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"dehumanizing" poems
I never met a storm I didn't like I wish I could say the same for people Though sometimes I think They have as little control Of what they destroy As storms I think I could love anyone, that shared a mountain coast with me. Those rocks and rivers and beachfront caves? I feel like a pirate. And I believe not caring what others think, Is a coward's way to self-esteem. You can't make everyone happy That doesn't mean you shouldn't try. I can seem cold But what you're hearing Is precision It makes sense when you love words And hate being misunderstood. I hate when people argue to be right Instead of understand It's self-indulgent And dehumanizing And so very me. I'm such a nerd I'd need another poem to convey how much But I think it will suffice to say If you like Will McAvoy The Dragonborn Charles Spurgeon Vault Dwellers or the Crystal Gems We'll probably get along. And lastly I only wrote this poem Because I hate not having an answer To "tell me about yourself."
0
Aug 29, 2015
Aug 29, 2015 at 8:25 AM UTC
"Tell Me About Yourself"
I stop in my tracks,           Listening   A hollow clinking in the darkness. In an alleyway, somewhat familiar, Vacant and forgotten in the twilight hours Except for the lingering cigarette smoke And the scent of frigid, dehumanizing hate   And a clink Low and somehow beneath the dense, dank dark   A sound disillusioning and honed to a fine point, like that of a blade meant to harvest death   A clink And another clink                            There is a man sitting near the end of the alley                            At the back of the throat of Hell itself                            He has his head down                            But through the thick black smudge of night                            I can still see the base of a brown glass bottle tap the bottom of an upper row of teeth He stops, and looks up at me with eyes that resemble mine a little too much for my comfort                                     He brings the bottle down, and lowers his head, gazing at it as if for the first time                                     Suddenly he snaps his eyes up to mine, instantly staring into the deep void of apathy that looks back.                                     He smiles a knowing smile, and slams the bottle against his teeth.               It does much more than clink.
0
May 7, 2016
May 7, 2016 at 5:36 PM UTC
Sins of the Father
I stop in my tracks,           Listening   A hollow clinking in the darkness. In an alleyway, somewhat familiar, Vacant and forgotten in the twilight hours Except for the lingering cigarette smoke And the scent of frigid, dehumanizing hate   And a clink Low and somehow beneath the dense, dank dark   A sound disillusioning and honed to a fine point, like that of a blade meant to harvest death   A clink And another clink                            There is a man sitting near the end of the alley                            At the back of the throat of Hell itself                            He has his head down                            But through the thick black smudge of night                            I can still see the base of a brown glass bottle tap the bottom of an upper row of teeth He stops, and looks up at me with eyes that resemble mine a little too much for my comfort                                     He brings the bottle down, and lowers his head, gazing at it as if for the first time                                     Suddenly he snaps his eyes up to mine, instantly staring into the deep void of apathy that looks back.                                     He smiles a knowing smile, and slams the bottle against his teeth.               It does much more than clink.
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23
There is dark magic Here in my attic A magician’s tactics Cause pain emphatic This magician gives me all I can handle Until one day I’m dismantled Like a once lit candle Extinguished by the ice near Ymir Birthing the Titans I fear Bringing death here Morphing me into a rigid wreck Here in the frigid depths I wish I left The violence of violins Lamenting the vile sin Conjured by riled kin Like they’re wild djinn Can’t be muted Only diluted By becoming rooted In thinking stupid Avoiding Cupid To join the putrid The magician concocts potions That excuse my emotions As I forget devotion For a temporary motion The magician gives us difficult obstacles And easily medicated excuses So people won’t make things optimal While purpose eludes them Like Jekyll and Hyde My hackles I hide With shackles of pride Covered in mystic thorns So my wrists are torn From the pain adorned It’s my brain I mourn The magician erects walls so thick They separate healers from the sick With magic bricks Imbued by the magician’s enchantment He builds a wall and then expands it Until those inside become tantric From the prison wall’s antics Every time I turn the page I am given rage On the magician’s stage Of the wars we wage Under a curse of anger Dehumanizing strangers To deploy the Army Rangers Perpetuating harming danger The magician lies The magician steals The magician hides What is real Until I feel The cold steel The magician wields Piercing through my electrified body I guess the magician finally caught me
0
Mar 14, 2019
Mar 14, 2019 at 6:42 PM UTC
Magician
There is dark magic Here in my attic A magician’s tactics Cause pain emphatic This magician gives me all I can handle Until one day I’m dismantled Like a once lit candle Extinguished by the ice near Ymir Birthing the Titans I fear Bringing death here Morphing me into a rigid wreck Here in the frigid depths I wish I left The violence of violins Lamenting the vile sin Conjured by riled kin Like they’re wild djinn Can’t be muted Only diluted By becoming rooted In thinking stupid Avoiding Cupid To join the putrid The magician concocts potions That excuse my emotions As I forget devotion For a temporary motion The magician gives us difficult obstacles And easily medicated excuses So people won’t make things optimal While purpose eludes them Like Jekyll and Hyde My hackles I hide With shackles of pride Covered in mystic thorns So my wrists are torn From the pain adorned It’s my brain I mourn The magician erects walls so thick They separate healers from the sick With magic bricks Imbued by the magician’s enchantment He builds a wall and then expands it Until those inside become tantric From the prison wall’s antics Every time I turn the page I am given rage On the magician’s stage Of the wars we wage Under a curse of anger Dehumanizing strangers To deploy the Army Rangers Perpetuating harming danger The magician lies The magician steals The magician hides What is real Until I feel The cold steel The magician wields Piercing through my electrified body I guess the magician finally caught me
