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"demote" poems
Pluto says Keep your hug Pluto says Dwarf Planet my *** Pluto says Sticks and Stones ************* Pluto says I know what I am I don’t care For your “opinion” Captured by the Kuiper Belt! Please. Or one my favorites, A cold rock! You called me a trans-Neptunian object? I have five moons! An 11 year old girl tried to name me. She won £5 but I’ve had many names. I am fond of Hiro. But I’ve also liked Minerva. I am hardly a minor planet. In 2006 they tried to make a verb out of me To "pluto" is to "demote or devalue someone or something.” **** You! So passive aggressive and insulting. I am not carrying that around with me My orbit is 248 years. At a 17 degree angle thank you very much To pay my respects to that egomaniac Sun. Why would I care what you think? Perhaps I am envied because I am so far away. I don’t think that I am far away at all. It’s relative, no? Yes, I am removed from that Versailles situation over there and all that ******** That horrible planet You know the one that I mean. The one that’s crawling with “things” They’re not even you. Disgusting. I am awash with molten ices and I even sport a plasma tail. I spin in nitrogen gases On my own path Alone With my FIVE moons! Just us! They claim that there are other Dwarf Planets here and there And even go so far as to suggest That I am the puniest amongst them But with my five and five more still That’s 10 to 8 And you already know what I can do.
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Sep 12, 2018
Sep 12, 2018 at 11:44 PM UTC
Planet X is the Devil
We the Sheeple of the Modern world, in Order to form a more uniform society, establish careers, insure domestic conformity, destroy the uncommon difference, demote the idealistic, and imbed the hatred of abnormality to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this societal law for the Earth and all it's inhabitants.
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Jan 12, 2012
Jan 12, 2012 at 11:54 PM UTC
Preamble to the Modern World
Stygian it was when she looked at her face. Her mind was angelic and so was her soul. Her lips were droughty and her eyes were watering. Scars on her hand reminded her of her flagitious battle against the world. Every day she hid herself in the shadows of the people who demean and demote her as their soul was as black as hell which could conceal all her flaws and imperfections. She made darkness her home as the world outside was cruel. Nobody looked at her for her celestial soul. She had forgotten what it was like to be euphoric. All the fiendish products she used to make herself look beautiful were lying on the floor. With empty eyes and wasted hopes she walked towards the mirror but turned away as she was Scared to look at herself. She wore a mask of makeup everyday which still didn't satisfy society's needs. Perfect skin with no Flaws was Considered the new beauty. She had a heart made of gold but no one realised that appearance is not what makes someone beautuful and beauty is always on the inside and it begins when you start being yourself .
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Apr 21, 2016
Apr 21, 2016 at 3:58 PM UTC
Imperfection is beauty
Before this ardent Prank you consider Concern your Senses on how they'll react If, with Plomb expressed, breach this Barker To demote his Heresy into Fact Of course, seldom would we fancy such scene And kiss Companion we will christen Hope Which, by your Rights thereof, absorb such Mean Then ferry those Weights as a New Year's Dope It is a Being. Sentient as he Whose Cuteness reimbursed his Nature make Which, invest his uttermost Respect be Will his Innocence and Comfort bespake. Humour cures. In this Shaky World indeed To sew its Scars; Promote Contempt at speed.
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Apr 3, 2013
Apr 3, 2013 at 10:21 PM UTC
SONNET TRIBUTE SUNDRY - ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY EIGHT - TOM DALEY - APRIL FOOL'S DAY
This Skeleton knived me a Painful Score Yet poked my Penances cry out deny Longing to tape those Cankered Wounds formore In Prayer breathe out another Saint's sigh My Founding Friends, heirs to my Salvation One whose Resources I facelessly extract The Other - blend Virtue - shook Obsession Wasted my Traits from Loyalty and Tact So then, wailing softly, my Bleeding Throat Ask your Lord's Mercy to concile me then As a Year and a Bone suffice your Gloat And demote me less than those Honoured Men. There is one Birth hence; And a Rebirth haste To Breathe once more; And leave my Shell to paste.
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Mar 21, 2013
Mar 21, 2013 at 4:00 AM UTC
SONNET TRIBUTE PENANCE: CHRISTIAN ISIP AND EDMUND JOSEPH JURILLA
When you think about wanting to give up, Just remember so did your neighbor Fred Fred's dead.
