"demonstration" poems
Could it be that I substitute lustful infatuation for love? or mistake an act of kindness for trust?
Using his words to define me, i mean refine me, leaving the real me in the dust
Can you really blame me for being attracted to someone who shows interest in my existence
Someone who is persistent, consistent and whose smile breaks my resistance
It's a real feeling I get of satisfaction through common conversation of nothingness
The willingness to waste time with me means something to me if not everything for me because time can not be given back
Sorry your interest in my existence was nonexistent, guess in the 90's being a father was wack.
Respect from hoes was worth more than respect from your daughter
If it was up to you, if you were her, you would have probably said "abort her"
You knew I was a girl and that I'd be your first daughter but that wasn't enough for you
You had 9 months which turned into 1 plus twenty now you're begging for my heart to attend to it's broken it needs amends too, a man too?
So I'm looking at guy after guy to cut into some deep hurting pain from my past
Not realizing that they can't give me what I'm missing cause I can't miss what I never had
I asked God for a brother but I never got em
When I was 8 I wanted to meet my Father but I never saw em
After that, just like everything you cant change in life, you learn to accept
Accept and move on not accept and dwell in it
Yet I found myself looking for what I lacked in a male figure in a young boy
I didn't know it yet but my innocence he would destroy
How can you be sure about love and if you're in it, if there is no demonstration clearly displayed to see
How can i be sure that he loves me for me, not what i give or what i can be but everything that I am if I haven't truly accepted me for me
I long to feel love from a man who created me with his *****
Not physical love from a boy with a toy in it ***** I'm talking something long term
Deeply invested in things that cannot be returned or given back
Like time, memories, laughs, tears, words, or the lack...thereof
Apr 21, 2015
Apr 21, 2015 at 4:42 PM UTC
The greatest demonstration of freedom in the history of the nation.
Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation.
A great beacon light of hope.
Seared in the flames of withering justice.
One hundred years later, the ***** still is not free.
We’ve come to our nation’s capital to cash a check.
This note was the promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white, men, would be guaranteed the unalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.
It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her citizens of color are concerned.
Now is the time to make real promises of democracy.
Now is the time to make injustice a reality for all of God’s children.
There will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the ***** is granted his citizen rights.
In the process of gaining our rightful place, we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds.
I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations.
You have been veterans of creative suffering.
Go back, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed.
I say to you today, even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream.
A deeply rooted american dream.
A dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal.”
I have a dream where little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin, but by the context of their character.
I have a dream today!
That little black boys and girls, will be able to join hands with little white boys and girls as brothers and sisters.
I have a dream today!
The rough places will be plain and the crooked places will be made straight, “and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together."
This is our hope.
This is the faith I go back with.
With this faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood.
When we allow freedom to ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God’s children --- black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics --- will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old ***** spiritual, “Free at last. Free at last. Thank God Almighty, we are free at last.”
Oct 26, 2017
Oct 26, 2017 at 8:26 AM UTC
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QUIVER ALL-MAXIMIZING
SAMUEL DAVID <[email protected]>
3:38 AM (56 minutes ago)
to Daniel
SOAR OWNERSHIP
/ UTTERANCES OUTLABOURED PILGRIMS/
By the creditor at cyprus and on other grounds:
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Jun 11, 2018
Jun 11, 2018 at 7:44 AM UTC
Hormones raging...for what I'm told not to engage in, even if we're engaged, if it's not official than its still revealed as...fornication. There's a disturbing underestimation of the result given for this particular sinful demonstration, society has taught us that we test the car before we drive it, but the 1st issue with this analogy told is that we're comparing human sin to...driving a vehicle? But if we're going to establish analogies on this subject , then, well, why don’t we also consider these: do we begin eating Thanksgiving dinner before were done saying grace? Do they hand out diplomas and degrees for classes you haven't passed yet? Do they give Super Bowl trophies to teams expected to win? So how do we justify receiving the prize of an unmet process? Far too many have allowed marriage to become an afterthought or not even a passing idea our better judgment caught because man had rather receive a temporary pleasure that sin conceives birthed in disobedience, deceptive grip around your conscience until your choked by the demands of a lustful flesh that wants to be fed in continual expedience. Or...Maybe, I’m just being a hater, fighting not to be twistedly envious and curious of a world that I’m forbidden to embrace. Or Maybe I’m fighting...the temptation and frustration of being a single man patiently searching for that good thing and the favor my Father blesses along with her. Maybe I’m fighting...not to nosedive into the bottomless trap laid for human souls, lured in by lack, of self-control. It troubles me in just how simple... he brags and boasts then plots and plans his next victim in the desecration of his and her Creator’s Temple. But It’s not all his fault, because it was up to her to give him the key to this priceless location better known as her body.
