"defamed" poems
What happened on Weehawken Heights,
that warm midsummer’s day?
There are several versions of the “truth”
but none for sure can say.
The Principals were both well known:
Hamilton and Burr.
Aaron Burr had made the challenge,
Hamilton would not demur.
Hamilton choose pistols as the weapons
Then Burr proposed the site.
Per the Irish Code Duello
It was all proper and right.
Dueling was illegal,
so the Seconds looked away
so they could plausibly deny
that they had seen the fray.
Each man walked off ten paces,
and Mister Pendleton yelled “Pre-sent”!
Most think that Hamilton fired first;
wide and right, his shot was spent.
Aaron Burr was deadly accurate:
His shot, its target found:
Alexander Hamilton, wounded,
swooned upon the ground.
“this wound is mortal, Doctor.”
was all Hamilton could say.
They bore him to the City where
he passed on the following day.
Aaron Burr also fled the scene,
evading prosecution.
He had “Full Satisfaction”,
this hero of the Revolution.
What is full satisfaction
when Burr’s Star was past its season?
He never more held public trust,
indeed, stood trial for treason.
A person can be haunted
by a ghost that none can see.
Burr’s brilliance had been blighted
by a sort of infamy.
Towards the end of his own life
Burr said of his enemy:
“{Had I known}The world was wide
enough for Hamilton and me.”
On July 11, 1804, Alexander Hamilton and Aaron Burr fought the most famous duel in American history. These two heroes of the Revolution were political enemies and Hamilton had done much to exclude Burr from the Presidency and from the New York governorship. Burr,feeling he had been defamed by Hamilton's published remarks demanded the "Full Satisfaction" of a duel. My account generally follows the account of the historian, Joesph Ellis. Any errors are my fault. Any items in quotes are words ascribed to these two famous individuals. Aaron Burr never after held public office and eventually stood trial for treason for his alleged attempt to set up an independent country in the territory Jefferson purchased from France. After several years living in France, Burr returned to New york where he faded into obscurity. Alexander Hamilton is buried in the churchyard of Trinity Church in downtown New york.
Towards the end of his life, Burr remarked: "Had I read Sterne more and Voltaire less, I should have known the world was wide enough for Hamilton and me."[35]
Jan 17, 2012
Jan 17, 2012 at 7:04 AM UTC
You have no chance to rewrite your story
There is no way to erase mistakes
You can eclipse your shame with glory
But your faults will always rise the stakes.
You can’t escape your past and reputation
They both will chase you to the day of doom
And your tears shed in lamentation
Will not dispel the reigning sceptic gloom.
Do things of which you’ll never be ashamed
Be kind. Be grateful, generous and honest
Mean deeds will hurt you first, getting you defamed
The noble ones will make of you the greatest.
Mar 30, 2018
Mar 30, 2018 at 1:35 PM UTC
What failures
oh the failures of leaving home at seventeen
of living and thriving as a minority foreigner
of working and studying to post-grad levels
of maturing wonderfully and being up and decent
of loving and marrying and creating a good home
of no crime, no debts, not a drunk, not a player
of no stained reputation, no borrowing or theft
of being easy-going, nice and friendly, an all-rounder
what failures
the failure of being successful and capable in grace
the failure of doing so well a white neighbor burgled
the failure of saying that's not right, you're rotten thieves
the failure of standing up to bullying thieving mobs
the failure of being gangstalked and destroyed
the failure of being an educated professional black
the failure of being a solid, courageous, wholesome man
the failure of knowing you can't do wrong and get by
Ladies and Gentlemen
these are my failures
Its all there in black and white
its the failure of being a minority
In the british democracy of the Socialists
for it is greed to work hard and be successful
its a failure for blacks to aspire and do well when your white
neighbor is a drunken, welfare dependent waster and thief
And Blacks beware, for if you dare tell them to go change
you will be stalked, hounded, smeared, defamed, humiliated
harassed, bullied, slandered, sabotaged, and basically driven to
suicide or a breakdown
They manufacture Failures to reflect their own failures
They call it Trading Places and dish it out to 'Uppity' Blacks
Aug 18, 2019
Aug 18, 2019 at 7:40 AM UTC
Met this easy chick that don't **** **** she a no brainer
I said **** my duck and she said "What could be lamer?!"
