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"denouncing" poems
**All Hours of the Night That range of time is too random to be alone in the dark with yourself It's the loneliest time to think you over because like the sweetest stanza of the prettiest poem no one will ever read; we were pointless If I can recall you said so yourself My faith in the possibility had been exhausted My heart... I've since changed the lock with no bother about a spare key Sounds like some slick **** a poet assigned to you would say I found a reasoning you should try yourself... I trust nothing; I know me too well to believe I can talk myself into getting over you You must be proud of yourself the way you get all up in me right under my nose My defenses though... just in case My personality splits All Hours of the Night I captain this hook and refuse to pardon heartbreakers with three strikes at love I rob in the hood I'll take everyone for everything and give anything I can get away with to you Those are my instincts There's nowhere to go to get around yourself I work like a fool but when the struggle rises above my head I learn to swim again What's a synonym for dope boy Started as a runner Stick up kids out to tax when bust your gun is all you've got going for yourself Around and around and I hate that I love your badside All Hours of the Night By the rim of your ears and nape of your neck To the point of your ******* and past your belly's button Until my mouth found your flower's fruit and sipped its juice; Until your *** was trickling down my chin I wanna lick you senseless Imagine that... I thought you were ready but knew about the clause in your description denouncing heavy lifting And our love was like dead weight back when At least there's that... I'd have to eat the blame one way or the other I've seen you zing it from your index finger at everyone but yourself You ain't for this life A mountain lion would knaw off it's leg to escape capture... Is that a chill or a phantom sensation All Hours of the Night You were on some other **** yourself The way you captained this hook and made me wanna pardon heartbreakers with three strikes at love Those are your instincts; Never trick where you lay your head Keep your family close and your haters closer Improve yourself Progress Prevail And money before good **** Sounds like some slick **** a demon assigned to a poet would say in the condescending tone you've owned since the very first frame I found a reasoning you should try yourself... I trust nothing You must be proud of yourself**
0
Apr 14, 2014
Apr 14, 2014 at 5:55 PM UTC
****
**All Hours of the Night That range of time is too random to be alone in the dark with yourself It's the loneliest time to think you over because like the sweetest stanza of the prettiest poem no one will ever read; we were pointless If I can recall you said so yourself My faith in the possibility had been exhausted My heart... I've since changed the lock with no bother about a spare key Sounds like some slick **** a poet assigned to you would say I found a reasoning you should try yourself... I trust nothing; I know me too well to believe I can talk myself into getting over you You must be proud of yourself the way you get all up in me right under my nose My defenses though... just in case My personality splits All Hours of the Night I captain this hook and refuse to pardon heartbreakers with three strikes at love I rob in the hood I'll take everyone for everything and give anything I can get away with to you Those are my instincts There's nowhere to go to get around yourself I work like a fool but when the struggle rises above my head I learn to swim again What's a synonym for dope boy Started as a runner Stick up kids out to tax when bust your gun is all you've got going for yourself Around and around and I hate that I love your badside All Hours of the Night By the rim of your ears and nape of your neck To the point of your ******* and past your belly's button Until my mouth found your flower's fruit and sipped its juice; Until your *** was trickling down my chin I wanna lick you senseless Imagine that... I thought you were ready but knew about the clause in your description denouncing heavy lifting And our love was like dead weight back when At least there's that... I'd have to eat the blame one way or the other I've seen you zing it from your index finger at everyone but yourself You ain't for this life A mountain lion would knaw off it's leg to escape capture... Is that a chill or a phantom sensation All Hours of the Night You were on some other **** yourself The way you captained this hook and made me wanna pardon heartbreakers with three strikes at love Those are your instincts; Never trick where you lay your head Keep your family close and your haters closer Improve yourself Progress Prevail And money before good **** Sounds like some slick **** a demon assigned to a poet would say in the condescending tone you've owned since the very first frame I found a reasoning you should try yourself... I trust nothing You must be proud of yourself**
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83
An open eye, a time of misery, The sound of the Earth, An ear to the cacophony. The sight of unanswered questions. An odour, of the fragrance, of beauty, without reason. A smell of, souls waiting to be sufficed, a state of havoc, and melancholy. A touch of hope, A feeling, so vague, so soft, the lenience of the soul. A thought to the weak. A taste of fire, the ash to the walls, of endless arrows, of words, with no meaning, but of great value, and unending power. Smoke, the denouncing of denouement and demise. A treat to the senses, A flash of truth. It is my cue to live, Living a lie. This is my time, My lovelorn morning.