Jan 1, 2018
Jan 1, 2018 at 12:59 PM UTC
A Hug,
How underrated
Available in the avail of a kiss,
Or the escape of one.
At birth
My mother showed me loves worth
Calmed the loudest cries
Hushing me
Just by holding me
Keeping me warm
Through the coldest times
As I grew older
This demonstration became more familiar
With family
So many I managed to manifest
My mannerisms allowed
Long embraces
That mattered so much!
All from a simple touch
The first time…
The first time,
With the one I loved
*********** lacked satisfaction
If after the contraction
We weren’t in each others arms…
Relaxin…
Chest to chest
You hold her
Can two hearts get any closer?
If my only love
Was to take her love away
In the most selfish absurd way
Spurned my love
She still wouldn’t be too stubborn to hug
Once the years have spun away
The best reconciliation
A Hug,
A gesture so benign
Even if I were to express
With my best friend, a canine
Or my only companion, a feline
People still wouldn’t see I
As constructed of **********
Alerting not a soul
Hearts become sole
Even when shared with animals.
Making Love,
Is not limited to ***
Or a kiss,
Instead,
The same bliss
Can be met
With a Hug.
What’s Love, But a Hug?
Oct 1, 2010
Oct 1, 2010 at 12:27 AM UTC
These optical illusions
Create an optimal confusion
When eyes are a welcome intrusion
To the brain's inevitable conclusion
We stared into the mystic mirror
I witnessed everything I ever wanted in life
All you witnessed was just two people standing there
The transparency you cast upon me
Reminded me of how the plumes of **** smoke
Were never as thick as my problems
And as those clouds left my mouth and dispersed into the air
I saw your image
Preserved in briefness
It's a shame how my magician's mind
Summons smoke and mirrors
Nobody else believes me
But magic is the only way to explain you
The way you turned me invisible
Was spectacular
Your methods of sawing me in half
Certainly weren't natural
And your teleportation demonstration
Left me suspended in ice
So I guess I'm to Blaine
For the mirrors I erected
And the truth they reflected
Because now I'm lost
In what I refuse to call a funhouse
As I search frantically for some ancient tomb
That might reveal your brilliant incantations
Attempting to ignore the horrid revelation
That every spell I learned
Had been based in your arcane aura
And all the power I had gained
Had been based in your enchantment
I want a magician
Not an illusionist
So what does it mean when your illusions are so magical?
Jun 8, 2017
Jun 8, 2017 at 5:43 AM UTC
On the dark side of the moon
The light is always more blinding
One may hear a patterned tune
But Sol is no less binding
In the deepest black remains a torrent
Energy flows in all directions
A pulsing eruption of active current
The source of all of life's connections
Forces infused in superb creation
Energy powers our vivid dreams
Seen in a bright fiery demonstration
Found at backbone of cosmic seams
And every blistering binary star
Energy pumping from a quasar bazaar
Feb 21, 2014
Feb 21, 2014 at 1:45 PM UTC
we must have different definitions of faith,
cause your demonstration has left me a wraith
wanting woes whaling in your
soul. so why must i incurr
these laments- no you don't understand!
this whole time you had my heart in your hand.
for which you were to protect and provide,
but like a toy boomerang you threw me aside.
untill u finish with your ken doll and want me to return,
but not this time! now it is my turn!
but i aint playing, i am throwing out the trash.
and don't you dare expect me to come back!
them over me? what were you bored?
of all the years i chored? you know? Now i abhor
the memories of taking you places, all the kind fallacies
that i had to say cause you can't deal with reality.
you have no decency. you've cause me so much pain.
our relationship is a bike but you leave it in the rain.
then you try to ride it, with the gears full of rust
i guess trust is a word imma have to spell without "us".
