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"defame" poems
*I woke up this morning and my name flashed on T.V. They said i blew up places , they said i killed masses . Men , women & children I murdered them all. Who am I ? I am a muslim and i am taking this fall. They used my name and spread the terror. I am not them , it surely is an error. We, muslims, are the holders of peace , we spread love. Why am I being  represented by their false actions. I am a person, with different notions. World will now brand me a terrorist. Don't judge me by their actions , I insist. I am not them, they pilfered my name. They inflicted libel , and my religion to defame . I have been robbed , robbed of my name. I am a muslim , human like you , all the same. My name has been robbed , my identity stolen I deprecate the terror and mourn for fallen. There are millions like me and humanity lies in our depths. But we are all victims of Identity Theft* ...............
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Nov 15, 2015
Nov 15, 2015 at 12:20 AM UTC
The Identity Theft
Power is indeed a corruptive force, Through all of mankind’s history This has always been true. Emperors, Kings, Potentates, Popes, Presidents and Despots too. Gathering near the Throne are the Eager Courtier leeches reaching to touch the anointed one’s robe. Declaring their undying loyalty, In the process selling their souls. Their rewards, a speck of personal power, Castles and new riches of gold. Like their Master, the entitled ones will lie and cheat, while ignoring The principals of right and good. Believing “Decency” is but a poor man’s word, Never uttered within the hearing of the Ruler. Never a considered artifact of absolute power. The slaves, serfs, the common people Matter not, but to serve the Ruler. The power elite will start needless wars, or offer up sacrificial lambs, all to distract the unrest of the common man. They will suppress human rights, free speech and defame, banish or imprison their detractors. All merely smoke and mirrors to conceal, Controlling agendas of personal greed. From ancient times down to today This cycle repeats. Now we are living our own Textbooks history of tomorrow. Kingdoms and Nations have perished From this kind of poisonous corruption, Needless to say, it will happen again. Perhaps it already is.
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Aug 20, 2018
Aug 20, 2018 at 9:15 PM UTC
History Repeats
We are none truly alone, I've written of this before I shall write of our souls And the invisible chains, once more We are all connected, By these universal chains From the beggar on the corner, To the broker squandering gains We are seven billion shades, Different shades of the same hue From me here in my mountains, Across the earth to you Whether you're a dancer, Stepping to a tune Or a night fisherman, Gathering food, under the moon These universal chains, They bind us each together That's what the universe wanted, And so it is forever Each time you defame, Your fellow human across the way You're defaming part of yourself, So be careful what you say This is how its been since the beginning This is how it is until the end Be kind to each other, Remember we're all akin
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Apr 6, 2016
Apr 6, 2016 at 9:34 PM UTC
Seven Billion
What if they had a War and nobody came ! my sentiment all along Actions so transparent and telegraphed a mile long absurd anchoring, even more absurd triggering so absurd as to be meaningless the hotchpotch logic of simpletons on acid The banal manifestations of the anodyne retards with advanced hysteria Think unruly kids on Colombian marching powder think advanced psychosis with total stage ten delusions Watch mass hysteria contagion Logic was never there, rationality bolted beating Usain Bolt Inveterate liars and fantasists now control maddened throngs Oh dear! they decided I am madly in love with acquaintance neither I or poor acquaintance know this But let not the truth get in the way of a soap opera by the insanes After All meaningless triggers and Delusionary prompts keep the sheeples busy in People's Power utopia They are all having a war, nobody has told me about it I don't understand their language yet they are very eloquent Deep in their imagined Neuro-linguistic Programming or mental pygmies playing Pavlov Dog theory of the semi-illiterates   I just realized why cancer is prevalent amongst them They carry so much poison and emotional ******* in their beings It pollutes and eat away at them internally, they get cancer! Never have been interested in little minds and liars and thieves Have little time for dumb people, the toxics and the sheeples What makes cretins think I take anything of theirs to mind what can I learn or gain from contemptibles I don't feel inferior so why