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62
feeling claustrophobic in isolation, and like the lone survivor in crowds, you can't sleep naturally at night, you need medication to drown out your thoughts that bring sorrowful sounds. in your ears ring those melodies of realism, that sing solely of failure and defeat, these songs written with melancholy chords, that only seem to loop and repeat. the process so dehumanizing, you can't progress through the morbid cycle anymore, so you press a barrel to the roof of your mouth, as stress neatly lines up and files out the door. cold metal had never tasted so sweet, and in these final moments, part of your cement core splits, rainwater finally leaks in and your thirst is quenched as it fills your lonely heart, the desolate desert ditch. feeling something real for the first time since who knows when, only at this time, the moment of your end. however, in your death your depression becomes recycled, and now the numbing blanket will be passed to another, until the day someone strong enough possesses it, so it can be burned above amber flames, resting in ash along with its true color, black.
0
Jan 20, 2015
Jan 20, 2015 at 6:59 PM UTC
The Numbing Blanket
oh **** i just had another thought. when kaepernick kneels to express distress at his country's injustices against minorities, (and for christ's sake if you believe there is no injustice then i don't know what to say to you) in a quiet, legal, non-violent expression, a demand for unity, equality, he is booed. made fun of. called a traitor. entitled. disrespectful. unpatriotic. everyone loses their godforsaken minds because a black man with money kneeled. for fuck's sake, people wake the **** up. you know what's disrespectful? violence. inciting violence. you know what's unpatriotic? denigrating entire groups of human beings. entitled? if equality is special treatment then i guess so. i'm bout ready to take the ******* knee myself, seeing the rampant, jovial racism, sexism, classism. the absolute pride people in my country are taking in marginalizing, dehumanizing, belittling, assaulting. it's disgusting. without a doubt i will take the ******* knee.
0
Oct 22, 2016
Oct 22, 2016 at 9:21 PM UTC
ready to take the knee.
Application of misinformation Falsify a failed nation, Eradication of all creation Misinterpretation Of representation Deny the station Granted by occupation And the inhalation Of justification No prerequisite information Just accumulation No moderation, Their determination Through stimulation Cultural ************ Communal degradation Societal desecration, Dehumanizing revocation, Worldly humiliation, Mortal sterilization Never achieving mobilization Lack of communication Excelling in vile persuasion, Proponents of procreation Birthing digitization, Destroy civilization, Indications of adoration Isolation in delineation, Irrational indexation, Fluctuating indignation, No innovation, Divination Retaliation, Immolation, False ovation, Lacking limitations, Contextual intonation, Divine fabrication, Private publication, Evolving fornication, Give me extermination, Notwithstanding annexation Of dismaying oxidation, Of valued perpetuation, Global mass-castration, Redundant rhetoric, dictation, A donation, a dilation, a fixation, An annotation of fibrillation, We are personification Of Contamination Through globalization Praising idolization And finalization Through ********** No pragmatic exoneration, In all frustration We see not utilization Nor stabilization, Fearful implications Of wayward stations, Surplus mutilations, Seeking militarization Of worthless nations, No conservation, Just excavation Of the population ******** on education, Spitting on graduation, No validation of aspiration, Indoctrination of baptization Mitigating litigation, murdering habitation, Quelling all vegetation We will end in radiation Through faulty navigation, Abdication and abnegation, All worldly agitation Leads us to expiration, Self-made annihilation. There was never an end in sight, We’re lost, and hope is a lie.
0
Aug 31, 2016
Aug 31, 2016 at 8:14 PM UTC
We're Lost.
Application of misinformation Falsify a failed nation, Eradication of all creation Misinterpretation Of representation Deny the station Granted by occupation And the inhalation Of justification No prerequisite information Just accumulation No moderation, Their determination Through stimulation Cultural ************ Communal degradation Societal desecration, Dehumanizing revocation, Worldly humiliation, Mortal sterilization Never achieving mobilization Lack of communication Excelling in vile persuasion, Proponents of procreation Birthing digitization, Destroy civilization, Indications of adoration Isolation in delineation, Irrational indexation, Fluctuating indignation, No innovation, Divination Retaliation, Immolation, False ovation, Lacking limitations, Contextual intonation, Divine fabrication, Private publication, Evolving fornication, Give me extermination, Notwithstanding annexation Of dismaying oxidation, Of valued perpetuation, Global mass-castration, Redundant rhetoric, dictation, A donation, a dilation, a fixation, An annotation of fibrillation, We are personification Of Contamination Through globalization Praising idolization And finalization Through ********** No pragmatic exoneration, In all frustration We see not utilization Nor stabilization, Fearful implications Of wayward stations, Surplus mutilations, Seeking militarization Of worthless nations, No conservation, Just excavation Of the population ******** on education, Spitting on graduation, No validation of aspiration, Indoctrination of baptization Mitigating litigation, murdering habitation, Quelling all vegetation We will end in radiation Through faulty navigation, Abdication and abnegation, All worldly agitation Leads us to expiration, Self-made annihilation. There was never an end in sight, We’re lost, and hope is a lie.