Nov 7, 2014
Nov 7, 2014 at 8:22 PM UTC
Gauging the time on my ever ready
Timepiece, I would be vacant without it
Guessing the minutes that miss out
As the second hand moves smoothly
Locking onto with its demonstration powers
How to mark time successfully, second by
Second, a prelude to the minute minder
Merging in with the big guns, the 'On
The hour Brigade' of salutes and silences
Schedules and deadlines.
The.....gong
The chime
The clang
The beep
The moment to be woken from our sleep
It's a curse at 'times' (excuse the pun)
The engagements starting point and
Finale. I wonder what time it is right now?
Would we lose ourselves scurrying to find
Our 'timepiece'. Do we pick up our redundancy
In favour of technological time and motion?
Even though the 'Wonder World' has not dreamt of....
And cannot conceivably equate.....powerful potent
Possibilities of fake time in an unknown spatial
Rhombus, conspiring recklessly to promote individual
Unreality; time spinning out the hour, through
The minutes, towards the last seconds.....
of our unreal lives
Nov 10, 2012
Nov 10, 2012 at 1:43 PM UTC
Sometimes I feel so caved in,
With all my thoughts, all I can do is swim.
Through these energies that are flowing from within,
Just because I cant stop and ask what’s with him?
Why do I always have to make a choice,
My mind just wont let me be free,
I feel like I have to make a decision
but that’s not how Ive learned to be.
So let me tell you about this chick I know,
Shes not like all them girls that we always see,
The first time I met her I grabbed her by the arm,
I knew there was a story that was deep.
I looked in her eyes and all I can see,
her color contacts, that were trying to deceit.
But deep down inside there was a story that was real,
Her eyes and smile did a good job to disguise,
But that didn’t fool me,
I wanted to know the story that underlies.
The reason why she seemed so attractive to me.
Im not ususally a sucker for eyes, but the way she looked at me,
Made me feel like she understands how to be free.
I should’ve known the story she hides is something that might really hurt me,
Because any story that’s locked up inside should never have a spare key.
In the beginning I tried to make the situation feel sooooo real,
But soon I realized that she had an addiction that was unsealed.
Her wandering eye couldn’t stop her from speaking to many guys,
Im not saying shes some ***** in disguise,
But really she was a free spirit floating around that didn’t know her goodbyes,
Even though she realized that might soon lead to her own demise.
I shouldn’t say guys because in reality its just one that makes me compete,
That look in her eyes was that she once knew what it felt like to be complete.
That one other guy had left her so traumatized that shes never willing to forget,
It was her obsession just like a cigarette.
Everytime she felt angry or terrified there was one person who she knew would help offset,
That one guy who she never wanted to regret,
No matter the endless amount of time that he made her feel upset,
Dreaming in her mind that one day they can recreate that fierce duet.
See the problem was within me, I felt the need to help her realize
That life is always filled with opportunities
If we live in the past and never let go of what we once all had,
We ll stay blind and you would never get to see.
That there is some other guy that’s willing to improvise in order to help you lead,
I got shot down with all of these stories about how she cant commit,
The sad thing is she wont even realize how beautiful she is,
She lets one experience judge her whole life and all she thinks about is what if.
I even learned to like who she is regardless of the lovefilled flaws.
Just because I want to show her that her craziness can be fixed.
She thinks shes always lost her mind, and that her process is so one of a kind,
That no other guy can help her define, who she wants to be.