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Jan 14, 2014
Jan 14, 2014 at 3:28 PM UTC
My Lovelorn Morning
No, I don't. Oh one who takes pride in denouncing love, Look at yourself. Unable to accept who you are without another. Creating a false sense of loneliness by ignoring the relationships you have in favor of the one you do not. You believe that you are rebellious in your isolation but when it comes down to it what is more radical: Cynicism and bitterness or Love. To you valentine antagonist: I Love You.
0
Feb 14, 2020
Feb 14, 2020 at 12:53 AM UTC
"You mean Singles Awareness Day"
I am searching for a partner. A kindred soul. someone much like myself, looking to run away from it all. I have the plan, I just need a friend. Imagine to find a cave, hiding behind a waterfall, in a stress free world, away from society. Denouncing our stance as humans, and conducting our lives as animals might. Living in nature. somewhere beautiful.
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Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 5:21 PM UTC
somewhere beautiful
modern mixed race music monopoly polyrhythms maniacal impunity stricken race bearing gender bearing skin bare barely faking rarely taking face nothing insatiable emptiness a society worshipping a lost organism ******* rein to settle wars that fought because there is no end in sight reincarnation is a reality death requires hallucinations to exist you make it real by denouncing the lives of so many that you could not be here without their beautiful miraculous struggle to be free from your association of whiteness from the beginning we fight with this glory you hold so dear dear people please don’t let them take advantage of the fact that in imaginations of whiteness and race we were ***** for real and we will never kneel again there is no trust in this new beginning behind no longer in front of me standing with hands over hearts that flag down please help help! help us!! shooting bullets since the famous emancipation proclaimed just flares sent up into eternity do you hear us ! do you hear us?! Our words are reverse missionaries traveling past the corruption reverse engineering reverse socializing the numbness of genocide the paralyzed nature of toxic justification deemed apathy by cowardice
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Jan 12, 2017
Jan 12, 2017 at 7:16 PM UTC
modern mixed race music monopoly polyrhythms oh my!
poetry composed in perfect silence doesn't exist... for there is no such thing, perfect silence there are no noise canceling headphones, a coachable prevent defense, protecting my inner ears from hearing words forced to the surface, loudly spoken, up floating unto the mind's constancy of enraging waters, the highest definition of mental disquiet, the imperfect silence frag grenades, IED's detonate, all nicknames for the brain's multi-voices, all argue raucous, unafraid of exposure, over~shouting to be heard, freely secure in the seeming silent privacy of my brain, mine owned internecine mental slaughterhouse and yet, what I write down, mine to keep... my home, and my mind, an isle, an atom of Earth and flesh cells, split surrounded by a broad freshwater river *the isle of the mind spits fingers of land and voices, injecting themselves into the two~sided, belly~soft riversides, forming bays and coves, hiding places for crafty human devices* my poor mind, mind it well, as this sailing craft called poetry, now, but a tiny ketch to keep me afloat upon the river surround, while avoiding the backwash wakes of larger enemy ships of state, those who gladly drown me for pleasure, enjoying the pretending-to-be-quiet internal screams denouncing the myth of perfect silence but the imperfect poetry born amidst imperfect sleep, the residual, mine to keep...