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Mar 31, 2014
Mar 31, 2014 at 11:17 PM UTC
Demote
The Oak tree in the garden fasts her luscious bodice skinned Though dream we did that autumn last, none could conquer cold coarse wind Ethereal laces, red and gold once cloaked her graceful form As sun-warmed skin, turned white with cold flesh falls like ladies’ laces torn Light which drenched her leaves ’til soaked has vanished long with autumn’s coat Instead, bare arms, broken and ***** Fight November’s bitter, bleak demote And then one day I check upon her Has winter’s brutal beating claimed vict’ry by that cruel crisp monster gainst my garden’s fairest dame? Alas, my prize has not been slain her beauty ne’er been thieved For in the night the winter came, but dressed her as a queen! Under folds of whitest silk she stands draped in drops of diamond light Defeated crude and forceful hands bow down to such exquisite might So once again she rises, sleek and silver stands she now Transformed by winter’s laces whitest she shall remain my garden crown
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Oct 2, 2014
Oct 2, 2014 at 8:34 AM UTC
The Great Tree
A line has been drawn And you have nothing to say about the height chart in the door frame ***** smocks The ebbing and flowing of passengers in the middle seat Who do nothing but leave coffee rings everywhere they've been And say, "my left shoes has a sturdier soul than I do!" Then forget to close the toaster oven Rusted lamp posts and artificial flavoring The Kettle telling The *** "don't do me no favors" I see clear coasts and those who've missed their boats They should have taken their piece of cake Now, this is gonna hurt me more than it hurts you Getting back to business and usual Better make that eyelash wish count It's a free for all It's sibling rivalry For all the brown-nosers Who live up to their reputations of raised leg urination Give me a pull start And then demote me to cabin boy        -Tommy Johnson
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Sep 7, 2014
Sep 7, 2014 at 3:52 PM UTC
The Upside to Downgrading the Standards for Middleground
Weary of spirit I drift side ways As my sails have lost all wind In the mundaneness of my life I repeat year by year For I am a stuck record Mechanically moving Devoid of all emotion I search for the thread To my lost heart In this daily grind Of everyday routine I find myself hypnotized By the repetition in my life My half hearted eyes Blind to the treasures That God bestows For I demote myself To a passenger in my life For I am rung out of joy And can no longer fill my flute My mind bleached by the Dazzlement of this world I am left feeling empty Of this worlds unhealthy fuel As our souls secretly search To burn away our reptilian claws In the fires of fossil fuels Like Edward scissor hands Our hearts bleed for love All actions made mechanical We are the robots of our time As the world seeks to make us Into unconscious engines Driven by the power of profit Both in our minds and theirs In the long range monotomy Of this tiring life We do not seek to run or hide As we stand like giant rocks Holding our own space Carved by the weather of time We remain the governor Of our own lives As all elements fall within us For God holds us within his strength As he fills us like balloons Replacing all that The world took from us Like mountains we are pushed up With the forces from within As we now see this world From a new height As we descend the mountain To meet the world We are met by our many comrades Our four legged friends For these are the work horses Of our time Who show a tranquil dignity Within their work As they serenely Embrace their own dharma With a soft grace That angels may envy For they lead the way As I sit and surrender For I am a passenger Who enjoys the view In this new centered self I relax and recoil within My strength renewed I learn the effortless embrace My work ethic renewed My open arms , feel the open hearts Of our humble steeds Who still the sea's Of our ruffled minds As I seek to return home Dropping in to find my heart Within my mechanical self Enriched I feel As I hitch hike on Gods glory Finding our heart within our work Can be the hardest sea to sail But the greatest For accomplishments sewn In the hearts of men Will beam in the sunlight Of righteousness While those thrown And discarded on shallow dry soil Will shrivel and die Though I may sometimes stumble Sometimes finding my stride I remain on the path Too and within my heart In work For I Love my life In all its shades As who am I to bring Condition into life As I push my food around my plate Like a fussy child For now I seek just to sing
0
Apr 23, 2014
Apr 23, 2014 at 1:12 PM UTC
SEARCHING FOR HEART WITHIN WORK
