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"directives" poems
If (WO)men are the ones that suffer an exacerbated amount Of the violence, the **** the abuse, and everything that comes with and from struggle and alienation; it is because of their femininity that men at times have come to believe that their contributions soften institutions. That at times throughout history neither capitalism, neoliberalism nor revolutionary experiments like that of Cuba have placed femininity as compatible with progress or resolution. In which case femininity must be hidden, silenced, or displaced with no purpose or place to belong. Thus everyone closely associated with this femininity such as homosexuals, transgendered (WO)men, and "effeminate" males, (ignoring, subverting and negating the lesbian identity because of their gender) have come to be marginalized by a structural system of exclusion. (WO)men carrying the highest burden for originating the associative distinction Homosexuals battling to find love by constantly having to assert their masculinity Transgendered (Wo)men afraid of expressing their through identity. Lesbians fighting to legitimize their own identity separate from the directives ascribed onto them by virtue of being born women. Males who are labeled effeminate because of their sympathy toward those who struggle and are alienated. And every other individual who refuses to deliver to give a marker to their identity and a degree to their femininity. Hold fast in your femininity and embrace the rancor that society grants you As a homosexual I speak with you brother and sister, not for you Realize that our self-ascribed degrees of femininity and identity are as revolutionary and transformative, and thus necessary, as those of Che Guevara, Mohammed Ali, Harriet Tubman, or the Dali Lama. That because we have decided to embrace our degrees of femininity, problematic to any movement, at one point or another, we have inadvertently decided to align our selves with those who are alienated the most by the systems in which they live. So that in this way we must make our struggles deliberate and political. Let our degrees of femininity become legitimizing banners of solidarity for anyone who suffers in any corner of the world.
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Mar 10, 2013
Mar 10, 2013 at 12:48 AM UTC
Revolutionary Solidarity (Embracing Our Femininity)
If (WO)men are the ones that suffer an exacerbated amount Of the violence, the **** the abuse, and everything that comes with and from struggle and alienation; it is because of their femininity that men at times have come to believe that their contributions soften institutions. That at times throughout history neither capitalism, neoliberalism nor revolutionary experiments like that of Cuba have placed femininity as compatible with progress or resolution. In which case femininity must be hidden, silenced, or displaced with no purpose or place to belong. Thus everyone closely associated with this femininity such as homosexuals, transgendered (WO)men, and "effeminate" males, (ignoring, subverting and negating the lesbian identity because of their gender) have come to be marginalized by a structural system of exclusion. (WO)men carrying the highest burden for originating the associative distinction Homosexuals battling to find love by constantly having to assert their masculinity Transgendered (Wo)men afraid of expressing their through identity. Lesbians fighting to legitimize their own identity separate from the directives ascribed onto them by virtue of being born women. Males who are labeled effeminate because of their sympathy toward those who struggle and are alienated. And every other individual who refuses to deliver to give a marker to their identity and a degree to their femininity. Hold fast in your femininity and embrace the rancor that society grants you As a homosexual I speak with you brother and sister, not for you Realize that our self-ascribed degrees of femininity and identity are as revolutionary and transformative, and thus necessary, as those of Che Guevara, Mohammed Ali, Harriet Tubman, or the Dali Lama. That because we have decided to embrace our degrees of femininity, problematic to any movement, at one point or another, we have inadvertently decided to align our selves with those who are alienated the most by the systems in which they live. So that in this way we must make our struggles deliberate and political. Let our degrees of femininity become legitimizing banners of solidarity for anyone who suffers in any corner of the world.
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20
Human directives, veracities unverified   Bellies belching with anger, murderers Udders dripping hate, foundling banters Hunters striking the hungered, unfortunate Glare sight to seek the truth, hold me lets sink Tear motions and debates of inequality My Dafur, the realm of the fur, demise All armed in Sudan, the arid, a battlefield Emergency alarms sirens from 2003 The indefinite complications and hunger A land of the displaced, starving nomads Hear me out in these non-dissolving conflicts Guantanamo bay detention a prison vicious A base for “war in terrorism”, reciprocal laws Inhumane human interrogations persists A breach, a revolt, the hunger riots devolve Force-feeding, torturous measures applied All undressed, humiliated, genitalia exposed A Rwanda slain in divide and rule Civil clashes, mashes, all trashed Swaying war rapes, tapes, the raves Machetes slashing necks and hands A lust of power, a genocide slaughter The Tutsi slewed and unsewn from a patch Autocratic regime boring divisions Territorial ethnic cleansing, a holocaust The oppression of Jews, Romanis, Poles Homosexuals, the disabled and mentally ill Indifference pooled in pits and camps The institutional social indoctrination The honor and killing to expose shame The violation and dishonor of moral fabric For what is “good”, “bad”, fixated moral values Buried waists and head, awaiting stones to hit Confessional secrets of only what lays within A torment watching witnesses, all dangling Marxists calls ships to stow ashore Masses kidnapped, confused in deceit Invalid contracts awaits signatures The white immigrants to be enslaved All aboard, now abroad to revolve labor Wage packages taken to pay for freedom Humans bought and sold to be owned Slaves yorked and counted as assets Bounded to serve plantations and homes A human, non human, a chattel, a slave A debt ******* offended and ***** Untamed and made to obey a master A falling global strings unturned Tunes strumming hate, war and pain Human trafficking, violence, inequality Child abuse, civil conflicts, capitalists Commercialism, zero hour contracts For if we have no rights, I have none For if we have no peace I have none