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81
There's a void for the intellectual when poor Awareness only makes it worse Knowing the socio-political mechanism Controlling us and keeping our physical bodies bound Only begs our mind to give up its emancipationist stronghold The Spirit is only torn between A socio-politically created reality And the dis-associated self-edification of blind opportunity and hope Becoming politically and sociologically aware Of our "selves" within the context Of our society is dangerous Crippling, knowing the power behind the scenes Submission corners an individual into indoctrination Amorality seems to be the make-up of the seemingly strong When every fiber of morality is subtly stolen To assimilate into or right the wrong Of the ******* up socio-political mechanism of our world Either way, there's no way out You're always tainted with the plague of amorality The spirit is bought and sold For the commercialization of it is dehumanizing to all Any which way it can be analyzed The rationality of the mind Is dismantled piece by piece Until it is absent from coherent thought Knowledge is a weapon dangerous to the enemy As well as the self For truth is a burden deadly to the bound By Disenfranchisement
0
Jun 2, 2011
Jun 2, 2011 at 5:08 AM UTC
Mechanisms of the Disenfranchised Spirit
the world is adorned with a million windows the bleakest night has a thousand eyes daylight shines into the globes darkest corners truth will ultimately expose all lies NASA’s satellites circle Tropic of Cancer latitudes cameras pinpoint the disease metastasizing in the body of Homs from stratospheric limits sensitive lenses read the names magic markers have scrawled onto white sheets covering the dead YouTube gets Oscar consideration for grisly cinematography a real-time visceral docudrama of panting fascists gleefully tramping through the desecrated streets coolly administering a coup de gras to a city on its knees, pleading release from an **** of incessant bloodletting twitter records desperate tweets the batting wings of endangered flocks furiously thumbing into the blogosphere calls for UN intervention that falls on blind eyes BBC reportage, the global gold standard for journalistic excellence scoops the stories of London based FSA partisans awaiting repatriation to scatter Bashar’s Kodachrome killers Has the All Seeing Eye who has graced us with sight laughingly curse us with vision? Does the One Caring Eye of the Universe bless us with perception to haunt us with images? Has The One Thats Sees Everything blinked closed the eye of compassion? Has the horror of Homs become too much even for The Universal Eye of Love? the opened eyes of a dead child reflects our cold winter of indifference demoralizing dehumanizing a watching world Music Selection Grateful Dead Eyes of the World Oakland 3/2/12 jbm
0
Mar 2, 2012
Mar 2, 2012 at 12:04 PM UTC
Watching Homs
the world is adorned with a million windows the bleakest night has a thousand eyes daylight shines into the globes darkest corners truth will ultimately expose all lies NASA’s satellites circle Tropic of Cancer latitudes cameras pinpoint the disease metastasizing in the body of Homs from stratospheric limits sensitive lenses read the names magic markers have scrawled onto white sheets covering the dead YouTube gets Oscar consideration for grisly cinematography a real-time visceral docudrama of panting fascists gleefully tramping through the desecrated streets coolly administering a coup de gras to a city on its knees, pleading release from an **** of incessant bloodletting twitter records desperate tweets the batting wings of endangered flocks furiously thumbing into the blogosphere calls for UN intervention that falls on blind eyes BBC reportage, the global gold standard for journalistic excellence scoops the stories of London based FSA partisans awaiting repatriation to scatter Bashar’s Kodachrome killers Has the All Seeing Eye who has graced us with sight laughingly curse us with vision? Does the One Caring Eye of the Universe bless us with perception to haunt us with images? Has The One Thats Sees Everything blinked closed the eye of compassion? Has the horror of Homs become too much even for The Universal Eye of Love? the opened eyes of a dead child reflects our cold winter of indifference demoralizing dehumanizing a watching world Music Selection Grateful Dead Eyes of the World Oakland 3/2/12 jbm
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57
She’s shiny. No, not like a diamond, or a new toy, or when you polish a glass just right. … Not even quite like a star. She’s just… s h i n y. To call her a beacon of hope, of joy, of anything would be patronizing, would be dehumanizing, maybe even fetishizing and associating any of those words with her makes you cringe, makes you ache with rage at yourself, but - She. Shines. She is the agonizing sun in your eyes when you are driving and the sunbeams that feed the flowers in your garden. both the highlight of your day and also the worst part for the warmth in your chest, the fire in your heart, You suppress and deny until you are almost fool enough to believe yourself when you say “i’m not in love, i’m not in love, i’m not in love”    She shines She shines so bright it hurts, but you want it to hurt, you can’t imagine it any other way So you burn, and you burn alone, and maybe always will, because the words dancing inside you - “Hi, my name is - ” “I like your skirt” “What was the homework for Spanish?” “Hey! I noticed the scratch down your arm, I also have a cat - actually, I have three” - die before they reach your tongue.                             … she’s probably straight, anyway.