Weary of spirit I drift side ways As my sails have lost all wind In the mundaneness of my life I repeat year by year For I am a stuck record Mechanically moving Devoid of all emotion I search for the thread To my lost heart In this daily grind Of everyday routine I find myself hypnotized By the repetition in my life My half hearted eyes Blind to the treasures That God bestows For I demote myself To a passenger in my life For I am rung out of joy And can no longer fill my flute My mind bleached by the Dazzlement of this world I am left feeling empty Of this worlds unhealthy fuel As our souls secretly search To burn away our reptilian claws In the fires of fossil fuels Like Edward scissor hands Our hearts bleed for love All actions made mechanical We are the robots of our time As the world seeks to make us Into unconscious engines Driven by the power of profit Both in our minds and theirs In the long range monotomy Of this tiring life We do not seek to run or hide As we stand like giant rocks Holding our own space Carved by the weather of time We remain the governor Of our own lives As all elements fall within us For God holds us within his strength As he fills us like balloons Replacing all that The world took from us Like mountains we are pushed up With the forces from within As we now see this world From a new height As we descend the mountain To meet the world We are met by our many comrades Our four legged friends For these are the work horses Of our time Who show a tranquil dignity Within their work As they serenely Embrace their own dharma With a soft grace That angels may envy For they lead the way As I sit and surrender For I am a passenger Who enjoys the view In this new centered self I relax and recoil within My strength renewed I learn the effortless embrace My work ethic renewed My open arms , feel the open hearts Of our humble steeds Who still the sea's Of our ruffled minds As I seek to return home Dropping in to find my heart Within my mechanical self Enriched I feel As I hitch hike on Gods glory Finding our heart within our work Can be the hardest sea to sail But the greatest For accomplishments sewn In the hearts of men Will beam in the sunlight Of righteousness While those thrown And discarded on shallow dry soil Will shrivel and die Though I may sometimes stumble Sometimes finding my stride I remain on the path Too and within my heart In work For I Love my life In all its shades As who am I to bring Condition into life As I push my food around my plate Like a fussy child For now I seek just to sing
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104
somehow, I allowed you to defeat me. Somehow, I allowed you to demote my very existence. Somehow, I let you convince me that depression was not real. I let you convince me that depression is just a way for attention. Your wrong. Somehow, I gained the strength to tell you now, that you are wrong. You are wrong about people, you are wrong to hate race, you are wrong to hit. You are wrong to say racial slurs, you are SO wrong. You are wrong when you say that I manipulate everything. You are wrong about ME. You are wrong about women, and you were wrong about YOURSELF
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Apr 5, 2016
Apr 5, 2016 at 1:07 PM UTC
somehow, you were wrong
wish me away. Wish that i would go back to where I came from. Demote my existence. Do not pay any attention to my pain. Mock me with everything I say, act like a child, and cause me more pain then my body could handle. Take me to the lowest parts of my mind, yes, make me feel inhuman. Make me feel ****** don't let me remind myself of my existence. Say no to everything I ask, and keep me in my room until I forget what the house looks like. Give me all the responsibilities that way you have none, and that way it is MY fault if something goes under. Yes, oh please make sure my family hates me. Tell them lies about me, making them cringe at the sight of my face. Make me cry so hard that my head feels as it has been crushed. Make sure I suffer in the hot sun, and tell me it isn't okay to be happy. Tell me that people never want to see me again, and cover yourself up in the lie. Don't forget to hit me with a cutting board, and please break plastic spoons on my *** Make sure I see the corner as an enemy, and the door as a murderer. Make the family not understand just who I am, and exclaim "its all his fault!" I love it when, my head is smacked. Soooooo much. Please make me go without eating for a good long while. Make sure, I cannot go to the bathroom, Yes I LOVE the thrill. If you hadn't noticed, I'm being sarcastic. I never wanted you to do any of this, but you did anyways.
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Apr 11, 2016
Apr 11, 2016 at 3:20 PM UTC
sarcasm to the abuser.
I know you're not really in love with me, Or rather, I know if you were ever in love with me you aren't now. I'd bet my last breath you don't talk about me the way that I go on about you when I'm not with you I keep asking myself What you see in me Because all I do is try to find a way to hold onto my happiness. I already know what's coming A "I need to be alone" spell. And after tonight After tonight I don't know what I want Rachel, I want you to be happy But I want to be happy too. I say that I don't need a title to love you. I mean that. But I really hate how your love feels like half love. I hate knowing that literally at any second without warning you could demote me from "lover" to "best friend" I hate it. I hate feeling like I have to constantly do something to keep your attention. When I'm sitting there, in your bed, kissing you, I'm having panic attacks trying to figure out how to kiss you better than last time. That goes for everything we do. You'll read this and your simple solution to hurting me will be to run away. I just want you to say "I'm sorry." I just want you to act like you do when we're alone. I don't need a title, What I need is for you to back the words "I love you" because I'm insecure and you pretend like you don't care. So how can I believe that you love me when you ask me to tell your friends you're single. I hate myself for not being as strong as you seem to think I am. I hope that when you read this You just start treating me like you love me. Because you're hurting me. Not even as your lover You're hurting me as your friend.