would I want to learn how to slander and defame others to bring them down 'Slander is the GREAT LEVELLER voiced one of them poor inadequate soul, poor pathetic degenerate I look twenty years younger than my years, no wrinkles Just slightly greying, mind as sharp as razor Because I don't carry acidic ******* hate or foul nonsense in my head, Because my mind is full of worthy knowledge because I am not an ignoramus with attitude because I am not a shameless coward or an empty headed nonentity Because I am not amongst the madding crowd I am not an insignificant pointless HATER with cancer in waiting! I am NOT a SHAMELESS RACIST white THIEF discrediting the Victim I STOLE from OR an OBNOXIOUS gang of SOCIALIST crazed subhumans cancerized by jealousy and envy
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Oct 1, 2018
Oct 1, 2018 at 4:47 PM UTC
Advance C. Macafartty Soldiers
What if they had a War and nobody came ! my sentiment all along Actions so transparent and telegraphed a mile long absurd anchoring, even more absurd triggering so absurd as to be meaningless the hotchpotch logic of simpletons on acid The banal manifestations of the anodyne retards with advanced hysteria Think unruly kids on Colombian marching powder think advanced psychosis with total stage ten delusions Watch mass hysteria contagion Logic was never there, rationality bolted beating Usain Bolt Inveterate liars and fantasists now control maddened throngs Oh dear! they decided I am madly in love with acquaintance neither I or poor acquaintance know this But let not the truth get in the way of a soap opera by the insanes After All meaningless triggers and Delusionary prompts keep the sheeples busy in People's Power utopia They are all having a war, nobody has told me about it I don't understand their language yet they are very eloquent Deep in their imagined Neuro-linguistic Programming or mental pygmies playing Pavlov Dog theory of the semi-illiterates   I just realized why cancer is prevalent amongst them They carry so much poison and emotional ******* in their beings It pollutes and eat away at them internally, they get cancer! Never have been interested in little minds and liars and thieves Have little time for dumb people, the toxics and the sheeples What makes cretins think I take anything of theirs to mind what can I learn or gain from contemptibles I don't feel inferior so why would I want to learn how to slander and defame others to bring them down 'Slander is the GREAT LEVELLER voiced one of them poor inadequate soul, poor pathetic degenerate I look twenty years younger than my years, no wrinkles Just slightly greying, mind as sharp as razor Because I don't carry acidic ******* hate or foul nonsense in my head, Because my mind is full of worthy knowledge because I am not an ignoramus with attitude because I am not a shameless coward or an empty headed nonentity Because I am not amongst the madding crowd I am not an insignificant pointless HATER with cancer in waiting! I am NOT a SHAMELESS RACIST white THIEF discrediting the Victim I STOLE from OR an OBNOXIOUS gang of SOCIALIST crazed subhumans cancerized by jealousy and envy
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Born a King Born a Queen Born a Slave Born into freedom only to be Caged Shackled bound confined Scared Caged Far from the Motherland A people Made sculpt molded In her image Brown earth Yellow sun Mahogany dark Like the stone unyielding Proud like the Kilimanjaro Minds open like the plains Of the Serengeti Free Only to be brought here Caged Used abused overwhelmed exhausted Caged Thrown away when aged like broken toys Broken minds broken spirits afraid of our own image Caged Here we stand today with all the technology the worlds knowledge at our fingertips Caged Brothers’ sisters’ fathers sons’ mothers’ daughters’ families ripped apart Torn at the seams no village to be seen Caged We are at war with violence ignorance rage A horrible legacy indeed ……Caged Our once proud people afraid to face the future We are creating to our shame the same source of fear ignorance and rage In our most valuable assets our jewels our destiny Our children Our vision In our cage we destroy each other We are racist in our own race We defame denounce deplore each other Are we comfortable complacent satisfied in our cage? Our history tell us no our descendents tell us we shouldn’t be They say to us we have no limits boundaries restrictions They found the keys to the cage They urge us they encourage us they push us in the direction of the stars Come out of your comfort zones Embrace hold tight pull it in The spirits of Our Kings Our Queens Our history Teach if you can learn Learn if you can teach Open minds hearts souls Receive your freedom Unlock the Cage. Free! Liberate! Unshackle! Black history is not a month it’s your life.