Defamed, I went home cried and smoked some ******
Watch teletubbies in my ****** like my last name was schiefer
I went to bed and heard a scream
like R.Kelly I peed my sheets
Turns out the ****** was laced some sort of hallucinogen
I'm worried that in my bloods a carcinogen
decided not to worry cause whats the point
We all die so chill and roll a joint
Dec 2, 2014
Dec 2, 2014 at 12:28 PM UTC
He saw her drop a wallet and nobody saw it
He returned it without her seeing it and she was glad
there was no thank you, no need to feel indebted to, no need to reciprocate, no belittling of the effort to not feel grateful, no aggrandizement of the effort to reward overly to the point of removing, no self-praise----all just a quiet act of kindness
but then someone did see him and blamed him for taking it in the first place and not only was the act not appreciated but it was scorned, misinterpreted, misunderstood, confused, defamed and finally damned. When kindness is ****** could there be any greater crime? The act was kindness and nobody understood it, and everyone jumped to conclusions, and everyone found one reason to **** for another reason, and nobody took the extra time, caring, compassion, and thoroughness and patience and love it would have taken to find out the truth---so the the greatest crime prevailed---far greater than the act that was understood to be the "justifiable damnation", but isn't it always the breeding grounds for justifiable damnation when conclusions about the biggest things in life are so quickly assumed to be true when they aren't. Reverse the crime with patience, love, understanding, caring being thorough, being careful, and remember the act of returning the wallet held such integrity that your shine will show the light to everyone else sooner or later but your light will forever shine regardless so don't unjustifiably **** yourself either---love yourself---and thank you for returning the wallet
Mar 3, 2015
Mar 3, 2015 at 7:34 PM UTC
As the hail makes love to the streets
I query its vendetta with I
What had I done to be defamed
By such unforeseen chagrin
The sound ‘tis the ****** of the horizon
Echoes that of a violinist scarred by ****** mortification
The harmony plays in quite a lovely manner
Could hook one quickly if not careful
Appeased I sit in a wooden, black chair
And saturate in fine rock refrains
A pacifying compensation if I may say
A scripted version of hell
Oct 4, 2012
Oct 4, 2012 at 8:48 PM UTC
This time please don’t feel sad.
I’ve tried to fade away.
Stretch thin to reach me.
Gone un-scratched for an eon.
As a breath on a death bed.
Can’t be savored for too long.
It’d feel nice to know who I am.
I’m pressed to find a way.
Dressed in his slime and his slop.
It’d feel good to know who I’m not.
Bottle up and conceal.
It’s all moved away this time.
I can feel.
No Fawkes whisper to reveal.
It’s all been changed.
But for me.
I feel the same.
I’m broken and poured.
All vivid, but defamed.
The color I had in my fingers.
Is distant on a tether.
I just coil it back in.
Before I grow numb in taste.
Feb 7, 2022
Feb 7, 2022 at 1:46 PM UTC
How a humble son of Scotland
Fought to enviable height
First a paratrooper captain
Then as a British knight
This witty chap from Glasgow
Loaned himself, a decorated past
From Distinguished Service Order
To NATO's advisory cast
As the press took him in notice
His wiki posts drew no pity
As with his tale of valour
He was defamed: "Sir Walter Mitty"
Nov 12, 2019
Nov 12, 2019 at 10:48 PM UTC
Trolls and moles, this way did pass
But they can all, kiss my ***
I’ve neither maligned nor defamed
And am surprised, to be blamed
But, I bear no malice or intent
I’m only left, with this putrid scent
BOEMS BY JA 576
Jul 7, 2016
Jul 7, 2016 at 5:03 PM UTC
Armed with knowledge
of any given set of rules,
One inherits great Power:
arbitration of One's own
Be well-versed
enough to be able to subverse
any and all obstacles, however adverse,
and, moreover, to be able to transverse
thyself (and, by extension, thy universe!)
perchance edified by some means of verse,
(but not necessarily: bask in the diverse!)
during this sacred and fleeting saga of the converse
called Life: denied, defamed, and defiled by perverse
and attenuated souls; true cowards: unwilling to traverse
their own inner darkness, rather opting for the reverse:
to turn themselves schismatically and indefinitely averse
to the divine, ineffable, and limitless inverse:
So this plea, please:
Just be you,
let them be them.