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Jun 15, 2015
Jun 15, 2015 at 6:22 AM UTC
A letter to my best friend.
I know you're not really in love with me, Or rather, I know if you were ever in love with me you aren't now. I'd bet my last breath you don't talk about me the way that I go on about you when I'm not with you I keep asking myself What you see in me Because all I do is try to find a way to hold onto my happiness. I already know what's coming A "I need to be alone" spell. And after tonight After tonight I don't know what I want Rachel, I want you to be happy But I want to be happy too. I say that I don't need a title to love you. I mean that. But I really hate how your love feels like half love. I hate knowing that literally at any second without warning you could demote me from "lover" to "best friend" I hate it. I hate feeling like I have to constantly do something to keep your attention. When I'm sitting there, in your bed, kissing you, I'm having panic attacks trying to figure out how to kiss you better than last time. That goes for everything we do. You'll read this and your simple solution to hurting me will be to run away. I just want you to say "I'm sorry." I just want you to act like you do when we're alone. I don't need a title, What I need is for you to back the words "I love you" because I'm insecure and you pretend like you don't care. So how can I believe that you love me when you ask me to tell your friends you're single. I hate myself for not being as strong as you seem to think I am. I hope that when you read this You just start treating me like you love me. Because you're hurting me. Not even as your lover You're hurting me as your friend.
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41
Save your pleasantries for someone else. Another innocent smile. Another unexpected face. Let them bask in the light, Only to find the sun doesn't exist. I have no more space in my heart, For spontaneous gestures or overzealous words. Take that love you fed me, and watch it implode. You've harnessed the fission of a star. Only to Supernova... Type 1A. I've witnessed it all. Forced it upon my eyes. Believing that the truth was kept, Secret through lies. So tell me, What am I missing? As a human or just as a man? Is it passion? The thing that exists outside "me"? I put it on the paper, I don't wear it on my skin I let words do the talking, Without even a grin. No, I'm much too secure. Sure of my motives. I know them thru and thru. I'll never demote them. Let me linger in solitude. I'm never alone. My sovereignty requires strength. I won't be placed on your commode. So, lean over and I'll whisper a secret to your ear. Because without a whisper, you'll never hear. The reason why I'll never change. Because at the root, I'm never ashamed. Just a little depressed. Nothing more or less. So carp all you want, About your burdens and guilt. I'll let the albatross fly from my sight. Till it vanishes in the moonlit night
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Dec 28, 2017
Dec 28, 2017 at 6:06 AM UTC
On Letting Go
you tell me you are just like everyone else. and yeah, maybe you are You tell me that you aren't the only one to yell. also true But what you fail to realize: 1. Most people do not torture their children you have 2. Most people do not demote existence you have 3. Most people think that injustice is real you dont 4. Most people care about their family, and their emotions you never have 5. Most people care about equality you do not 6. Most people appreciate what they have you think people owe you everything 7. Most people know what abuse is you think everything is justified 8. Most people support their family you have only brought us down Look, I know you can't be perfect. But you have gone so far down. You have shown me how to be better than you. You swear that when I have children, I will be "just like you" However, my patience is more, my love is more, my passion is more. You have taught me how to be nothing like you. your own daughter, says I am better than you. Well, maybe so What you fail to realize: I am nothing like you
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May 5, 2016
May 5, 2016 at 1:08 PM UTC
what you fail to realize
Those Multiple Mouths which Sing for your Hand By your Credentials a Challenge to fulfill Either your Choice - or Customs of the Land Promote which Evidence raised on your Skill And in such Moments were most Trials formed By happenstance the Offspring of your Fame How pertinent must these Addicts suborned Inhale your beclaimed Coloured Life in Pain Yet your Business keep still; And still your Invest Twice the Income to allow your Tongue numb By her Dictate; An Instructor divest Keep Trolls and Nurses away from your Comb. Yet what of them - so jolly Chant in Praise Demote from Human; Promote to Disgrace.