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Mar 31, 2013
Mar 31, 2013 at 4:26 PM UTC
The Cage
Born a King Born a Queen Born a Slave Born into freedom only to be Caged Shackled bound confined Scared Caged Far from the Motherland A people Made sculpt molded In her image Brown earth Yellow sun Mahogany dark Like the stone unyielding Proud like the Kilimanjaro Minds open like the plains Of the Serengeti Free Only to be brought here Caged Used abused overwhelmed exhausted Caged Thrown away when aged like broken toys Broken minds broken spirits afraid of our own image Caged Here we stand today with all the technology the worlds knowledge at our fingertips Caged Brothers’ sisters’ fathers sons’ mothers’ daughters’ families ripped apart Torn at the seams no village to be seen Caged We are at war with violence ignorance rage A horrible legacy indeed ……Caged Our once proud people afraid to face the future We are creating to our shame the same source of fear ignorance and rage In our most valuable assets our jewels our destiny Our children Our vision In our cage we destroy each other We are racist in our own race We defame denounce deplore each other Are we comfortable complacent satisfied in our cage? Our history tell us no our descendents tell us we shouldn’t be They say to us we have no limits boundaries restrictions They found the keys to the cage They urge us they encourage us they push us in the direction of the stars Come out of your comfort zones Embrace hold tight pull it in The spirits of Our Kings Our Queens Our history Teach if you can learn Learn if you can teach Open minds hearts souls Receive your freedom Unlock the Cage. Free! Liberate! Unshackle! Black history is not a month it’s your life.
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I Tomorrow waits in the dried plant bones splintering balcony karma next to the ****** galatic twilight. Moon poems paralyzing yonder one color chess matches on transcended leather --thigh laughter buried alive in rubble under fifteen cushions of red flesh. Let's go wave our bottom banners undying in the realm of lifetimes and its spontaneous chases. Plethora inhales from one-legged warlords under fragrant wash pillars obstructing the pilgrimage of wrapping my stranger around a blade. The second blameless pantheon of Christianity. II put down the flowers, thought scars from a thirsty delusion that taste the industry instruction deep in meditation spoons that pierce the sides of students. Heaven rains/*angelic ************ on the obscure sail drifting towards the horizon --a mad-religious shape from the bottom banners undying III there isn't even the smallest incense that the earth's door shortens, an attempt in debt to defame the impregnable summer with washroom axes on the grape's night before you and I snap.
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Apr 1, 2013
Apr 1, 2013 at 12:41 PM UTC
WonderHate
A light in the dark shadows burn with a spark that ignites to a bright shining flame. The dead lie in groves of lost winter souls that wander with visionless aim. A rising relief ensues in the reef of the green and colorless gold. A raven takes flight in the deep death of night to escape from the black hell of old. These wandering, murmuring, children of god storm wrath from the heavens and **** what is good. Devour the light as they drain all the life from the world we once called our brood. Take us away. Drain us, defame us. A whisper in the void. Take us away, lock us away, **** us. A whisper in the void. Psychonatural Antichrist, bleeding the truth from false prophets. Summoning hellfire, demonic intrigue, desecration and violence. Infernal release, a smiling god weeps and a glare of rage seeps from beneath. In an eternal sea of stones will they forever reap. Death will be paid to the ones he learns to hate. Black velvet draped across the coffin of grace. Take us away, far and away. A whisper in the void. Take us away to destroy and remake. A whisper in the void. A whisper in the void. Enter the darkness. Into the abyss. Far away. Thermonuclear enslavior. Stay awake. Remaining. Give your soul to the unknown, bleed into the black night air. The savior will come soon, to take you to His room, and liberate you from despair. Suffocate quickly, quietly. Swiftly, so no one may hear you, or catch you dying. Slip away faster and faster the tighter you squeeze the noose around your neck. Give yourself away. Death is your escape. Death does not betray like life will. Give yourself to they, the keepers of the fade with intent to save and desecrate. And as they say, they will be they, and they will **** and humiliate. Break you down, drag you around, deny, defy and utilize. Every last bit will wallow in **** from the hate you created and ate from. Suffer in pain, annihilation. A whisper in the void. Burn alone, in isolation. A whisper in the void. A whisper in the void. A whisper...
