"denses" poems
This is not in reference too THOR nor R&B HAMMER themselves
This subject is totally about something else
But I got your attention
Now I am truly ready to mention
This specific write will literally be about a Hammer tool
It’s the one that puts the nails to the wall
Its makes the most noise to all
Car Denses hammered out
Home Fixtures I am definitely talking about
It takes skill in maneuver
Now there’s nothing to think over
The Hammer is used with precision
How you use the Hammer being your total decision
Hammer can also be used as a protective weapon
But I will not touch on that
It’s a one of a kind tool being within the stack
Screws can be tightened with the Hammer
But the Hammer has the weight of power to nails enforce
But do not try on your fingernails
Again, its precision
But it takes the human hand in control
The right angle to take hold
Then it’s Presto!
The Hammer chore will be done
Hammered thought
At least being a sought.
Jun 13, 2018
Jun 13, 2018 at 1:53 PM UTC
Them or no one you tell yourself
Right Its only a couple of nights in hell
Sourounded by the ones you love but they only cause suffering
they become the thing that distinct you from all the girl, what create a differing
An attack on the senses, denses up your head,
Believe all the lies that your mother said
That you will never be the same so why try for a mark you will never hit
To be different, not the same, especially with out a ****
So sure its a good day in your personal hell, sourounded by your favourite feind, but dont worry its not a deadly **** after you surivive this your **** will be cleaned
Feb 1, 2018
Feb 1, 2018 at 5:29 AM UTC
The river of a spiritual judgment mind,
Your name derives from Hebrew.
Descends from the Middle East
You're sweet sounding.
Like Frosted Flakes and Froot Loops.
Good humored and good natured.
But behind all that lies a deeper you.
Rapping to wrap the rancid desolation of thoughts… Making them rapturous art.
Sick and tired of frustration,
Sick and tired of the money bent backwards,
Sick and tired of the stressful work,
Sick and tired of being sick and tired, huh?
You've been drunk over music so many times you've lost count of the melodies.
You lost sight to what was important to you…
But managed to find yourself again.
Living 18 years on this earth, you stumble upon a ability.
A ability to open up your mind more.
Fingers twitch,
Body denses,
Eyes close to an oscillate vision.
Tingling.
Every. Beat. Tingles.
Scary but a beautiful experience right?
“I wanna impact the world by saying something.”
So you continue to put the mic up to your lips so the blissful colloquies hit the hearts of the amateur.
Music. Takes. Patience.
With your young body,
Mature mind,
And old soul,
You can push yourself to grab the goal…
And sit back on it in New York.
Oct 27, 2015
Oct 27, 2015 at 8:17 AM UTC
Pouvons-nous étouffer le vieux, le long Remords,
Qui vit, s'agite et se tortille,
Et se nourrit de nous comme le ver des morts,
Comme du chêne la chenille ?
Pouvons-nous étouffer l'implacable Remords ?
Dans quel philtre, dans quel vin, dans quelle tisane,
Noierons-nous ce vieil ennemi,
Destructeur et gourmand comme la courtisane,
Patient comme la fourmi ?
Dans quel philtre ? - dans quel vin ? - dans quelle tisane ?
Dis-le, belle sorcière, oh ! dis, si tu le sais,
A cet esprit comblé d'angoisse
Et pareil au mourant qu'écrasent les blessés,
Que le sabot du cheval froisse,
Dis-le, belle sorcière, oh ! dis, si tu le sais,
A cet agonisant que le loup déjà flaire
Et que surveille le corbeau,
A ce soldat brisé ! s'il faut qu'il désespère
D'avoir sa croix et son tombeau ;
Ce pauvre agonisant que déjà le loup flaire !
Peut-on illuminer un ciel bourbeux et noir ?
Peut-on déchirer des ténèbres
Plus denses que la poix, sans matin et sans soir,
Sans astres, sans éclairs funèbres ?
Peut-on illuminer un ciel bourbeux et noir ?
L'Espérance qui brille aux carreaux de l'Auberge
Est soufflée, est morte à jamais !
Sans lune et sans rayons, trouver où l'on héberge
Les martyrs d'un chemin mauvais !
Le Diable a tout éteint aux carreaux de l'Auberge !
Adorable sorcière, aimes-tu les damnés ?
Dis, connais-tu l'irrémissible ?
Connais-tu le Remords, aux traits empoisonnés,
A qui notre coeur sert de cible ?
Adorable sorcière, aimes-tu les damnés ?
L'Irréparable ronge avec sa dent maudite
Notre âme, piteux monument,
Et souvent il attaque, ainsi que le termite,
Par la base le bâtiment.
L'Irréparable ronge avec sa dent maudite !
- J'ai vu parfois, au fond d'un théâtre banal
Qu'enflammait l'orchestre sonore,
Une fée allumer dans un ciel infernal
Une miraculeuse aurore ;
J'ai vu parfois au fond d'un théâtre banal
Un être, qui n'était que lumière, or et gaze,
Terrasser l'énorme Satan ;
Mais mon coeur, que jamais ne visite l'extase,
Est un théâtre où l'on attend
Toujours, toujours en vain, l'Être aux ailes de gaze !
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