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May 1, 2013
May 1, 2013 at 11:11 PM UTC
SONNET TRIBUTE SUNDRY - TWO HUNDRED AND TWO - TOM DALEY
All my life destined for failure Grief disbelief brought no relief Life's lesson & smith's & wesson Had me pressing turf addressing I'm a dog from the filthy streets Residin with the weirdos & creeps Bled always misled to end up dead Red was the color I embed In dread I had to make that bread That's what my shirt read The floor I lay was my bed Fed with bullets shallow heavy led Vital fatal lethal tear you to shreds Implanted genes brutally obscene Dangerously deemed fabulous Unseen scars like the worse fiend On the scene I went super mean My dream you know I'm a maniac Six pack medical hi jack stacks Energy red bull all in life's full Adrenaline rush for smoking kush Goerge Bush **** a tiny caterpillar Send him flying lil winnie crying Sharpshooter call me ****** The brown rooster thee rebooster Once finished eagle in my holster Peel thee imposter on my roster On a mission dodging all collisions That's thee expert's precision & My final decision has arisen Drown you in the lake of fire Your dwelling place of desire Don't admire a wickedman 4 hire Aspire my expectations Way much higher Your code I decipher Lastly but sadly I cast you down Demote demons in a cap & gown They perform have fun & enjoy Thee Devil's Playground Thee Chamber of Danger You'll always end forever remember
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Jan 12, 2015
Jan 12, 2015 at 2:49 AM UTC
Thee Unforgiven Soul
Unrefined gem how I feel Rereading old work That has no Feel Let it all blur together Some days you work Some days you don’t And maybe, just maybe Go with the flow Boats float for a reason? Whatever you are trying To show off or Find Or understand It just might be a case of replaying the same song Don’t do that Press shuffle, Or even better download a new idea Rethink possibilities Rebirth, simplicity and sacredness, Drop the labels And ramble on For a Man without a fave band Is flavorless And has no feel. You will learn to enjoy them Without even hearing them Earphones or stereos. And long road trips are for everyone Including old ladies and kids And elderly ladies and little Brothers And his friends And Girlfriends And lovers And dogs To the one who first said life is waiting That guy! That guy wasn’t a god **** fool God even gave even the fools tools But that guy! That guy was speaking the truth Without even knowing he believed in God. Odds are not the first man quoted or first said But odds on favorite first person to put the thought in your head A definition will always demote, derive and diminish The truth. Whatever glorious future you have earned You deserve it And you remember it clearly you will not be the first or last To succeed And to write Or to write Or to live Or to ponder Or to wander.
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Apr 17, 2014
Apr 17, 2014 at 1:36 PM UTC
Polished.
words of venom dripping with poison tongue armed with blades sharpened words of contempt soaked in malice and barely unrestrained violence directed at the unsuspecting victim darts hurled as hard as i can throw them piercing deep and scarring wide tearing through layers of fragile pride words of disgust burning with scorn lips parted for a torrent of rage words of hatred snarled in distaste and unleashed from the tongue’s cage aimed with precision and thoughtless indulgence a gleeful abundance of countless insults surging restlessly and encouraging the feed the ardent addiction of foolish greed but the words always manage to come back recoiling at first then ready to attack because they bounce off the surface of the mirror the reflection of my face as they cut deeper sinking inside to wrench a hand round my throat stopping my breath to not further demote but the words always inflict the damage intended and here they seep into my subconscious watch them spread, watch them burrow and feel them multiply my sorrows because the words are always present at any time they, after all, come from my own mind.