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Jul 2, 2015
Jul 2, 2015 at 9:28 PM UTC
poetry composed in imperfect silence
From his balcony above a man watches down on a little town in Missouri,   he pinpoints a bleak silver container as it slingshots into the darkening shadows above. It yells to him, "help, get me out of this awful place." A trial of slate grey smoke follows the container as if it were it's overly attached mother and within a second pulls it back down into the atmosphere. After descending the container skids across a schoolyard, rolls off the sidewalk and crakes into minuscule pieces. From the cracks tear gas spills out in all directions covering the once quiet little down in terror, relinquishing it of any tranquility that remained. The man on the balcony sits and observes the events that have unfolded. From his perch he can not tell black from white. He can not tell man from women. Turban from top hat, child from elder. he can not see if interlocked hands declaring their love and denouncing death that blares from police megaphones, are hetero or **** He can not see who's pride is enflamed by blue uniforms or who's mouth's are covered by dew rags to prevent themselves from speaking a death sentence. The gas covers it all. He can only hear footsteps running away, guns shots following the footsteps, and unfinished prayers as bodies stain the side walk. In this moment, the chess game of life becomes not black versus white but human versus human. And the man wonders, from his balcony above, why it must take weapons that destroy equality, to make us see each other as equal.
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Sep 30, 2014
Sep 30, 2014 at 9:02 PM UTC
A Small Town in Missouri
From his balcony above a man watches down on a little town in Missouri,   he pinpoints a bleak silver container as it slingshots into the darkening shadows above. It yells to him, "help, get me out of this awful place." A trial of slate grey smoke follows the container as if it were it's overly attached mother and within a second pulls it back down into the atmosphere. After descending the container skids across a schoolyard, rolls off the sidewalk and crakes into minuscule pieces. From the cracks tear gas spills out in all directions covering the once quiet little down in terror, relinquishing it of any tranquility that remained. The man on the balcony sits and observes the events that have unfolded. From his perch he can not tell black from white. He can not tell man from women. Turban from top hat, child from elder. he can not see if interlocked hands declaring their love and denouncing death that blares from police megaphones, are hetero or **** He can not see who's pride is enflamed by blue uniforms or who's mouth's are covered by dew rags to prevent themselves from speaking a death sentence. The gas covers it all. He can only hear footsteps running away, guns shots following the footsteps, and unfinished prayers as bodies stain the side walk. In this moment, the chess game of life becomes not black versus white but human versus human. And the man wonders, from his balcony above, why it must take weapons that destroy equality, to make us see each other as equal.
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26
Believing every word you say Junk bumping off your gums Putting punks over me, ****** denouncing real, can't see me I feel so ******** but I'm glad I read this: Can you imagine Seeing the one who hurt you In the spotlight Not because of what they did to you But because of something They do now? You'll hear people say how great they are And you'll have to be careful Not blurt out what you're thinking Not everyone needs to know Just exactly what happened That's why they dying everyday, and they gonna keep dying until their all dead!!!
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May 28, 2015
May 28, 2015 at 10:57 PM UTC
I Feel Stupid *** ****
You, Lone being Of enduring kindness, Your tiny hand touching me tenderly, Even in the bleakest times. Dragging me out of the darkness Even as I continually crawled toward it. The tortures inflicted, both blindly and unintentionally And with premeditation and surety Should surely not have befallen one so gorgeous of spirit. It seems now you have lost your faith in me, As I have failed to fulfill a slew of promises. But, you do not understand where I stand, How my hands are shackled Fettered to the spot, When we dwelled together Hell rained down until our hearts were parted. I do not wish for the intensity of my vile To drizzle and stain, and burn and brand you. You are far too precious to me to allow the chance of that. But, seeing you burn my page from your diary, Finally and emphatically denouncing me, I am torn down like a ***** ****** I love you with devout intensity, And watching you suffer at our separation It equalled the potential pain of my tint tainting you. So what am I to do now, kind one? My smile only masks the agony so long. Sweet one, whose kiss lasted longest, Which sadly meant, there were fewer of them. The clever saboteur will always sabotage us. The angry cannoneer will always barrage us. I don't want you to endure such things. But NEVER stop believing I Love you! Whatever you see occur, Never forget this.