0
Mar 18, 2018
Mar 18, 2018 at 5:18 AM UTC
Sonnet Of A Queer Girl
Why Why why why I left because of all that happened but I was banned anyways for "dehumanizing" you I said nothing i was silent I'm sorry for what ever i did I'm sorry that I broke your heart and I made you feel like less of a person I just want to know why banning me was valid. why would you manipulate the mods like that? what the ****
0
Dec 21, 2015
Dec 21, 2015 at 4:25 AM UTC
What the ****
Every day, as the clock strikes ten You march into the office Swinging your arms back and forth In a crude imitation of Herr ****** As the eyes of every employee Focus on your cold, black ones As if by magic A deafening silence fills the office As Hope turns into Despair Trust turns into Betrayal Confidence turns into Insecurities Love turns into Hate And Peace turns into Pieces As your ringing voice fills the air Resulting in a cacophony Louder than those infernal firecrackers Everybody's worst nightmare comes true As you yell at your team Mocking all their painstaking efforts Dehumanizing them with casteist remarks Your voice cuts into their feelings Like a knife through butter Leaving wounds so deep That the scars shine brightly For the rest of their lives You are not an employer You are a cruel, sadistic tyrant Hiding behind the facade Of a concerned maternal figure However, as with all tyrants The day will eventually arrive When you are toppled From your lofty throne Your business will sink Just as the Titanic did You will be in huge debt Your ill-gotten gains evaporating into thin air As your erstwhile employees have their last laugh It is you, who will be left With wounds so deep That the scars shine brightly For the rest of your miserable life
0
Mar 26, 2019
Mar 26, 2019 at 10:59 AM UTC
Poem to my best friend's boss
They run. They scream. They beg for help. Their homes are burned. The women are ***** The children are tortured. Everyone is killed. A savior amidst the government and yet her lips sit on top of each other, only opening to condemn the persecuted Rohingya... A Nobel Peace Prize winner revealing herself as an assailant of ethics. The Rohingya. The humans denied aid by almost every brother and sister, THOUSANDS of men, women, children, are drowning, burning, pleaing for mercy, as you sit in your comfy chair and read this poem, as i sit in this bed writing this poem. The Rohingya are looking into the eyes of a Buddhist state; looking down the barrel of a gun pointed at them from infancy. An entire culture dedicated to dehumanizing humans... An entire coalition of states conforming to locking the Rohingya out... A state committing textbook genocide. A world subduing to textbook ignorance. And the Rohingya fighting for the right to live For the right to be Human The Rohingya must not flee, nor fear persecution, for We shall stand by the Rohingya!
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Sep 17, 2017
Sep 17, 2017 at 10:59 PM UTC
The Rohingya Flee
I have seen the future of our world. I have seen the sunrise of tomorrow. I have seen Muslims shake hands with Christians. I have seen hope buried beneath the rubble in Aleppo. I have seen a world come full circle back into each other's arms, like two lover's that are meant to be together, but have been at war for so long they can't remember why. I have looked into the eyes of all God's creatures and have seen that spark. That light that shines so brilliantly it must be a soul. Because nothing else fuels that kind of hope. Nothing else stops you dead in your tracks and makes you see that we are all one. We are all connected. To each other, and to this beautiful planet we call home. If more people stared into the eyes of the people they hated, maybe we wouldn't erase hate altogether, but we would strengthen tolerance. Maybe then we would stop dehumanizing each other, and start complimenting each other instead. Maybe our children wouldn't come home from school crying, or in trouble because they want to build a wall, or send Muslims back to Islam. Maybe, our daughters wouldn't have to worry about being ******* by men because her skirt was just to short. I have seen the future. The future doesn't look like this present. The future is bright. The future is ready for peace.