Let me be me,
and let her be her.
Let him be him,
just let us be us.
Just let us.
Lettuce.
*("Why he talkin' 'bout lettuce now, mommy?"
"I guess he just think he funny, the fool!")*
Look, point is:
You are you and I am not,
and I'm okay with that.
I am I and you are not,
and I'm okay with that.
I hope you feel the same.
If not, by me it's coo',
yet I jus' gotta say:
I pity the foo'.
Bask in the holy beauty of this Life
while you still have the chance.
Truly, Solace awaits those who are willing to face this unchangeable aspect of this Life:
Diversity is the nature of this Universe;
the Void is One is Two are Three are the Ten Thousand
(et cetera, blah blah blah)
Get over it and strive for balance.
Maintain balance.
Create it.
Be it.
Be able to lose balance and find it again and again and again...
Be it.
Be you.
I'll be me.
I'll try, at least.
I hope you do, too.
I mean, I hope you try to be you,
not that you try to be me..
'cause that's for me to do.. not you. that's..
oh jesus, here we go!
Foremost,
One must harmonize with One's own Godself.
Nary another
can or will do that for you,
nor shall ye for any other.
So, whatsayeth thou:
let's just try
and we'll see just what we can do.
I'm optimistic,
albeit a sign of weakness in such a needlessly vampyristic world.
Please,
heed my verse
should ye be so apt,
or, rather:
inclined!
Thank you for reading.
Blessings upon thy Path.
May 16, 2016
May 16, 2016 at 7:45 AM UTC
Signals are indicative of current warnings, just like a beacon of light which penetrates the abyss of parliamentary speeches which are designed to evoke contemptuous laughter.
Such animated gestures are not dissimilar to crumbled biscuits which are catapulted before throngs of anticipatory populations.
However, there are varying degrees of rectitude, where the graded fraternity assume grandiosity as they lodge in the fabric of society with loyal deception.
Lurking in the esoteric shadows with the adorned regalia of blatancy and defamed characters - our captors are hidden in plain sight with political sanction.
Gestures are a form of non-verbal communication, where specific messages are planted in anthropological soils with intended purpose.
Jul 29, 2014
Jul 29, 2014 at 11:19 PM UTC
Lost in a petri dish
Alone with a wish and a can
A list of excuses and a spinning thirst
First and foremost insatiable
The parasitic host of the ball
Falling in a familiar black swirl
Alight and ashamed
Defamed and demoralized
Dancing in divine depravity
An imp to the flame
A slave to the golden glow
Nov 21, 2011
Nov 21, 2011 at 4:34 AM UTC
The churl in spirit, up or down
Along the scale of ranks, thro' all,
To him who grasps a golden ball,
By blood a king, at heart a clown;
The churl in spirit, howe'er he veil
His want in forms for fashion's sake,
Will let his coltish nature break
At seasons thro' the gilded pale:
For who can always act? but he,
To whom a thousand memories call,
Not being less but more than all
The gentleness he seem'd to be,
Best seem'd the thing he was, and join'd
Each office of the social hour
To noble manners, as the flower
And native growth of noble mind;
Nor ever narrowness or spite,
Or villain fancy fleeting by,
Drew in the expression of an eye,
Where God and Nature met in light;
And thus he bore without abuse
The grand old name of gentleman,
Defamed by every charlatan,
And soil'd with all ignoble use.
1.1k
All good is lost,
And we pay the cost,
As we watch our country burn;
A shadow up ahead,
In the path we now tread,
A molester at every turn.
A haven for girls,
Kept decked up in pearls,
Now amused as they stand defamed;
What change came about?
How sick can a man turn out?
The law keeps the culprit unnamed!
Hurting another with such fallen grace;
Leaving her in pieces, feeling disgraced:
Soiling her form, her mind, her life;
It disgusts, hurts and saddens the soul,
A father, a brother, a friend played the role:
Shattering her dreams, her goals in a strife.
Tainted now in the darkest of shades:
*Her life is lost, a future fades;
Faith is a myth, humanity a tale.*
She's hardly alive, like the waking dead;
*And though she weeps on her poisioned bed,
She will live on bloodless and pale.*
Jul 24, 2014
Jul 24, 2014 at 12:30 AM UTC
Gracious angel, held just past my reach
I remember running wild with you, at the beach.