But I learned how to believe,
Before my insecurities and perfectionism took over my next decision,
But now what I learned is that life not about some kind of demonstration,
Its process that involves many years to learn,
I don’t know why but I really feel the need to have her in my life,
Even though it was causing me concern,
Now you know why I feel so caved in,
I fell for a girl who wont let me win.
Sep 26, 2012
Sep 26, 2012 at 9:16 PM UTC
She took a slice of a rice paper
Hold it delicately ... careful not to break it
Expertly placed it on a plate..
Mixed the fresh salad, some noodles and shrimps
Nervously rolled it one by one, though...
All eyes are on her.. All ears are on her
She and her famous Rice paper ...the subject of attention..
... the rolls she promoted..
A traditional cuisine, a local pride
She dipped the rolls in some kind of fish sauce
Shyly she offered the delicacies to us..
We .. the so called “International people” were amused
this tantalizing Vietnamese cuisine..
Specially made in Vietnam.. only in Vietnam..
Rice paper rolls.. repeat the demonstration
Wet it with water..
Choose your favourite fillings... roll it and roll it..
Its done.. Its ready.. its super unique...
Fish sauce.. fish oil and dip one... dip another
one by one.. so sensational taste..
Looking so plain never you doubt the taste
Superdelicious!!
Yummy the Vietnamese Rice paper..
Only in Vietnam..
May 24, 2013
May 24, 2013 at 11:16 PM UTC
Sharpeville, 21 March 1960
"The native mentality does not allow them
to gather for a peaceful demonstration.
For them to gather means violence."
- Lieutenant Colonel Pienaar
1.
We went with wrists ready
For metal shackles
To clench
Their cold grip
Onto fire hot skin
Boiling with white rage;
The appropriate rage.
This situation has justification
In the predications they hold true
Where to some
Human is synonymous with
******* nature,
Dangerous and hungry for
Light white blood we
Must be caged
To prevent the massacre
We could create.
2.
A child’s body is not a hurdle.
But when fleeing,
Feet pounding on dirt paths,
Black with dark blood, leaking
From shafts of taunting revolvers
And throats of the permanently
Silenced,
What do you do but run?
5,000 bodies bound together,
Melding flesh with flesh,
Fusing unhinged bones to bones
Still cradled in their skin,
Line the street where
Puddles are forming next to
Concaved skulls emptied
By misinformed bullets.
Last thoughts and worries
Are forever splattered on faces,
Tracing red lines
On skin
Sooty black,
As dark as nights will be.
3.
Sixty-nine lay dead.
A rock they said.
When interrogations
Took place
A rock they said.
Empty hands laid
Palm in palm
But a rock they said,
This, they said, sparked
The worry
That made it right for them
To make bullets fall
Onto us like metal raindrops
From an angry heaven
Hungry for black skin
And black blood.
Hands digging into earth
For retaliation,
For blood they said,
But everyone else said,
The rock that flew
Was in hands white as light
As bright as the day was
They say.
If the rocks they said that,
Spurned uniformed egos,
Flew from ground,
To air,
To gunned men like they said,
Does it justify the dead?