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Nov 30, 2016
Nov 30, 2016 at 5:42 PM UTC
Peace on Earth
Looking to the screen *The ****** of the masses* Numbing us Dehumanizing Oh to live In the age of ice cream
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Jun 26, 2015
Jun 26, 2015 at 10:17 PM UTC
Dehumanize
Dear customers, I had no idea my name was Dear,  honey,  baby Or hey, you Thank you for informing and dehumanizing me By giving me these new titles which you deem appropriate Just because I am a woman Or a person who is serving the likes of you. Dear customers, Holiday season is supposed to be joyous Just because you feel you can indulge Doesn't mean you need to order everything on the menu I mean hey, I get it Who am I to judge your life choices? After all, I work in fast food So that must mean I am lazy and incompetent Right? Dear customers, Specifically, teenage boys. I don't quite know who you're trying to impress But none of us find it funny when you Scream into the drive thru speaker. Or make a mess of our lobby Or order $40 worth your weight in beef And deep-fried delicacies Fifteen minutes before closing time. Dear customers, The next time you throw money at me Your hand comes with it. I am not a piggy bank with a slit in my side Nor am I a fountain for you to toss your spare change into. You can take the extra half a second to place your fee into my hand Thank you. Dear customers, Here's the section where I discuss the ****** old men who hit on me. Some classic charmer's that sent me head over heals are "Your voice is so **** you should be a phone *** operator" -Anonymous ******* about 45 And "Why don't you lean over the counter and let me spank you" -Secret **** bag, closer to 50 That is just scratching the surface But you get the idea. Dear customers, The answer to "How are you today?" Is not "I'll take a number three" With a scowl on your face. However, it is also not "Oh well my sister's dog died" "And my chiropractor's daughter's son has a doctor's appointment today" "Oh, and did you see the medal my grandson won?" Why can no one ever answer a simple "Lovely, thanks, and you?" Dear customers, Sorry to burst your egotistical bubbles But you are not always right. Dear customers, Lastly, If I clearly have one foot out the door It does not mean ask me for something. I am no longer indebted to you. I'm out. Goodbye.
0
Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 8:26 PM UTC
Ode to Food Services
Dear customers, I had no idea my name was Dear,  honey,  baby Or hey, you Thank you for informing and dehumanizing me By giving me these new titles which you deem appropriate Just because I am a woman Or a person who is serving the likes of you. Dear customers, Holiday season is supposed to be joyous Just because you feel you can indulge Doesn't mean you need to order everything on the menu I mean hey, I get it Who am I to judge your life choices? After all, I work in fast food So that must mean I am lazy and incompetent Right? Dear customers, Specifically, teenage boys. I don't quite know who you're trying to impress But none of us find it funny when you Scream into the drive thru speaker. Or make a mess of our lobby Or order $40 worth your weight in beef And deep-fried delicacies Fifteen minutes before closing time. Dear customers, The next time you throw money at me Your hand comes with it. I am not a piggy bank with a slit in my side Nor am I a fountain for you to toss your spare change into. You can take the extra half a second to place your fee into my hand Thank you. Dear customers, Here's the section where I discuss the ****** old men who hit on me. Some classic charmer's that sent me head over heals are "Your voice is so **** you should be a phone *** operator" -Anonymous ******* about 45 And "Why don't you lean over the counter and let me spank you" -Secret **** bag, closer to 50 That is just scratching the surface But you get the idea. Dear customers, The answer to "How are you today?" Is not "I'll take a number three" With a scowl on your face. However, it is also not "Oh well my sister's dog died" "And my chiropractor's daughter's son has a doctor's appointment today" "Oh, and did you see the medal my grandson won?" Why can no one ever answer a simple "Lovely, thanks, and you?" Dear customers, Sorry to burst your egotistical bubbles But you are not always right. Dear customers, Lastly, If I clearly have one foot out the door It does not mean ask me for something. I am no longer indebted to you. I'm out. Goodbye.
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66
Reading bad poetry, writing bad poetry, existing as a subpar slice of unemotional prose. I'm a singsong last-ditch singalong; ding-dong-ditch me, ***** me out. Slice me up and lay me out to dry. I cut onions: I don't cry. You ignore me: I don't mind. Remember me as a sad story and not a person. It'll be gratifying, albeit dehumanizing, patronizing, but at least you'll be sympathizing as I'm unsurprisingly capsizing. Right now I'm realizing that I wanna be the hungry waves and not the sinking ship; the sharp harpoon and not unfortunate Moby **** I wanna be the brick instead of the window pane; I wanna be the ****** sword and not the bleeding slain. So the inferiority complex that's been harrowingly ingrained inside of my needlessly idle brain can **** off once again, because I'm gonna be the poet now, not the reader, page, nor pen.