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Oct 8, 2014
Oct 8, 2014 at 2:57 PM UTC
A Whisper in the Void
A light in the dark shadows burn with a spark that ignites to a bright shining flame. The dead lie in groves of lost winter souls that wander with visionless aim. A rising relief ensues in the reef of the green and colorless gold. A raven takes flight in the deep death of night to escape from the black hell of old. These wandering, murmuring, children of god storm wrath from the heavens and **** what is good. Devour the light as they drain all the life from the world we once called our brood. Take us away. Drain us, defame us. A whisper in the void. Take us away, lock us away, **** us. A whisper in the void. Psychonatural Antichrist, bleeding the truth from false prophets. Summoning hellfire, demonic intrigue, desecration and violence. Infernal release, a smiling god weeps and a glare of rage seeps from beneath. In an eternal sea of stones will they forever reap. Death will be paid to the ones he learns to hate. Black velvet draped across the coffin of grace. Take us away, far and away. A whisper in the void. Take us away to destroy and remake. A whisper in the void. A whisper in the void. Enter the darkness. Into the abyss. Far away. Thermonuclear enslavior. Stay awake. Remaining. Give your soul to the unknown, bleed into the black night air. The savior will come soon, to take you to His room, and liberate you from despair. Suffocate quickly, quietly. Swiftly, so no one may hear you, or catch you dying. Slip away faster and faster the tighter you squeeze the noose around your neck. Give yourself away. Death is your escape. Death does not betray like life will. Give yourself to they, the keepers of the fade with intent to save and desecrate. And as they say, they will be they, and they will **** and humiliate. Break you down, drag you around, deny, defy and utilize. Every last bit will wallow in **** from the hate you created and ate from. Suffer in pain, annihilation. A whisper in the void. Burn alone, in isolation. A whisper in the void. A whisper in the void. A whisper...
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You've got a glow like a star. From afar, I wished on you, and now, there you are. Looking at me from behind those eyelashes, smashing my inhibitions like broken prose. Pretty you, whom I have yet to meet, I greet you, sweetly, and ask you this: would you miss the moonlight if I stole it from your eyes? The mirrored glow they show is more bright, and not to my surprise- how could even the moon not swoon, lost in your gaze? Moonbeams and starlight, both seem to have lost their ways. Could you tell me, pretty you- did the wind put you there? You have taken my breath, and shaken the air around your face. Such grace must surely fly- so how is it that you pass me by here on the ground? Don't misunderstand, I'm glad you've come around, pretty you. Pretty you, I hope I'm not too fresh, but my mind is a bit of a mesh, and you're pouring through it. The sound of nature stopping to admire, like moths to a fire, myself closest to the flame. Tell me, pretty you, do you have a name? What word could be crafted, such a beauty to frame? Surely, anything plain would only defame. I'll be honest, pretty miss, my heart tells me to chance a kiss, but I know I shouldn't rush, but take it slow. Instead, I have another plan to sit here, and maybe hold your hand, and under moonlight, your voice, get to know. But should the passion overtake, don't be shy, make no mistake- I won't be put off should you choose to, lean in close, just like this... and like so, steal a little kiss... That would be just fine, pretty you
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Jun 24, 2016
Jun 24, 2016 at 4:10 PM UTC
Pretty You
You've got a glow like a star. From afar, I wished on you, and now, there you are. Looking at me from behind those eyelashes, smashing my inhibitions like broken prose. Pretty you, whom I have yet to meet, I greet you, sweetly, and ask you this: would you miss the moonlight if I stole it from your eyes? The mirrored glow they show is more bright, and not to my surprise- how could even the moon not swoon, lost in your gaze? Moonbeams and starlight, both seem to have lost their ways. Could you tell me, pretty you- did the wind put you there? You have taken my breath, and shaken the air around your face. Such grace must surely fly- so how is it that you pass me by here on the ground? Don't misunderstand, I'm glad you've come around, pretty you. Pretty you, I hope I'm not too fresh, but my mind is a bit of a mesh, and you're pouring through it. The sound of nature stopping to admire, like moths to a fire, myself closest to the flame. Tell me, pretty you, do you have a name? What word could be crafted, such a beauty to frame? Surely, anything plain would only defame. I'll be honest, pretty miss, my heart tells me to chance a kiss, but I know I shouldn't rush, but take it slow. Instead, I have another plan to sit here, and maybe hold your hand, and under moonlight, your voice, get to know. But should the passion overtake, don't be shy, make no mistake- I won't be put off should you choose to, lean in close, just like this... and like so, steal a little kiss... That would be just fine, pretty you
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By: Cedric McClester Don’t say, “Allahu Akbar!” Because the facts are That while God is Great He’s not a God of hate And if you can’t relate You have a second rate Ideology can’t you see It’s clearly blaspheme Don’t say, “Allahu Akbar!” While you blow up a car To maim and **** As if it’s God’s will You won’t reach paradise Because it isn’t nice To harm humanity Read Qu’ran like me Don’t say, “Allahu Akbar!” Who you think you are God doesn’t sanctions you To do the things you do You think it’s heaven sent To **** the innocent And do it in a Name That you clearly defame Don’t say, “Allahu Akbar!” When you know you are Just an insane jihadi Down with al Baghdadi Who’s merely a snake So give me a break Because he’s a viper Worthy of a ****** Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2015. All rights reserved.