Extravagant white dress, manicured tresses,
That you let the water touch.
Fallen angel, at my feet,
I remember you begging to finish me.
Enough black lace, curls around your face,
That you let defamed hands touch.
Weeping angel, at the stairs,
I remember you saying you never cared.
Simple jeans, hair lost in the breeze,
Which the waves of my love couldn't touch.
Jan 22, 2014
Jan 22, 2014 at 4:22 AM UTC
It hurts so much that I could cry--
I could die
asking "why"
was it all a lie?
You had my heart inside your hand,
yet demand
to leave a brand
for my soul's command?
I danced foolishly to your song
while all along
it was wrong;
now caught in pain's throng...
You held my gaze, so hypnotized,
my demise
by your lies
I never hypothesized.
Yet you can say you're not to blame
for your game
that profaned
my heart, now defamed?
Somehow you say: "Why can't you see,
it can't be--
will never be.",
after deceiving me?
Why would you play such a facade?
No laud
for such fraud,
your judgement was flawed...
Tell me why I cannot be mad,
not glad,
and so sad--
does that make me bad?
Why?
I don't understand,
what I've done wrong
to deserve only your guise,
my shame,
and this mute plea;
now crushed in your wicked maw,
left lonesome and mad...
Apr 23, 2012
Apr 23, 2012 at 8:24 PM UTC
*bad designs have already been built.
on the verge of collapsing from all the guilt.
aged and longstanding no wonder we face the inevitably,
as what has been built will now dwindle away as ironically,
wilted petals will do the same,
disintegration of what we had is defamed,
a shattered frame never goes addressed,
with too many problems we just left,
but I guess maybe it was best.
we lost everything,
and still never learned anything.
we have nothing left to say.
just the rusted frame like our doorway,
we don't have to knock to be heard.
but watch your step so nobody gets burned.
because it hurts as memories flood in,
making you cry as tears scorch your skin,
you begin wondering what could of been.
and then you stop,
and drop into the doorway as you take the mats spot,
your the one fading into the wreckage,
sinking away fast before you can find a new direction.
Shattered and vanishing away,
but you never left the rusted doorway,
your looking to escape the battered zone,
you know your grown,
enough to handle the pain on your own.*
May 18, 2016
May 18, 2016 at 10:12 AM UTC
Truths twisted for the conveniece of others
all assumed trusts abondoned
much invested, non respected much love given but nothing back
when will they see how horrible they are
when will they see what they have done
they know not of any other who has ever done what they have
making up stories in their heads
and saying it so much to themselves and others that they believe its true
phone calls of deception, testimonies of lies
framed, defamed and misnamed
one little voice believes
even in the face of all so knowledgeable
one lttle voice knows the truth
thank you little voice
Aug 2, 2012
Aug 2, 2012 at 1:09 PM UTC
"Kids sure are growing larger these days!"
"Drug abuse is hardly seen!"
*"My eyes view only opaque haze...
from the awing abundance of trees!"*
"Not a soul took their life this year!"
"And not one harassed for being queer!"
*"Bullying?
What is this word you say?"*
*"My son is not known for
deceiving tricks,
or time spent in various prisons!"*
*"My daughter is not known
by her shade of lipstick,
in fact, when she speaks
everyone listens!"*
"Not one reason to lock your door!"
*"Avarice defamed, people are content with less,
rejoicing graciously for!"*
*"Did you hear of the major contribution
Of food for the poor?"*
"I took a moment to watch water drops glisten"
*"Predisposed judgements?
Don't make me laugh."*
*"Ink on the skin is an expression,
and a craft!"*
*"Those holes in their skin?
That just means they seek more!"*
*"It never occurred to me
To speak not the truth!"*
*"My government provides safety
without being uncouth"*
*"In fact, the president's never aloof
He's stern in his convictions!"*
*"Our troops have returned
from what they're calling
'the unnecessary war!'"*
*"BP oil are hanging their heads
to the floor!"*
*"And all marine life scrambling to shore,
don't worry, with this sanctuary, we be hoof"*
These things were heard on opposite day
And unless thoughts stray
They'll remain this way.