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Sep 23, 2012
Sep 23, 2012 at 9:13 AM UTC
Never Forget This
I turn and look at you And I speak my peace, urging you to leave all you secondary notions at the door Patiently waiting at the turn style for some one who I know will never show up Because he is already here He is me He is everyone A genius Another futuristic constructuralist Studying equations Where the answers lies in eternal joy The difficulty to burn and the ease to understand Only separated by patience and time Overthrown and renewed Refurbished Barking dogs crafted from jade kissing your palms, bursting through parlor doors smoking on a long stemmed pipe Writing in blood with a raven-wood quill And a distraught agonizing yelp echoes in the library Denouncing the existence of love Brining what is mistaken as such to surface Gain, satisfaction, self esteem and companionship Love is up for redefinition Bargains and betrayal Vacations in plains never explored Taking trains filled with ridiculous faces Stark raving madness with clarity Disapproval of sonnets of old that now in the new age are no longer suitable for the forward thinking minds Necessary brashness Eminent affection Everlasting adoration of the suns embrace
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Dec 3, 2013
Dec 3, 2013 at 6:05 PM UTC
Comprehensive Concealment
Amusing to most cynics, these tragic tales of love. Questioning his mercy, the one who watches from above. Diabolical confrontation, an army so strong. Sleepless nights withered, pondering what went wrong. Meek perception of a fickle minded clan. Denouncing an ambitious child, an insubordinate man. An intense adoration, eloquence of being crazed. Contested against vehemently, all hell aggresively raised. Not unrequited, not unfair, a beautiful symphony meticulously shared. Infatuation so strong, hope for lives to be paired. Cacophony of society, this petrified state. Throngs of loathing, a cumbersome hate. Agitating separation, an indignant ploy. Hearts shattered, like a worthless toy. These bonds of unfair blood, creators of an avenging soul. Guaranteed devastation, eager to come out of its hole. Upset the master plan, cause his own disease. Let there be genocide, In god's decrees he did not believe. Buried alive, weight of there mutual debt. Grieving loss, Giving up on everything left. Beaten, he screams in mortal vanquish. His very soul on fire. He forsakes them all, allows his blood to douse there funeral pyre.
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Jul 8, 2014
Jul 8, 2014 at 2:50 AM UTC
Vengeance
The wind, it calls, through foggy day T o dazzle dust and drive dirt away. But some of these darkened vertex Hide the stories and forever perplex The strengths of tested 'feel-good' fables, Denouncing sciences' empirical labels: Too thin, too fat, too short, too tall, Too hairy, too bald, too square, too like a ball, Too strong, too weak, too open to lies, To encompassing of stories of the skies. Too angry, too meek, too full of passion, So give us pills! It's the latest fashion! Dose us up on your chemical compounds, Stop us from disclosing rebellious sounds Which remind us that not all we know, Are these soul-sucking television shows: Nip-Tuck, What NOT to Wear, Big ******* Brother, This is the modern day 'Watch With Mother', Feeding false standards, 'Bieber-fied' norms, Sapping energy, becoming a nation of vacant gorms. So Yes! Hide your kids, hide your wife, Open your own doors, live your own life, Because this **** ain't going nowhere, And even without a deity, a higher force is watching, somewhere.
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Mar 24, 2011
Mar 24, 2011 at 4:08 PM UTC
Modern *****
So what is wrong And what is right? A formulaic diatribe Denouncing young brides An age-old hunger For reacquaintance With the same? Old mothers and young wives Brandished Ph.D's and lifelong strife Carry the baby Forget the rest If there's love there's still no rest *** bubbles up Thinking its own thoughts And the anniversary deathbed Gets soaked again. Generations of beds Estate sales of lost loves A splintered family is less rich An over-achieving cote of doves. How to be fierce Without ****** the Earth Is a rich boy's dilemma The rest of us **** who we wanna.