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Nov 14, 2015
Nov 14, 2015 at 4:47 AM UTC
DON'T SAY, "ALLAHU AKBAR!"
The ancient men, They were insecure, Insecure about power, They did not take it, The rule of mom. After they forgot the source womb, They made all attempts to defame, Belittling every aspect of women, I am ashamed of how they became, Because in the end it is we men.
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Jun 7, 2016
Jun 7, 2016 at 2:03 PM UTC
The Divine Conspiracy
Humans can be cruel am left to reminisce on the brutality The look on  your faces Excitment, fears and tears Why do you invent things that will harm you Overwhelming your brain I've heard violence begets more of it all alone in a world gone mad next time I'll pull the world underneath you You defame death but life made you suffer I promise you life after death Or maybe the sun won't rise tomorrow Life isn't fun till you see your enemies jealous I promise you today death will be more painful I'll turn you into a morgue ****** with much enthusiasim my intentions are wicked thoughts lethal I've set out to conquer very sinful, fearless secrets
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Aug 5, 2014
Aug 5, 2014 at 1:51 PM UTC
Terrified
I'm innocent  everything goes opposite LiFe has no abashment  Problems are objects Life is aberrant  shoots hard bullets  I'm innocent  Life is full of coincidences Hope people understand  Life ? People abases  Its a painful wound No more absolves  I'm innocent I'm tired of myself Sick of being the same I feel like a werewolf  Me , I did defame  Myself is just a calf  I'm innocent  This what life wants  No more tolerate Live in aborts  Small sins accumulate  Chokes me with ascots  I'm innocent  I don't want this Live in aversion  It's only my bris  Love must accretion  Or live like the ******* nazis  I'm innocent  I NEED her back Important in my life circle keeps me on the track  Every word is a canticle  Wrack hack her lack clack  I'm innocent  She's the one i NEED My life is She Sweet, tasty like the aniseed  The most important strophe  Makes it shinny and adorned  I'm innocent I don't want drugs I hate to scab  Its not brags  It hurts like a stab Drugs is crags  Edit by: Melanie on this fourteenth day of September, twenty thirteen
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Nov 27, 2013
Nov 27, 2013 at 7:54 AM UTC
InnocenT & LosT
It is said, to overcome and conquer and enemy, You have to know him better than you know yourself. This enemy I know well. He plays on me to my strength, but I will not be drawn in, enticed by, or seduced in this intellectual exchange, a battle of the soul’s wit. He encamps around about me picking at the scabs of my many afflictions until they bleed out my many transgressions and memories displaced. He knows my innermost secrets. He hides in the shadows of my fallacies articulating my intentions, plotting on my next move. He strikes with malice in his right hand, and with fear and intimidation in his left releasing the venom of self deception, paralysis to my self, esteemed. He knows me well; falling back into the abyss of my many false realities created by my conscious, he knows me. In the end I count my losses, bludgeoned by defeat, but his miscalculations has not seen the prophecies foretold as I have sewn seeds of new life in the fields of my emptiness. This is a warring encounter unrelenting, fighting me to my end. Although outwitted by my ingenuity, He attempts to still chain, restrain and defame my life to be, but I will not give in. I know my nemesis very well. For he, is me… My own worst enemy. © 2013
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Aug 6, 2013
Aug 6, 2013 at 8:22 AM UTC
The In, In Me
You've made a mockery of our beliefs, And our prophet you defame. I think and think and think, From this, what is your gain? We stand for peace and mercy, We always have and will. The actions of some may scar us, While they remain sinful. I will condemn their actions, As every human should. But apologies I will not, For its not under Islam's hood. I can't claim responsibility, For something I've not done. Neither can I say sorry, For its not part of my religion. Anyone can say 'Allah', And do atrocities in His name. But what of those 1.6 billion Muslims, Who His name they rightly claim? I have only one request, That I'd kindly wish you do, Look beyond the hate and hurt, And see Muslims are just like you. Peaceful. Loving. Caring. We have families too. Islam is a religion of peace, Peace be on to you.