Nov 11, 2011
Nov 11, 2011 at 6:07 PM UTC
~~
This afternoon wears the dark Shirt
After demonstration of the moon,
End of the waiting of pied crested cuckoo,
I did not end
A little bits of interval,
Blinking the distant Stars
My friend could count,
very romantic,
In me cast the shadow
Her beloved lives outdoors,
All the apartments of the mind has rented
Taken from the first floor up to twelve
I did not
I saw the race of cars on the street,
Standing at corner of the roof
When hunger the fingernails,
Subconsciously
Playing an illusion of gravity
This time the drone of insects,
Occasionally shout of bull frog
In fresh water of the rainy season,
Breeding multiply
Nature of the Nature
Cut off the yarn, the kite ran out of the sky
In the Kans forest,
The shadows of white clouds,
very Absurdly,
I could not even catch you
In the body of mind,
Emptiness came home
Lost days song come up from the deep sea
In the silence the sound of sighs
Sleepless night as the rhythm of the strange poem
While the star drops in front of a traveler
Even though when my time has gone
Still could not understand the unknown poetry
~~
@Musfiq us shaleheen
Jan 4, 2016
Jan 4, 2016 at 3:26 PM UTC
The love of a female fitness champ and a male bodybuilder
It all started at Everlasting Gym
Two members that were their own sparking gems
Jane, a Fitness Demonstration champ and a beauty in the face and slim in the waist
John being a Male bodybuilder who is a novice bodybuilding champ and muscles defined in vascular as a road map
The magnifying glass in bringing love close
The muscles that entertain in being most
Two Dum bells seemed to form a heart overhead when two champs kissed
It was a muscle thing blooming into full swing
An exercise pair that normally perform on stage, but went further in their own amaze
Jane and John became Husband and Wife
The moment wasn’t wasted in being a couple for life
Posing was transferred to chores in being married
This is the responsibility that it carries
Well John and Jane continued to be fond of each other
Far more than lifting weights, their love was strong for another
Exercise with a different blend and a chosen soul mate at the end.
Mar 16, 2014
Mar 16, 2014 at 8:58 AM UTC
Crúzate conmigo wey and let me dream
No liase que seamos undocuqueer
Al cabo que el amor no ocupa visas
Firma con tus labios el contrato de mi piel
March next to me
Aquí no vale el papel
Propose to me at a demonstration
Kiss me and retaliate at this ******* system of subordination
Baby we are fighting for love
(and against deportation)
No pardon needed here for being fierce
The only paper I need right now is the one embracing this ink
I also need you here
No human is illegal
And love is undocuqueer.
Jan 19, 2014
Jan 19, 2014 at 2:42 AM UTC
Such was the heraldry of your being.
You stood before those who were of lower standing as you viewed them,
appointed oneself upward through controversial means, non of which were worthy of commendation. Corruption rose you to dizzy heights and watched as you violated the lives of others.
The lawful way is inconsistent and trust, honesty and goodness are words flaunted by your immoral and malicious demonstration. For ones own ends you walked the walk.
Now become by expiration, death should hold no surprises for one so foul.
The underworld is your new domicile and untold pain and torment are your future. Across the Styx, Charon will deliver you unto me. Watch with care the affliction of those minions that seek exoneration below the black wash. Purgatory however is beyond any reach that will veil itself to you.
Your appointment is of a somewhat personal nature to me and along with myself and eternity you will wish life had leant you on another path.
Jan 10, 2015
Jan 10, 2015 at 6:56 PM UTC
He was the voice of those who had no voice,
The spokesman for the oppressed.
He became a true hero to the downtrodden,
Who had been denied their basic human rights.
There were those who tried to stop him,
But he proved himself a true force of nature.
Because you can arrest the man,
But you can't arrest his vision.
And while they could lock him in a cell,
They could not lock away his ideas.
And while they could put shackles on his body,
They could not put shackles on his dreams.
And those dreams live on,
To the very ends of the Earth,
In every classroom where black and white
Learn side by side.
In every place of worship,
Where young and old gather together,
In every peaceful demonstration,
Where tyranny falls, and liberty reigns triumphant.
And in the cry of every newborn,
That they be born into a world of hope and tolerance,
Where equality and civil rights are the norm.
For you can bury the man, but not his beliefs.
And though his voice may be silent,
His spirit will live on and on.
12-31-13.
Jan 1, 2014
Jan 1, 2014 at 12:43 AM UTC
Just trying to get past yesterday before dismay leads me astray ,
Im struggling to get away from all these twisted games you play,
Its manipulation by interrogation it’s your medication for my segregation,
The explanation of your dedication is a demonstration of your reputation,
It’s mental torture,
Pure abuse that slowly tightens like a noose,
Its a pain that hides beneath the nights of tortured lies and vicious fights,
You have the power to articulate which allows you to intimidate,
But you manipulate to illustrate that I’m the one that’s ill of fate.