Don't let it waste, or let it fray
Because it matters right here, right now
Today
Jul 1, 2014
Jul 1, 2014 at 6:14 PM UTC
Act Anonymous
Put on the mask of your true self
Jump of the window and-
Talk with strangers
The true color of humanity is shining-
under the rags of the dumping site
where the dogs of the heaven made are-
mating . the cycle must - go on!
Needless to say,
the mask-
is the true identity
The star dust nebula swirling around
under every passing wheels
gives me chills under my anonymity
Still under the watch of divine intervention
and under the subject of my free will
"Please god close your eyes"
on the ride
i meet strangers with smile and
humans who don't care
there are turns of wormholes
and strong pull of black holes
the star dust nebula strikes again but-
its just a ride.
take a break now. the red signal means it.
-
-
* Break time Story*
Here is story I wanna tell . Just to keep you occupied.
I once met me on the turning of time travel.
I was horrible human because I defamed love for god
and few centuries ago, I was celebrated engineer
I happened to create the god. that was it. its a ride.
-
-
-
honk the horns mr. my man! start your engine, kindly.
Move on forth.
I have strangers to meet because they are with smiles.
Smiles.
Jan 16, 2014
Jan 16, 2014 at 12:31 AM UTC
Ash in my fire
Harness my desire
Cool my flames
This kind of martyrdom has caressed my soul
And at times i wish to be defamed
As insane as that sounds
The solid ground upon which I was standing has been shaken
Transfixed into a new vessel's identity dreaming
I wouldn't be lying if I said that I wish to run screaming
Though with the upgrades coursing my system redeeming
This thought is but fleeting
I wish to know,
do you see this flow clandestine in the making?
With only ephemeral woe,
the words I chose to toss on throes
can only meld into this conviction
For I must confess i look best unkempt
I feel that scruffy look whispers my hidden contempt
This life's diluted, sweet smiles all the while twisted and bent
Don't fret emotions spent now my dearest of loves
I hear a sigh from my brethren above
As they watch me write lines on parchment
inclined to my predisposition
Listen to me now dear, it is not conditioned
and the furthest from fiction
As pretentious as it sounds
I get shivers
With simultaneous joy
As I see your eyes glisten
Nov 3, 2014
Nov 3, 2014 at 6:31 PM UTC
So the time has now come
It's over for you
You're gonna be gone
And there's nothing to do
You always loved hate
You never were known
To be the very best
And you've certainly shown
That your evils and wrongs
Can never be ceased
Always turn the living
Into the deceased
And though it's amoral
And never corrective
I fell it's important
To be reflective
Of a dead lack of mercy
And an ignorance of shame
So that you may be ended
And formally defamed
So here I stand
And not a moment too soon
A squeeze of the trigger
You begin to swoon
You buckle your knees
And fall to the ground
I rise up and scream
"Eternally bound!"
Jan 2, 2013
Jan 2, 2013 at 6:04 PM UTC
when god heard Lennon sing "Imagine,"
it/he/she filed a complaint
with the Human Rights Commissions,
a grievous hurt claimed,
needing omission,
hurtful words, the spirit opined,
his repute, civlly defamed
a direct attack on his divine permissioning
and though his unverifiable existence,
a poor excuse for such a
sid vicious exercise
re his persistence,
he needed humans
the song to excise,
punishment suitable be arranged,
to assuage his hurted feelings,
canons of political correctness
demanded it be whiteout erased
as if history did not matter,
those visible tracks of his trade
no atheist or agnostic here,
having had too many disputations,
face to face confrontations,
about the damnable ironic games
It plays upon "his" human dolls,
by this manic~depressive curmudgeon,
from up above & his vapored flighty humors,
sans rationality,
for god was supplied with omnipotence
but too minuscule an impotent allotment
of the untold power of the
sensibility of the five mortal sensible senses,
the all-in reasons or rhymes,
the electric grid
making humans superior, the ability
to imagine
Imagine a power
so wonderful,
an all-in everything
I am God of myself,
when I imagine
Imagine I wrote this
and then,
I did
imagined that your crinkly eyes laughed
when your read this,
and then,
you did.
imagine that*
Aug 21, 2016
Aug 21, 2016 at 10:37 AM UTC