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Jan 9, 2015
Jan 9, 2015 at 4:25 PM UTC
#notinmyname
Though many seek to destroy, tear asunder the ties that bind, to take from me my serenity, I will not bow. Though many may seek to defame, to separate mother from child, to expose brutal and violent philosophy, I will not bow. Though the tides converge, crashing waves with overwhelming force, I cannot hope to overcome, I will not bow. Though the forces of fate conspire, alone am I against the world, my views are singular and often discouraged, I will not bow. Though man will try to change my mind, to make me see through their eyes, to see things as they are, not what they are to me, I will not bow. Though contention rages in my world, though doubt clouds my mind, caught in the tempters snare, a creation wrought of man, I will not bow. Though tempests will swarm, maniacal laughter sold as new, and time will change all things, I will not bow. Though the things I love will one day die. though my generation will fade into obscurity, a loss of collective value and shared experience, my progeny will carry the flame, they will not bow. Though my body will succumb to the world, my soul will not, I will not bow.
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Nov 15, 2013
Nov 15, 2013 at 6:48 PM UTC
I Will Not Bow
You Shame me, blame me humiliate me and lie. Compare me, threaten me, defame me and ignore my cries. My life played like a toy, controlled and molded as it's twisted and pried. You Charm them, ****** them and shape them with veiled ascendancy. The manipulated, the puppets, the pawns; the recruited proxy. Their life played like a toy, to dance and to sing to the captivating sounds of a deluded melody. They Become your enablers, the abusers, the bullies; your silhouettes. Your servants, your minions, your marionettes. Forever blindly clutched on a page of your novelette. I Am no longer a victim, desiring love from my family. I am now enlightened and empowered, free from your chains. I gained awareness, my strength and my sanity. Now you play in silence with your bitter scapegoat games.
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Oct 29, 2017
Oct 29, 2017 at 7:12 PM UTC
A Scapegoat's Claim
I may mistake the modern day for Salem. We seem to be mirroring the crazy then verbatim. Back then, the hysterical banter was of witchcraft and bewitchment. Now it’s plotless allegations with no plausible way to prove it. Someone accuses another of a devious deed, No trial, no proof, I guess that’s no longer a need. Just escort them, with haste, to the center of the stage, Light the fire and burn them alive, Leaving the liar to tell another lie. The only witchcraft that I see, Is how people, so thoughtlessly, Get so passionate about events so petty, That they become a mob, a stormy sea. It has nothing to do with their lives, But they see a cause and sharpen their knives. A primitive desire to antagonize, What we believe to be bad, but based on lies. Truth has become subjective, Despite its definition, objective. I can spur a web of lies, Witchcraft in disguise. No need for evidence, it doesn’t have to be airtight, Just enough to incite the urge to fight. Isn’t that a sorry sight? “Burn the witches!” They’d scream in Salem. “Cancel them!” Is the modern verbatim. They don’t deserve to tell their side, Just shut them down and ostracize. Guilty until proven innocent, Dripping with bitterness and discontentment. It’s a lose-lose for the accused, At least they don’t meet their end at the end of a noose. Perhaps the witches we need to burn, Are the ones who accuse without evidence to confirm. Why is the burden of proof on the accused, And not the ones who defame and misuse, Justice for a few moments in the news? Burn naivety, which says that people always tell the truth, And understand that, sometimes, people are just cruel. Send the liars out into the center of the stage, State their case, their proof, and who’s to blame. Due process, not this foolish nonsense, Based on feelings used against us. Before we’re all bewitched by passion, Which overcomes our reason.
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Sep 3, 2025
Sep 3, 2025 at 8:13 PM UTC
Witchcraft and Bewitchment
I may mistake the modern day for Salem. We seem to be mirroring the crazy then verbatim. Back then, the hysterical banter was of witchcraft and bewitchment. Now it’s plotless allegations with no plausible way to prove it. Someone accuses another of a devious deed, No trial, no proof, I guess that’s no longer a need. Just escort them, with haste, to the center of the stage, Light the fire and burn them alive, Leaving the liar to tell another lie. The only witchcraft that I see, Is how people, so thoughtlessly, Get so passionate about events so petty, That they become a mob, a stormy sea. It has nothing to do with their lives, But they see a cause and sharpen their knives. A primitive desire to antagonize, What we believe to be bad, but based on lies. Truth has become subjective, Despite its definition, objective. I can spur a web of lies, Witchcraft in disguise. No need for evidence, it doesn’t have to be airtight, Just enough to incite the urge to fight. Isn’t that a sorry sight? “Burn the witches!” They’d scream in Salem. “Cancel them!” Is the modern verbatim. They don’t deserve to tell their side, Just shut them down and ostracize. Guilty until proven innocent, Dripping with bitterness and discontentment. It’s a lose-lose for the accused, At least they don’t meet their end at the end of a noose. Perhaps the witches we need to burn, Are the ones who accuse without evidence to confirm. Why is the burden of proof on the accused, And not the ones who defame and misuse, Justice for a few moments in the news? Burn naivety, which says that people always tell the truth, And understand that, sometimes, people are just cruel. Send the liars out into the center of the stage, State their case, their proof, and who’s to blame. Due process, not this foolish nonsense, Based on feelings used against us. Before we’re all bewitched by passion, Which overcomes our reason.