0
Aug 8, 2016
Aug 8, 2016 at 11:44 PM UTC
it's 11:44 pm and i'm watching men's gymnastics
As excited to return as he was to leave Bright eyes such bright eyes He senses my pain We enter... .... He skips to his drink Downs it in one Plods off to corner Flops down in the cool shade Raising a quizzical eyebrow Then doses off with a contented sigh .... Click, click of the mouse The key to the asylum gate turns The inmates scream out beyond my screen Some live in heaven others in hell Perversely I sit here Omnipresent My fingers jabbing at the keyboard Harvesting the daily cruelties of mankind Kind of "men" I'm sick At least sickened I SEE WAR LOTS OF HIDEOUS WAR TWISTED CORPSES INSANITY GRIEF I see twisted politicians pretending to care Banks rubbing their hands with glee Arms manufacturers celebrating bonuses I see death equals money for some Lots of death = Lots of money Kids shelled on a beach, hospitals destroyed "well they use human shields" So that must mean those humans are worthless? I see a death toll of 1400...and RISING! I see no God I see genocide Clicking and typing just makes it worse Calling each other "dogs" a repeated curse Dogs! Dehumanizing the enemy For the purpose of easy slaughter. The devoted mother and father The innocent son and daughter Where is this God? Either/ any version will do Or is it all about NOTHING! Nothing but ********** and greed. Click, click... ISIS When will humanity wake up
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Aug 1, 2014
Aug 1, 2014 at 6:21 PM UTC
Dog (Part 3)
I'm back ******* which I happen to say pleases me yes I know technically I'm cursing but that saying empowers me it makes me feel strong as if nothing can stop me I'm back ******* dehumanizing you strengthens me as if I am something more than what they told me I'm back bitches as if I was ever here in the first place Just making me feel like I will accomplish something I'm back ******* now say if after me We're back bitches and this time we will never stop being We're back bitches It's time we show you what being a ***** really means We're back bitches try to stop us now
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Mar 15, 2016
Mar 15, 2016 at 11:01 PM UTC
I'm Back *******
As a child they warned you, that you should never talk to strangers for they do you no good. As a child they told you that, if a boy makes fun of you its normal even to the point that you start questioning yourself at such a young age. As a child they told you that, fat is the most insulting word to ever exist in the dictionary. As a child they told you that, you should to be kind to others but no one told you that this world is filled with cruel people lurking around in hopes to destroy you and your happiness. As a child they told you that, if you're a girl you should only be playing with a doll and if your a guy you should only stick with your race car... instilling into our young minds who we should be and neglecting who we really are. As a child they told you that, love is the greatest thing you could ever do to yourself but no one told you that the minute that person leaves you for another one; your world also cracks. As a child they told you that, if you do well in school and that if you ace all those exams you'll feel good but hey, no one told me that i have to fight the battle with my own mental health and future because you always have to remind me that grades future... grades future. give me a break. As a child they told you that, if an old man compliments you about how **** you are and how good those jeans looks on you, you should feel the need to thanked them well **** those people who created that concept. As a child they told you that, monsters aren't real that they're nothing but mere works of our imagination but then i met you; you destroyed me and every inch of my veins. Instead of always dehumanizing us because apparently we're-- too young to question the authority too young to speak out too young to see the problem too young to even live.
0
Oct 20, 2015
Oct 20, 2015 at 3:01 PM UTC
''An Open Letter: To Every Child''
As a child they warned you, that you should never talk to strangers for they do you no good. As a child they told you that, if a boy makes fun of you its normal even to the point that you start questioning yourself at such a young age. As a child they told you that, fat is the most insulting word to ever exist in the dictionary. As a child they told you that, you should to be kind to others but no one told you that this world is filled with cruel people lurking around in hopes to destroy you and your happiness. As a child they told you that, if you're a girl you should only be playing with a doll and if your a guy you should only stick with your race car... instilling into our young minds who we should be and neglecting who we really are. As a child they told you that, love is the greatest thing you could ever do to yourself but no one told you that the minute that person leaves you for another one; your world also cracks. As a child they told you that, if you do well in school and that if you ace all those exams you'll feel good but hey, no one told me that i have to fight the battle with my own mental health and future because you always have to remind me that grades future... grades future. give me a break. As a child they told you that, if an old man compliments you about how **** you are and how good those jeans looks on you, you should feel the need to thanked them well **** those people who created that concept. As a child they told you that, monsters aren't real that they're nothing but mere works of our imagination but then i met you; you destroyed me and every inch of my veins. Instead of always dehumanizing us because apparently we're-- too young to question the authority too young to speak out too young to see the problem too young to even live.
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60
I stop in my tracks, Listening A hollow clinking in the darkness In an alleyway, somewhat familiar Vacant and forgotten in the twilight hours Except for the lingering cigarette smoke And the scent of dehumanizing hate And a clink Low and somehow beneath the dense, dank dark A sound disillusioning and honed to a fine point, like that of a blade meant to harvest death A clink And another clink                                     There is a man sitting near the end of the alley                                     At the back of the throat of Hell itself                                     He has his head down                                     But through the thick black smudge of night                                     I can still see the base of a brown glass bottle tap the bottom of an upper row of teeth He stops, and looks up at me with eyes that resemble mine a little too much for my comfort                                     He brings the bottle down, and lowers his head, gazing at it as if for the first time                                     Suddenly he snaps his eyes up to mine, instantly staring into the deep void that is my soul                                     He smiles a knowing smile, and thrusts the bottle against his teeth one last time.               It does much more than clink.