It’s survival in a hated state,
Using me as tempted bait,
You have to know it’s time to go,
Before it ends up being too late.
Apr 2, 2019
Apr 2, 2019 at 11:48 AM UTC
true love is not a declaration
it is a demonstration
May 13, 2015
May 13, 2015 at 5:44 AM UTC
methinks thou confuseth
thy heart's impatient beating
with the tremulous and sonorous
summation of the immeasurable
wail of clocks ticking, begging,
listen!
these wondrous matches glorious
arranged in heaven,
where weighty watches
and yellowed human calendars
long ago dismissed, irrelevant,
discarded.
marked full well,
they did
upon thy heart,
when as babe
you drew first breath.
when thou will receive
love's bounty,
nothing more and nothing
less.
heavenly their watchfulness eternal,
impatience does not grant favour
to love long lasting,
ever true,
even if struck anew
with first impatient glance,
for much thought and endeavor,
masterfully planned,
thy turn scheduled,
recorded, awaiting only
for inevitable
discovery.
for though the streams of spring
rush full fleshed,
swollen forward,
thy truest love is
best read in the
gentle constance of
a gentle lake's
modest waves lapping,
like a beloved's
best ring finger
stroking thy cheek
in one continuous
caressing.
need not thou lament,
nor groan
with impatient travail,
fare thee well,
for the sails,
the course inexorable,
the destination prescribed,
foretold and heralded
upon the flags of thy eyes,
the banner of thy words,
that rest prepared upon
thy fullest and hungry
lips.
chance is but a
secondary miscreant,
whose role is but as narrator.
let's him speak infrequent,
but when comes his time
to conduct his sale,
well behooves you to
listen to that littlest of voices
you so oft disregard,
victim of your willful
fears!
the time, the play, the locale
all matched and set,
now we await only
your demonstration and forbearance
to honest augur the
greatest courage
to speak the hardest phrase
e're spoke:
I love thee more than myself.
for whence
can only be,
when thou breakbeat
the chains accursedly nominated as
Me First.
shout the key out loud
In the hour, nay, the instance,
thy first believe,
then long life and long love
can then
and
only then
commence.
Nov 10, 2013
Nov 10, 2013 at 11:41 AM UTC
I ask you to gaze into my eyes,
And simply realize.
What takes me by surprise?
And thats a common cry for help through my eyes.
Crime has become a natural devastation,
It is becoming stronger than the strength of our nation.
What cause can be shifted to change this situation?
When
Hatred is commonly becoming a demonstration,
With the victims only educated thought being retaliation.
So as a people I ask you How do we ever expect the nation to rise to the point of elevation?
When our people are being destroyed with typical procrastination.
They say that you must wake up and realize realization,
Is the realism to what your souls manifestation?
Even though Hatred has been surfaced for over duration,
Yet and still you must be honest brother we control our own lifes destination.
Its confusing the way our world was interrupted,
And the common sense that our children now own has truly become corrupted.
They say our skin is just an outer shell,
That protects the flesh from third degree burns from hell.
Look we decided to understand continuation,
And that somehow that captured this pathetic society of a nation.
But we are not even trying to escape the situation,
While innocent children are being violated by molestation.
Because nowadays all these rivers care about is money, drugs, and ************
I ask you to pause for a moment of silence, as I prepare for my commercial break,
Remember one thing and one thing only
THIS IS ONLY A TAPE!
Jul 17, 2010
Jul 17, 2010 at 11:35 PM UTC
One of the world's worst opening lines, ever
Darkness, three or four of them crossing the street to me
My eyes down, trying to ignore
Figures looming, coming closer
My hometown downtown
This doesn't happen here
Wanna get with me? Hey!