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Rubayiat Al Thurab (Verses of the Dust) – 22 BismillahIr RahmanIr Raheem Willingly I ummah thurab, as passionate lover of my Beloved, And as a wanderer (Faqeer) , by willingly’ I defame myself with my own will, Without proper care about this ideal world or eternal fame, Oh my social fellowship don’t try to think wistfully or sense. To defame my noble dignity, as you may, don’t grasp my fierce rage. I myself daunted and scared about my inner rage, Kindly do not disturb, My wanderer path pleasantly let me be myself, In the moral sense of my willingly lost, And let me drown in my Beloved love forever! Allah Khair….. Khairul Rabul Alameen Yah Arrahmanur Yah Raheem Ummah Thurab – Badshah Khan. ©UT-BK 2019
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Feb 9, 2019
Feb 9, 2019 at 3:16 AM UTC
Rubayiat Al Thurab (Verses of the Dust) – 22
The words are uttered, lightly, the thought remains the same They address all the problems, a redirect of shame The words are used defensively, they can be from me, or you They won't deliver answers, only useless things to do The words express frustration, they do not bend, or break They will not be revoked, there is no worthy stake The words are spoken often, at work, and where we pray "We really cannot change it, it's always been this way" There is never any recourse, no one, an authored claim The faithful follow stricture, and will not bear the blame If the world were oh so simple, if the world was fair, or sane Then all the uttered truths, would, no character defame But we dwell within reality, where cursed are those who speak Of work that needs be done, of plugging the constant leak Futility is naught, the seeking of wrongs to fight It's the finding, in the end, it will not to be, made right
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Oct 28, 2016
Oct 28, 2016 at 3:12 PM UTC
Frustration
Classless Don’t you know who you are? The face is not thine alone You come from a long line your disregard forgets Those who built your name for honor they fought and won It was not placed in your hand to be squandered simple one Your looks what waste when ignorance is there found You took privilege and threw it to the ground This noble name a standard once held now lost and bound Take it to prison bars will train give voice to losses refrain others it will prove sound Money poured out without discretion is not wealth You show by action and deed your true health Fixed by the stars in ancient realms they to wore a garland wreath History could have been your guide waste all that is left to bequeath Your story now a sad read just a marred edition You have given the words to a sad rendition Poor little rich girl you seem to keep with tradition Wasted moments spell lost hours what a contradiction We all have so few days they are precious and golden A sacred trust that should make us always beholden You defame the family name that richly lies broadly unfolded Go back to you heritage their you will find the loss and know what you sold
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Jan 7, 2012
Jan 7, 2012 at 1:40 PM UTC
Classless
He set a motion that tied the night with a surge of peace through flight A walk at pardoned him for this fight the doorway sought now as his fortune with the moon! And a primal scream that retaliated fraught but down by fairgrounds his doggy run still furry friends rode in heat, and they couldn't be sheep in these latitudes that wool adorn when a caper was a precedent. If ghosts perched upon the cases where sprinkles attended from where they stay but they must defame those breeds with suggestive wiles they rehearsed. furthermore their embrace did employ what dignified lust was another cornflower day
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Jun 9, 2017
Jun 9, 2017 at 4:26 PM UTC
A Beguiling Dog
Life needs a fire of happiness inside me. The one inside me died when people refused to even have a look at my independently published novels. I tried to write books inspired metaphorically by my own life-threatening coma-inducing high-speed bike accident. When the Indian publishers rejected my manuscript, terming it as poorly written or full of proofing errors, I self-published my novels on the Amazon Kindle Direct Publishing Program. So far, I have successfully achieved twice as much success than what I envisioned in my first novel. I completed my graduation despite that accident, just like Akshant did so in the novel. Then I even got the M.Tech on institutional scholarship. Afterwards, I even started a PhD course in Animal Biotechnology from the same ICAR-National Dairy Research Institute as my M.Tech on institutional scholarship, but had to quit it when COVID19 struck. I started preparing for various competitive recruitment exams. I qualified as a Probationary Officer with the Bank of India through the IBPS PO/MT CRP-XII, but joined the State Bank of India as a Probationary Officer because that was a better option. As I had cleared even SSC-CGLE AAuO exam, I later quit the SBI PO job when I received the call letter from my present job. Some people have even dared to defame my novels by rating them badly on Amazon. Now I have to accept that I can't ever expect my friends, relatives, or colleagues to read my novels. I'll just focus on my job and forget that I wasted 14 years in writing and self-publishing the 9 titles on Amazon as Kindle eBooks and hardcopies. Maybe my depression will help me passively **** myself one day. My blood pressure is already much lower than normal. Vitamin supplements help, but temporarily. So many artists have died due to depression. I shall not be the first one. People can go berate my novels on Amazon. My parents tell me that since I have a job now, I shouldn't focus on my creative expression.