0
May 26, 2013
May 26, 2013 at 3:17 AM UTC
Sins of the Father
I stop in my tracks, Listening A hollow clinking in the darkness In an alleyway, somewhat familiar Vacant and forgotten in the twilight hours Except for the lingering cigarette smoke And the scent of dehumanizing hate And a clink Low and somehow beneath the dense, dank dark A sound disillusioning and honed to a fine point, like that of a blade meant to harvest death A clink And another clink                                     There is a man sitting near the end of the alley                                     At the back of the throat of Hell itself                                     He has his head down                                     But through the thick black smudge of night                                     I can still see the base of a brown glass bottle tap the bottom of an upper row of teeth He stops, and looks up at me with eyes that resemble mine a little too much for my comfort                                     He brings the bottle down, and lowers his head, gazing at it as if for the first time                                     Suddenly he snaps his eyes up to mine, instantly staring into the deep void that is my soul                                     He smiles a knowing smile, and thrusts the bottle against his teeth one last time.               It does much more than clink.
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22
It's crazy ya know how everything I own can just be wrapped up in boxes trophies and awards pictures and accomplishments all tucked neatly away my favorite pens and pencils stuffed into burlap sacks it's almost like it wasn't real the first 18 years of my life like it was all a game that no matter what I did I'd end up here the only difference being how many trophies were neatly tucked away like my whole life has been a checklist like I was nothing extraordinary there is nothing more dehumanizing than being able to put everything you love in a box it's just weird that it's over it was always going to end but I never thought it would be OVER that's all
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Jul 19, 2014
Jul 19, 2014 at 12:24 AM UTC
Boxes
You've got a lead-filled crown atop your head Tilts forward and backward Like a swaying pendulum Heavy is the head, they say But you'd know better than they would So tell me, how does it feel? To have all the power All the knowledge All the glory? How does it feel To know that every failure Every death Every illness Every act of hatred on this earth Is your fault? To be omnipotent You must accept all actions as your own You are the most responsible For all the actions That have taken place Look in the mirror and see infinity Because you created yourself to create entirety And the best part is All this guilt Will be forgotten All the shame Will be forgotten All the dehumanizing things you feel Will be forgotten And the depth to which you sunk Will be forgotten And the powers you might wield Will be forgotten When you wake For only in dreams Can you control as you did before
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Dec 30, 2013
Dec 30, 2013 at 10:35 PM UTC
Only in dreams
Soft! ( it's a dyin sound A Subtle lonely sigh It shatters the night! HERE WE ARE! -----where are we?----- . Will anybody answer now?) -___- CONTEMPLATING! What? WHAT ARE WE-----contemplating With all our Might? ---- CONTEMPLATING within the soft sigh of The dying as it Sounds ---- -- Will anybody answer now? ------ All images The symbols of olden stories Simply expressed So that the truth of the day Might be seen Known And dealt with -- These are useless now . We are left to our own devices We must speak clearly WE MUST ANSWER ALL QUESTIONS WITH TOTAL HONESTY AND COURAGE We must enter the story.! We must stand true to what we are CONTEMPLATING! .. There can be no disconnections No obscuration No hiding No lying . We are to be ONE WITH THE DYING -- It is Our sighs sounding -- The QUESTION LONG LINGERS we must answer now ---- -- Wake up kids! You are not an EXTRA In some phoney tv advertisement A product! A mere HUMAN ***** Seeking love In a sterile high school environment Attempting To end the boredom of your parent's Mastorbatory existence Within their enslavement To capitalism and its dehumanizing games! -- You are put here------FREE! . To think for yourself To LOVE as yourself . To hear and to heed The dying! The soft sighs Of lovers The subtle new images Formed out of the remnants Of all the criminally unnecessary suffering --- Soft! The dying sounds Yields to REBIRTH'S SONG Sung aloud By the FREE SOULS the DARING LOVELY COURAGEOUS CHILDREN (Such as yourselves) --- Racing thru the corridors Out to the streets Leading to whatever it is YOU ARE CONTEMPLATING do not be afraid to say it now -- THE WORLD IS YOURS do not be afraid to say so, Now
0
May 1, 2013
May 1, 2013 at 9:32 PM UTC
dying sounds
Soft! ( it's a dyin sound A Subtle lonely sigh It shatters the night! HERE WE ARE! -----where are we?----- . Will anybody answer now?) -___- CONTEMPLATING! What? WHAT ARE WE-----contemplating With all our Might? ---- CONTEMPLATING within the soft sigh of The dying as it Sounds ---- -- Will anybody answer now? ------ All images The symbols of olden stories Simply expressed So that the truth of the day Might be seen Known And dealt with -- These are useless now . We are left to our own devices We must speak clearly WE MUST ANSWER ALL QUESTIONS WITH TOTAL HONESTY AND COURAGE We must enter the story.! We must stand true to what we are CONTEMPLATING! .. There can be no disconnections No obscuration No hiding No lying . We are to be ONE WITH THE DYING -- It is Our sighs sounding -- The QUESTION LONG LINGERS we must answer now ---- -- Wake up kids! You are not an EXTRA In some phoney tv advertisement A product! A mere HUMAN ***** Seeking love In a sterile high school environment Attempting To end the boredom of your parent's Mastorbatory existence Within their enslavement To capitalism and its dehumanizing games! -- You are put here------FREE! . To think for yourself To LOVE as yourself . To hear and to heed The dying! The soft sighs Of lovers The subtle new images Formed out of the remnants Of all the criminally unnecessary suffering --- Soft! The dying sounds Yields to REBIRTH'S SONG Sung aloud By the FREE SOULS the DARING LOVELY COURAGEOUS CHILDREN (Such as yourselves) --- Racing thru the corridors Out to the streets Leading to whatever it is YOU ARE CONTEMPLATING do not be afraid to say it now -- THE WORLD IS YOURS do not be afraid to say so, Now