Other things: gross and ******
They're closer and he, who I don't look at
reaches out and tries to grab my thigh
Like he's tearing off a piece of bread
But I'm solid milk chocolate not fudge
His hand hits and grabs
It feels like a wrench as he grips
Digs for a hand hold,
But there is none, just bone and solid me
They walk past asking why I don't say hello
Yelling as I shut them out
And I remember when I was jumped
Carrying a pizza home in NYC at night
Pizza floated down in slow motion
steam in the air
A pile of eggplant and cheese
freezing in the winter cold
And the kid grabbed my jacket
held an exacto knife and demanded my wallet
As the rest stood around
like watching a demonstration
And I pulled free because a puffy jacket doesn't make a good hand hold
And ran away, kids do that, the guard at Barnard said
But this grip was different
Had it caught hold
Had they surrounded
I would have feared for my life
I walked away quickly, from them, from memory
Nov 13, 2012
Nov 13, 2012 at 11:02 PM UTC
Open face of demonstration, demanding a new declaration
by excreting exclamations to explain to them
that there is no place for them to lay their head.
You want to erase them, and just replace them again
with a new generation that will provide the revelation
that will spark the alleviation of the victims of trade that had been played by those trained
to wrap chains around them, no longer locked to the ground but running in place nonetheless,
circling around at whatever pace has been set.
Playing house in the devil’s play-set.
Always alluding to what you wanna play next.
It’s time to resign from the contract you signed, pay all of the cancellation fines,
so you can start your own design.
The one that makes you inclined to put time into that
which will impact the things that you blame for losing your mind.
The things, you complain, are a waste of your time,
While you sit around and just hate and drink up a glass of whine.
Open innovation can transform into inspirational collaboration,
which will then send out invitations to the world
to take their own aboriginal exploration which would in turn destroy all awol nations,
thus, breaking the boundaries of potential imagination.
Oct 17, 2013
Oct 17, 2013 at 8:14 PM UTC
*Lost in conversation at a party
with a friendly person
I ended up almost tardy
but the event was worth it
This woman older than myself
had lost her youngest son
He had a bout with depression
and used his father's gun
A teen that never listens
comes with the territory
Blamed herself for doing the same,
called it her "horror story"
A touch of blue hit her face
as she remembered his smile
Her hands continued to shake;
they had been for a while
It got me thinking quite a bit
of what we leave behind,
be they achievements or kin,
by them we are defined
We tell the world of our struggles
with words and demonstration
and teach the kids how to live,
preventing devastation
Our legacy will continue
past their life expectancy
and through the passage of time
raise their dependency
The stench of death is rotten,
but still our biggest fear to date
is living life to the fullest,
yet remaining forgotten
And not to mention
raising sons and daughters;
we do our very best to keep them
from the guns and slaughter
Living in the here and now,
ever considered a future
where your experience today
will tutor newer users?
So* leave your mark - *be it poetry, melodies,
artistry, pedigree, even guiding infancy or
serving in an infantry, believe in your legacy
You're remembered infinitely.*
Jan 24, 2018
Jan 24, 2018 at 2:54 PM UTC
*Earth to earth, Oh ashes to ashes and dust to dust,
How strange, how familiar, human connection is untrusted
when we awake, each passing day, knowingly that by sunset
Those words would be read out loud
Over an innocent, black brother’s grave site tonight
Too many tears, too many mishaps
who scattered those bullet caps,
Too, many innocent lives have been taken
By the hand of the nervous police,
Even The birds keep gliding in the air shows solidarity
In respect of the dead:
Some human wish they were like them they said.
A charge is one thing. A conviction is another
Black lives does matter.
Who pulled the trigger, which got the last laugh?
The innocent or the victims
More weeks of demonstration,
the fight for the white house continues with words not arms
Blood in the Inner City Streets, subways
and shopping malls, bias and frustration, sound the alarms
Who pulled the trigger, which got the last laugh?
The guns, or the victims,
My poetics tone this morning.
voice your opinion*
Sep 24, 2016
Sep 24, 2016 at 2:38 PM UTC