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Aug 19, 2024
Aug 19, 2024 at 9:03 PM UTC
Open Letter
Life needs a fire of happiness inside me. The one inside me died when people refused to even have a look at my independently published novels. I tried to write books inspired metaphorically by my own life-threatening coma-inducing high-speed bike accident. When the Indian publishers rejected my manuscript, terming it as poorly written or full of proofing errors, I self-published my novels on the Amazon Kindle Direct Publishing Program. So far, I have successfully achieved twice as much success than what I envisioned in my first novel. I completed my graduation despite that accident, just like Akshant did so in the novel. Then I even got the M.Tech on institutional scholarship. Afterwards, I even started a PhD course in Animal Biotechnology from the same ICAR-National Dairy Research Institute as my M.Tech on institutional scholarship, but had to quit it when COVID19 struck. I started preparing for various competitive recruitment exams. I qualified as a Probationary Officer with the Bank of India through the IBPS PO/MT CRP-XII, but joined the State Bank of India as a Probationary Officer because that was a better option. As I had cleared even SSC-CGLE AAuO exam, I later quit the SBI PO job when I received the call letter from my present job. Some people have even dared to defame my novels by rating them badly on Amazon. Now I have to accept that I can't ever expect my friends, relatives, or colleagues to read my novels. I'll just focus on my job and forget that I wasted 14 years in writing and self-publishing the 9 titles on Amazon as Kindle eBooks and hardcopies. Maybe my depression will help me passively **** myself one day. My blood pressure is already much lower than normal. Vitamin supplements help, but temporarily. So many artists have died due to depression. I shall not be the first one. People can go berate my novels on Amazon. My parents tell me that since I have a job now, I shouldn't focus on my creative expression.
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10
The thought is real simple Trust nobody even ya own family Cuz they quick to defame Ya name but only shed tears When they see ya fame If i was a ghetto rap star Rollin' in new jaguar Would ya be satisfied of who ya are? Knowing that im self made hustla Creep on a come up These bustas be watchin' Ill catch em slippin' up Still rippin' up **** from my passion and fire Breakin' all those who desire My potency which be deadly Destroy every things that touched Now you ****** an OG of King Tut Strong strut no luck Im raw with my **** Hardest in the pit Once i strike everybody get hit Falls rest in peace my fellow deceased Killuminati i told ya trust nobody
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Oct 11, 2015
Oct 11, 2015 at 9:16 AM UTC
Trust NoBody
if you were to look upon me now you’d find my door so open my hands are busied in writing my mind upon my door if you were to look upon me now you’d find no one in my door frame but watch me write, and watch me live, and watch me exist with my door open watch me write a poem about it and watch those offenders, those defilers, those vagrants, mock and defame me like a criminal and a god and if you were to look upon me now while the wind rolls dust on my doorstep you would find me all alone listening to the sounds of “you’re a loner” if you were to look upon me now you would see a man silently answer “yes, I am a loner, yes, I know that quite well, but there’s nothing I can do when I sit in my room and only the wind will talk to me”
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Feb 13, 2011
Feb 13, 2011 at 12:38 PM UTC
Musings 19 (if you were to look upon me now)