plot, A brute assailant took a shot At a fine Copenhagen man Who'd deprecated the Quran. When the brave soul who'd nearly died Then publicly identified The **** who'd tried to **** him, he Was charged with grave delinquency: Breaching privacy. In Mölndal, a Somali teen Plunged a long blade into the spleen Of a young Swedish altruist Who'd yearned to do one thing: assist. The land's top cop went on TV And trumpeted his sympathy. For the poor girl who'd lost her life? No. For the kid with the knife. At one time it was understood That a devotion to the good Didn't mean one should be blind To evil, or pretend to find Some virtue in sheer villainy. To see what isn't there to see Is not a sign of rectitude. To point out evil isn't rude; To fight it is good. You can't, however hard you try, Mistake for a speck in the eye A loaded *** in the hands Of some rough beast from foreign sands Intent on taking out a child. You'll win no points for being mild To members of a desert creed That seeks to make the heathen bleed And preaches that the kind and meek Are contemptibly weak. Christ said to turn the other cheek. But what if it's not just your cheek?
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Feb 20, 2016
Feb 20, 2016 at 1:58 PM UTC
In Our Time
As I was driving down the country road the moon seemed to chase me swiftly I drove It came without warning it came with haste a blinding white spotlight blazed in my face Next thing I knew it couldn't be I was not where I was supposed to be a long way from home alone in the trees my car sitting idle I feel ill at ease How did I get here where could I be confusion and pain coursing through me Bruises and cuts as if I were dragged all over my body feeling so drained who will believe what happened to me they will all laugh contemptibly I alone know the reality another experiment performed upon me They have been coming since I was thirteen little doctors choosing to steal from me All that I am and what makes up me keeping for themselves for their own need I wonder if they will be here for life taking what they want escape in the night I know I am not the only one to suffer in silence beaten and robbed There have been others and there will be even more victims long after me Maybe some day they will agree we're all the same our species....
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Mar 23, 2013
Mar 23, 2013 at 8:19 PM UTC
For Life
Not that i claimed to have really known u back then  cause even then i had not the slightest clue  but theres still something about u i tend to defend  ..that simplistically complex creative beautiful truth  Enigmatic at many times, but not frighten instead keen  magnetic with my smile  some may even call it incomprehensible obscene  Fraudulent but fragile for i love and hate at once  mellifluously i beg for my own sanity My mind, my heart disputatious ...lacking complete clarity  Still i feel as though i knew me better then in comparison to now awe-inspiring, and inexplicably My distorted distracted me is wowed  For ive come to realize i know me less today this person ive turned out to be...  nothing short of decay  ...Contemptibly delighted to say is me
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May 31, 2014
May 31, 2014 at 5:58 AM UTC
Duplicity
Through your eyes. I could save the world. Leap across tall buildings and catch crashing planes. But that look, Empty? Contemptibly? Cuts deep,                   and stops me dead in my tracks. I was helpless. A smile to die for,                               I'd die to see one last time.
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Mar 7, 2012
Mar 7, 2012 at 11:55 AM UTC
That look.
Would've if we could've But lust has a cost, Shouldnt've and wouldnt've Until trust was lost, Contemptibly, preemptively We forced it at first Predictably, restrictively Left in the lurch, Precisely, concisely The sneer pulled it down Impeccably, delectably Turned laughter to frown Conclusively, Intrusively We both spat the dum Then Sadder but gladder Decided to run. You sprinted East and I legged it West Both relieved to be free Devolved and absolved now,   Both, contemptible we! M. North Queensland 1968
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Jul 5, 2021
Jul 5, 2021 at 2:06 AM UTC
Lust had a Cost