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Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 2:51 PM UTC
Lust Is Life
by his betrayal to the dormant blood flow of life in moonlight who preaches insanity, anarchy, who taunts the wicked mind in its present neutrality where the provocation is of being blank and yet overbearing, such accentuates the interim shadows etched into a dirtied slate, thus that light that kills makes his mind primitive, soul, sedate, and apart from all, his body who became its own ruler spectral projections in his image surfaced as the fingertips ripped through its own ribcage and dethroned His Hapless Majesty in repressed rage and an animated husk continued forth even though the hostless spirit was delicate in its wake, so free from each others' demands, the two had liberties to take. and so thus they spent decades in total alienation but in time, like a king with no subjects, the Mind wavered so, and the Frame, like a guardian with no duty, faltered the same, and like clockwork, fate had cursed the two that one became, and by the moon's blinding and blank light a revelation held that craving ensued for the beings to become whole again, as the Mind haunted folklore, the Frame men, as a means of searching, to reunite and rest as an ultimatum. and they keep searching a mindless body, and a bodiless mind perhaps never to reunite in punishment of denouncing their being it was a truth he sought, though never foreseeing the truth he forgot. it was a race to command insanity and misery.
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Nov 5, 2018
Nov 5, 2018 at 5:01 AM UTC
two halves of the same moon
The noonday demon striking at midnight, The end of daylight, shadowing my cove. A journey solitary in obnoxious overtures, Or of demise denouncing such pails of ruin. The noonday demon that dwells in my head. That black cat of old, it looms large nigh. Insignia, memoribilia .. it's scriptures swell. Inscriptions in alien hand scribble my mind. The noonday demon pushes me on edge. A hairlength between relapse and freefall. Arbitrary insignificance caress my nerves, Neurotic endeavours imminent, and I halt. Halt for thought, convictions sedate. Paralysis; onset of dementia ensues. And the noonday demon Gobbles me up at midnight.
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Nov 19, 2020
Nov 19, 2020 at 9:27 AM UTC
The noonday demon
Benign baleful dreams pervading sense awaken arousal, destructive in fruitful essence of times eternal ocean of silence; a majestic magnitude of heavens legions felled as stars blossom like roses in the night sky. Amorous passion playing with shadows; climbing the stairs of heavens turmoil like a ladder descending upon a vast forest of emotions, the angelic spirit of deception; swarming like maggots untoward the sulpherous adamantine gates of a new order, dropping like flies unto the volcanic ash of chaos. Efficacious mezmerisation comprising invunerable exaltation, numinous effacement corrupting the truth of unimaginable fear, torterous pity bore by innocense; lost denouncing their creator. Succumbing, a subdued debauch ambassador of hope; proscribed as the moon replaces the sun, defiant; belief vanquished- desire unrequited. ELEETE J MUIR
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Feb 25, 2014
Feb 25, 2014 at 12:41 AM UTC
The Funeral Of Dawn
My little game of Chess That I played, with you Making subtle moves Hinting all too softly Allowing impasses Offering a pawn Renouncing knights Denouncing a bishop Even giving up my Queen That trying game of Chess It appears, has come to a stale Without one word spoken, without An idea or intellect having being shared My dear, I have not tried hard enough, and I shall never be the wiser for not having made a move
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May 12, 2020
May 12, 2020 at 5:11 PM UTC
Zugzwang
There was a once upon a time When this day brought trembling And swayed my self with tears The sight of velvet petals splashed In scarlet flutters Made my lower lip quiver Crudely cobbled rhymes Pricked the corners of my nose And I hardened my eyes Turning away, shouldering The world and denying any feeling Denouncing love All the while, your halo was choking Your absence was a presence Like a tumor But a year's distance Has reawakened my adoration For the taste of spring And affection for roses Realization that I cannot sink When I'm holding others up Focusing lenses on pain worse than mine Releases my love My Valentine To the world
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Feb 15, 2010
Feb 15, 2010 at 10:32 AM UTC
February