0
Jan 20, 2016
Jan 20, 2016 at 6:54 AM UTC
Cruel Inhumane Autocracies
Human directives, veracities unverified   Bellies belching with anger, murderers Udders dripping hate, foundling banters Hunters striking the hungered, unfortunate Glare sight to seek the truth, hold me lets sink Tear motions and debates of inequality My Dafur, the realm of the fur, demise All armed in Sudan, the arid, a battlefield Emergency alarms sirens from 2003 The indefinite complications and hunger A land of the displaced, starving nomads Hear me out in these non-dissolving conflicts Guantanamo bay detention a prison vicious A base for “war in terrorism”, reciprocal laws Inhumane human interrogations persists A breach, a revolt, the hunger riots devolve Force-feeding, torturous measures applied All undressed, humiliated, genitalia exposed A Rwanda slain in divide and rule Civil clashes, mashes, all trashed Swaying war rapes, tapes, the raves Machetes slashing necks and hands A lust of power, a genocide slaughter The Tutsi slewed and unsewn from a patch Autocratic regime boring divisions Territorial ethnic cleansing, a holocaust The oppression of Jews, Romanis, Poles Homosexuals, the disabled and mentally ill Indifference pooled in pits and camps The institutional social indoctrination The honor and killing to expose shame The violation and dishonor of moral fabric For what is “good”, “bad”, fixated moral values Buried waists and head, awaiting stones to hit Confessional secrets of only what lays within A torment watching witnesses, all dangling Marxists calls ships to stow ashore Masses kidnapped, confused in deceit Invalid contracts awaits signatures The white immigrants to be enslaved All aboard, now abroad to revolve labor Wage packages taken to pay for freedom Humans bought and sold to be owned Slaves yorked and counted as assets Bounded to serve plantations and homes A human, non human, a chattel, a slave A debt ******* offended and ***** Untamed and made to obey a master A falling global strings unturned Tunes strumming hate, war and pain Human trafficking, violence, inequality Child abuse, civil conflicts, capitalists Commercialism, zero hour contracts For if we have no rights, I have none For if we have no peace I have none
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55
for Harlon Rivers the river potion, the river portent, the river potent it is all of these and not one he is bank sided, observing the false idols, the image mirrored in the glass of the river transfigured molecularly he becomes something ferried frothily, forcefully as if a twig or a small thing of human manufacture, an object tossed up airborne-repeatedly his poetry: the clash of particles at the many junctions of objects and water, eddies and the currents, ceaselessly circumnavigating,   searching revisionary pathways directed, but randomized, prisoner of the flows, servant to the wind's directives and the earths magnetic indivisible undulating waves thinking, this life, its unsteady gait,  the irreverent wavering of drunkenness resultant from potent potions, portents of inopportune position in him, my own histories,  my poetic recordings also become water borne, watermarked, replayed back for me, for erasure, censure, closure and rededication this River is a tapestry, a torn map, drawn on broken shards of slivered water, living with all the others but we, are the untitled, we, are the un-entitled, and he is the Rivers <•>
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Aug 17, 2017
Aug 17, 2017 at 2:36 PM UTC
For Harlon: The River Potion
~ In the mist of late night solitude,                  from a mislaid plateau,                  with a suitcase full of sparks She observes constellations         reflected as little needy eyes,                         peering down at her They could be midnight directives,        postcards from distant nebula                             suspended in gaffa        "Ne t'enfuis pas..." She exhales Still she wonders:         will her children grow to love           their perfect machines more                                     than they love                   their imperfect mother? ~
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Jun 28, 2023
Jun 28, 2023 at 12:06 PM UTC
She Was in the Field Counting Stars
O Lord, please let Your Light shine, -in and through me- hot and brightly; my Life is Yours and I don’t mind following Your divine directives; with The Word, I hope to wick away Wisdom for a disciplined perspective. I’ve embraced the idea of transparency, where my lifestyle is straight, tapered and upright- with genuine integrity. Disperse the World’s ongoing darkness, that seeks to envelop my existence, with a vibrant flame of Your holiness. With Your assistance, I will handle any and everything that comes my way, while I’m blazing… as a human candle. . . . Author Notes Inspired by: Psa 18:28; 1 John 1:5-7; Prov 20:27 Learn more about me and my poetry at: http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2015, All rights reserved.
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May 21, 2015
May 21, 2015 at 2:26 PM UTC
Poem: Human Candle
Leather brown, bomber down, hit the bottom, rise again.  The resounding sounds bounce around.  It helps to misunderstand the plan, so follow these directives if you can. Green amygdala your orange eyes create suspense. Hipster blue, the denim, black boots, and those paperback books. He walks with attitude, reads for romance. Magnetic the charm bringing them in.  Stood in the centre as the hurricane spins.  Tethered to nothing, not even a creed.  A miracle in the making, an empty street, a canvas unpainted, a jewellery box recieved.