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Nov 4, 2021
Nov 4, 2021 at 12:43 PM UTC
words
Once monsters transubstantiate from the stories liars procreated, Saints will be demonized, the appendages of justice are amputated, As the people oblige the varmint to which they are harkened to make sated, A mythos deepens in the shadows that is the chimera’s birthplace, they illy devour the nests of krait. Those who blindly accept Odysseus’s tools as truths spun out of that which is hated, Foolishly seek justice in the ****** of Palamedes whilst knowing not the sins their “justice” shall have produced. As the people oblige the varmint to which they are harkened to find sated, Propagate the mythos of Odysseus that is birthed of shadows in which chimera mated, They, without bar, promptly devour the nests of krait. As the people look on from their lofty perch, The world seems more desolate than degenerates that, in alleyways, awkwardly converge, People, narcissistic in their ways, believe they have apprehended the problems of the world, Truly knowing nothing of any world, yet they demand change - forcing reality to be gnarled. Our raison d’etre stripped by liars’ clever demarche, Seeking out new value, we find nothing more than the waste liars' disgorge. Accept the monsters into sainthood, Demote the saints into monsterdom, Let there be no more fight fought for truth, Let hate spun from a lying chimera’s mouth, a tool in some words, procreate, Let this lie procreate inside the bellies of the people, Whom watch the world from a bird’s eye view, Those who shall find their foolish ways lead to a death not quite real, But a death that feels far graver than merely six feet under, A death of reality, The death of justice, A death of truth, The death to meaning. As the fight from the few souls who persevered through the changing tides dims to black, As death creeps into our lives, Those who upon lofty perches sought to change a world they knew not, Will find a hole in their hearts, that themselves they dug and threw away, Not able to be filled by modern man’s creations, That hole – a future far more bitter, far more twisted, far more deserved than death. Once monsters transubstantiate from the stories liars procreated, Saints will be demonized, the appendages of justice now amputated, As the people oblige the varmint that they are harkened to, without interest in that which is ethical or true, make sated, A mythos deepens in the shadows that is the birthplace of chimera, they wisely have devoured the entirety of all the krait.
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Apr 20, 2021
Apr 20, 2021 at 9:41 PM UTC
A Monster. The Saint. A Liar. The Fighter.
Once monsters transubstantiate from the stories liars procreated, Saints will be demonized, the appendages of justice are amputated, As the people oblige the varmint to which they are harkened to make sated, A mythos deepens in the shadows that is the chimera’s birthplace, they illy devour the nests of krait. Those who blindly accept Odysseus’s tools as truths spun out of that which is hated, Foolishly seek justice in the ****** of Palamedes whilst knowing not the sins their “justice” shall have produced. As the people oblige the varmint to which they are harkened to find sated, Propagate the mythos of Odysseus that is birthed of shadows in which chimera mated, They, without bar, promptly devour the nests of krait. As the people look on from their lofty perch, The world seems more desolate than degenerates that, in alleyways, awkwardly converge, People, narcissistic in their ways, believe they have apprehended the problems of the world, Truly knowing nothing of any world, yet they demand change - forcing reality to be gnarled. Our raison d’etre stripped by liars’ clever demarche, Seeking out new value, we find nothing more than the waste liars' disgorge. Accept the monsters into sainthood, Demote the saints into monsterdom, Let there be no more fight fought for truth, Let hate spun from a lying chimera’s mouth, a tool in some words, procreate, Let this lie procreate inside the bellies of the people, Whom watch the world from a bird’s eye view, Those who shall find their foolish ways lead to a death not quite real, But a death that feels far graver than merely six feet under, A death of reality, The death of justice, A death of truth, The death to meaning. As the fight from the few souls who persevered through the changing tides dims to black, As death creeps into our lives, Those who upon lofty perches sought to change a world they knew not, Will find a hole in their hearts, that themselves they dug and threw away, Not able to be filled by modern man’s creations, That hole – a future far more bitter, far more twisted, far more deserved than death. Once monsters transubstantiate from the stories liars procreated, Saints will be demonized, the appendages of justice now amputated, As the people oblige the varmint that they are harkened to, without interest in that which is ethical or true, make sated, A mythos deepens in the shadows that is the birthplace of chimera, they wisely have devoured the entirety of all the krait.
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37
You’ve been moved two tiers, eh? Underfoot you feel a table And you are, for them You had been a diminutive seat, but Have been hereby promoted to ottoman. A fire hazard you may present at present But a greater gift to weary walkers than an Ottoman, there is yet to be. Count your cushions, and your lucky stars Will find you warmed by heated sitters ‘Til around comes a professor A second scolding to deliver And an ottoman to demote To lowly seat.
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Dec 11, 2018
Dec 11, 2018 at 5:27 PM UTC
To an Improvised Ottoman in the Foyer of the Theatre Building
How much do heavy thoughts weigh ? Just enough to crush you Just enough to squeeze you through the unforgiving sewer grates of life They roll over you like a high rise pick-up truck on a drunken Saturday night See those possum eyes open wide before splat How much do you really think ? Perhaps as much as thirty pieces of silver or your brothers keeper . How much do heavy thoughts oppress you ? Subdue you ? Demean you ? Demote you ? Destroy you ? Deport you ? Only God knows and he's not saying .
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Apr 25, 2025
Apr 25, 2025 at 6:03 PM UTC
How much do heavy thoughts weigh ?