plants evolved organic defense mechanisms when being preyed upon they send off organic frequencies that attracts a predator to what preys on them natives and indigenous humans have and even more complex organic defense mechanism to hurt and torture sends signals organic signals evolved humans so therefore slavery although the intentions were white supremacy attempting to subordinate and control through fear and enforcement of whiteness because whiteness exists from fear of being tortured African who are native indigenous but also native doctors lawyers engineers professors families warriors forcing into slaves shipping and importing into every space imaginable of America conception thorough dispersion ****** and procreating light skinned warriors infiltrated every aspect of predatory whiteness and so without meaning to accidentally the organic defense of natives indigenous humans those attempting it be predators are overwhelmed by humans who are still close to being native indigenous so whiteness in denouncing native indigenous evolution denouncing blackness denouncing womanhood we all came from Africa whiteness denouncing origins creates a place that can no longer exist having invited and imported its own demise outsourcing its own existence and sustainability what a terrible mistake to torture such evolved humans who also have the freedom to perform vengeance in any way desired without warning private and public invincible impeccable predators to the failure of whiteness to consume humanity into objects of indulgence in order for whiteness to continue it would have had to keep us in captivity completely thoroughly but it couldn’t it fails its attempt because we are too powerful and we charmed so many of associates to whiteness and competed with the fear of not being white making it too dangerous liable to keep us in captivity won them over to being human native evolved evolution is destroying whiteness through infiltration conception procreation pseudo forgiveness organization impunity of whiteness becomes its weakness whiteness would have to declare absolute martial law and be completely uniform about its intentions and meaning to be its group severely brutal and unforgiving but it failed to maintain this status quo legally socially psychologically institutionally sexually
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Aug 17, 2016
Aug 17, 2016 at 4:58 PM UTC
Organic Intelligence
plants evolved organic defense mechanisms when being preyed upon they send off organic frequencies that attracts a predator to what preys on them natives and indigenous humans have and even more complex organic defense mechanism to hurt and torture sends signals organic signals evolved humans so therefore slavery although the intentions were white supremacy attempting to subordinate and control through fear and enforcement of whiteness because whiteness exists from fear of being tortured African who are native indigenous but also native doctors lawyers engineers professors families warriors forcing into slaves shipping and importing into every space imaginable of America conception thorough dispersion ****** and procreating light skinned warriors infiltrated every aspect of predatory whiteness and so without meaning to accidentally the organic defense of natives indigenous humans those attempting it be predators are overwhelmed by humans who are still close to being native indigenous so whiteness in denouncing native indigenous evolution denouncing blackness denouncing womanhood we all came from Africa whiteness denouncing origins creates a place that can no longer exist having invited and imported its own demise outsourcing its own existence and sustainability what a terrible mistake to torture such evolved humans who also have the freedom to perform vengeance in any way desired without warning private and public invincible impeccable predators to the failure of whiteness to consume humanity into objects of indulgence in order for whiteness to continue it would have had to keep us in captivity completely thoroughly but it couldn’t it fails its attempt because we are too powerful and we charmed so many of associates to whiteness and competed with the fear of not being white making it too dangerous liable to keep us in captivity won them over to being human native evolved evolution is destroying whiteness through infiltration conception procreation pseudo forgiveness organization impunity of whiteness becomes its weakness whiteness would have to declare absolute martial law and be completely uniform about its intentions and meaning to be its group severely brutal and unforgiving but it failed to maintain this status quo legally socially psychologically institutionally sexually
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105
It is said we are not born Hating nor loving Yet out there Hidden devils reside Likewise there are angles in disguise Religious supposed peace loving individuals Beliefs mocked and ridiculed God denouncing nations Showing the most compassionate emotions It is neither black nor white It not either love or hate Actions within themselves or intentions Constructs of experience holding us to attention Falling in the trap of stereotypical conventions