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102
I'm Aurianna. I'm so many things actually, it all depends on who you ask. To myself... at times I am destruction. My emotions destroy. I am hurt. I am only 18, who did you want me to be? You abused me. You destroyed me for a time, and yet still all the time. I want to be free. Did I build these chains link by link or did you help me? You beat me physically while she beat me mentally. The perfect destructive team you two made. All without realizing. All without each other. Yet at times I am strong, I stand tall to protect others. Although a single person can raise their voice to me and I shatter into a million little pieces. I never amount to other peoples expectations of me, so in return, I am looked down upon. My whole life really. The secret abuse that led to many failures. I have so many problems that I cannot fathom enough to put into words. I fail at expressing how I feel because I don't know how. You never taught me how. They ask me whose fault it is that I am like this. I say it's mine. Why? Because I'm eighteen. In the eyes of the law, I am officially an adult. Responsible for only myself. Am I falling apart yet again? Or have I never actually been quite pieced together? Do I accept your screaming, dehumanizing comments and threats for the hope that someday, just someday I will be granted parental affection? Or do I not deserve that either? Do I deserve better? Because I really don't know. You're sorry... that I know. You have said it many times before. Only to turn around and do the same things you've already apologized for. Feeling is what makes me human, but too much of anything is cancer to the heart. Your words hurt me. They always have. Worse than any beating I have and will endure. Your words are my cancer. I am fighting for my freedom. With or without you. For I have always been alone. I have found my strength in that. Because I am me.
0
Feb 19, 2019
Feb 19, 2019 at 4:16 PM UTC
Invisible Chains
I'm Aurianna. I'm so many things actually, it all depends on who you ask. To myself... at times I am destruction. My emotions destroy. I am hurt. I am only 18, who did you want me to be? You abused me. You destroyed me for a time, and yet still all the time. I want to be free. Did I build these chains link by link or did you help me? You beat me physically while she beat me mentally. The perfect destructive team you two made. All without realizing. All without each other. Yet at times I am strong, I stand tall to protect others. Although a single person can raise their voice to me and I shatter into a million little pieces. I never amount to other peoples expectations of me, so in return, I am looked down upon. My whole life really. The secret abuse that led to many failures. I have so many problems that I cannot fathom enough to put into words. I fail at expressing how I feel because I don't know how. You never taught me how. They ask me whose fault it is that I am like this. I say it's mine. Why? Because I'm eighteen. In the eyes of the law, I am officially an adult. Responsible for only myself. Am I falling apart yet again? Or have I never actually been quite pieced together? Do I accept your screaming, dehumanizing comments and threats for the hope that someday, just someday I will be granted parental affection? Or do I not deserve that either? Do I deserve better? Because I really don't know. You're sorry... that I know. You have said it many times before. Only to turn around and do the same things you've already apologized for. Feeling is what makes me human, but too much of anything is cancer to the heart. Your words hurt me. They always have. Worse than any beating I have and will endure. Your words are my cancer. I am fighting for my freedom. With or without you. For I have always been alone. I have found my strength in that. Because I am me.
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47
Insecurity In a world full of ugliness, lies, and deceit. From my mother's mouth "I hate you." "You're the devil." "You're flat chested.""You're a whore.""You're fat." From the beautiful, voluptuous, intelligent girls, I compare myself to From my ex-boyfriends, who made jokes about my body I'll never be good enough, because society has a distorted view of how we should look, act, think, and feel. Social media has plagued our minds with irrelevant garbage and has provided a stage for public degradation. We are victims to its unexplainable gander. With such a heavy influence on appearance, people everywhere are striving to look like celebrities. With the promotion of insecurity, loving yourself is one of the hardest challenges to conquer. Telling yourself "I'm worthy," is inconceivable. We consume ourselves with obsessions, making confidence unachievable. It's an endless cycle of demeaning others to make ourselves feel adequate. We can also choose to cope with self harm or suicide. The utterance, "No one can save you, but yourself." Very few people reap positivity. Very few people will encourage you. Dehumanizing you Humiliating you Degrading you Try not to feel angry, Try not to feel depressed. Maybe one day we'll overcome this, but self-loathing is what we do best.
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Aug 6, 2015
Aug 6, 2015 at 1:01 PM UTC
I know you've heard this before.