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May 17, 2013
May 17, 2013 at 6:00 PM UTC
Neither Black nor White
I've met familiar faces in the Darkest scenes ever unfolded Maddening their faces, screaming for Everything and anything that would **** the pain that drove them insane They've become locked in patterns in cycles in fixated routines of needing  fixes Fighting is all they have ever done, and never done all in one Once it was easy for them to fail, now it's getting Harder as the days thin out, as their waists and hair follow Glorifying junkies and embracing apostles of death They had no true motivators Just Enablers Stimulators No one to ever look out for their     interests, only their pacifiers Who do you call Who are you to call on them? Calling them demeaning slurs to protect yourself from your own degenerative routines & drastic disdain for the rest You wash your brain with the notion that you are Immaculate Infallible When in fact, you are but a defect in the washed-up pulp persona The epitome of plastic in a seashell Nothing could ever change that which is your ignorant existence Deny the Denouncing  of Doubts that were there to distract the dancing hippies in the rain from their ultimate decisions to become such disdainful primitive degenerates in the eyes of the rest of the cockroaches of 9-5 shifts & 3 minute  ***** in the Fast Food toilets Come, let them get off together They come and go and come and blow They never leave the circle of fixated cycles Yes, I have met these familiar faces in the darkest scenes ever unfolded But I never thought introductions would lead me any further loaded
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Sep 25, 2016
Sep 25, 2016 at 7:06 PM UTC
Doubts
I've met familiar faces in the Darkest scenes ever unfolded Maddening their faces, screaming for Everything and anything that would **** the pain that drove them insane They've become locked in patterns in cycles in fixated routines of needing  fixes Fighting is all they have ever done, and never done all in one Once it was easy for them to fail, now it's getting Harder as the days thin out, as their waists and hair follow Glorifying junkies and embracing apostles of death They had no true motivators Just Enablers Stimulators No one to ever look out for their     interests, only their pacifiers Who do you call Who are you to call on them? Calling them demeaning slurs to protect yourself from your own degenerative routines & drastic disdain for the rest You wash your brain with the notion that you are Immaculate Infallible When in fact, you are but a defect in the washed-up pulp persona The epitome of plastic in a seashell Nothing could ever change that which is your ignorant existence Deny the Denouncing  of Doubts that were there to distract the dancing hippies in the rain from their ultimate decisions to become such disdainful primitive degenerates in the eyes of the rest of the cockroaches of 9-5 shifts & 3 minute  ***** in the Fast Food toilets Come, let them get off together They come and go and come and blow They never leave the circle of fixated cycles Yes, I have met these familiar faces in the darkest scenes ever unfolded But I never thought introductions would lead me any further loaded
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53
So I'm tearing up the asphalt Mentaly screaming that it's my fault Downing the space between us Plotting how to gain your trust Denouncing the air i need I'm choking on the speed
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Nov 5, 2011
Nov 5, 2011 at 12:48 PM UTC
addiction
it can be hard to assess necessity in a cesspit, calculating and scouring different ways to find respite. it can be hard to commit time against the heart. finding access to hiatus just to breathe, it's never been easy to be lazarus. unsure of consequence, skirting bereavement, reborn doesn't necessarily imply previous demise, what's almost new cannot be considered unwhole, nor can it be trusted as a reprise. it's an artful venture to learn the cadence of presence, not an effort or a movement, but something of a lucid sweven, something nestled in the stitching of the seventh heaven. autonomously authoring my perception, desecularizing my intense intent and conception. understand that the brain is a somatosensory mech pilot, no shame, no rhythm, just an absently-go-lucky organism, chasing imaginary crystalline butterflies into the background, thriving in the quietness, malaprop to say forever semper-vivus. i consume my need to separate ideas as fuel for philomathematics, pioneering new tactics, new habits, through acts of active practice, emphatically denouncing the topical, the maladroit, the labels, let me sing my own mantra, humming to the hymn of my own humble tantra.
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Aug 22, 2019
Aug 22, 2019 at 6:12 AM UTC
desultory ratiocination