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Sep 20, 2018
Sep 20, 2018 at 6:07 AM UTC
Tyler
I am obedient to the directive of The Holy Spirit Others may not agree I do not want to sin I will continue to try & try again Even if others do not agree I will not pretend I will embrace His word Until the end Disobedience to His directives is sin I have left materialism The Holy Spirit is the guide of my soul... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control... GALATIANS 5:22-23
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May 15, 2016
May 15, 2016 at 4:44 PM UTC
TRY & TRY AGAIN
T- Take all his rules and directives on board H-Heed them well or he'll put you to the sword E-Edicts he announces mustn't be ignored S-Stay within the definition of his pit I-Indent it into your mind's memory fit T-Test not his patience nor his fab wit E-Enter good work that will be a great  hit M-Mad as hell he'll become when he sees a bad post O-Ousted you'll be if he doesn't like what you boast N-Niggling him will obtain a certain kind of verbal roast I-Irking his upright position means you'll be put on toast T-Travel within the hallowed guidelines he prefers the most O-Opposing him means debarment at a far flung coast R-Riling him over his rule's will disappear you as a ghost
0
Mar 12, 2013
Mar 12, 2013 at 9:41 AM UTC
The Site Monitor (Acrostic Poem)
Question those thoughts that pop into your head uninvited, shattering the silence. Random revelations while walking, reading or driving, shocking zaps to the back of your head like bullets from a book bin building, cleaving your skull, exposing your brain. Question them all….. Are they directives from above? From deep inside your ghost? Your soul? Where do they come from? Study the darkness of your pupils in a mirror. Look deep and long. The answer is in the hollow.
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Jan 14, 2011
Jan 14, 2011 at 1:59 PM UTC
The Madness in the Hollow
Prevailing You were supposed to be there Five foot three with brunette hair With eyes that held the kind of stare That could strip these walls down Bring me back to ground Sounding words out to make sure the emphasis Is on the feeling I found I missed Which you showed me within a kiss That was some thing new Temporary bliss And now you’re this Prospect There’s a new perspective Mission statements paint directives As I dive into introspective To make sure intents are pure Is this intense? Well, sure... So long a heart obscure Feelings, malady and cure Potent potions cause commotions That I must endure In an analysis of myself So I might be worthy of the wealth That comes in the form of a girl Of a gift beyond this world Coveted amongst any and all The darkness broken by creeping dawn A hope that you may text back But a knowing that you’re Gone
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Aug 22, 2019
Aug 22, 2019 at 1:32 AM UTC
Ghosted
Now RESPECT Should Be EARNED... NOT A Thing That Is... GIVEN... !!! Cos’ These Days It’s Linked... To People... TOO QUICK... And That’s Just MY Opinion... !!! ............ RESPECT........... SHOULD Hold Dominion... !!! Like Lands Used By Britain... To... Secure Positions... Now... Colony Driven... !!! A Respect That's RIDDEN... By FEAR And RACISM... !!! The Type of RESPECT... That Should Now Be Left... For Heads That STILL DREAD... Respecting THEMSELVES... ?!? AHEAD of Their Wealth... And Living In Submission... So Respect For Them... Is A MONSTROUS PROBLEM... !!! Because They LIMIT Thinking... To Feed Systems Driven... By Things Like Racism... And... Colonist Visions... That KEEP DISRESPECTING... !!! By Simply INJECTING... Forms of Indigestion... That DENY Them Lessons... About... INTROSPECTION... ... Historical Lessons... And Stories NOT Vetted... As Well As Inspected... To Confirm Their Correctness... !!! I RESPECT What Is FACT... NOT... IGNORANT Chat... !!! Where Intellect’s REJECTED... Because It’s NOT Selective... Like... Societal Directives... !!! That Keep The SICK... ... “ PROTECTED “... When They’re Found To Be... .... DISRESPECTING.... The Very Laws That... ... They’re SETTING... !!! It’s A Sickness That’s UPSETTING... And PROVEN To Be FACT... !!! That They CANNOT REDACT... When It Comes To This VIRUS... That Respects Like A TYRANT... !!! When It Comes To Retirement... of... ELDERS And Minors... A Respect That Feeds DEATH... !!!!! So Is Being Accepted By Many Collectives... Who Seem To RESPECT... What Is Government Fed... ?!? Which Makes Little Sense... When It Comes To What’s Said... About How They DECEIVE... And BREAK THEIR OWN Policies... ? When It Comes To Respecting... What They Are Suggesting... ..... Humanity NEEDS..... !!! Now If THEY CAN’T RESPECT... What They Now ALLEGE... To Be A DANGEROUS Threat... ?!? That’s Caused PANDEMIC Deaths... !!! Let Me Say THAT AGAIN... ... PANDEMIC DEATHS... !!! When You Take Time To CHECK... And Your Thoughts You COLLECT... Does It Make Any Sense... To... STILL RESPECT THEM... ?!? I Dunno Anymore... Whether People RESPECT... The POWER of THOUGHT... Or RESPECT People MORE... Who DEFINE The Word ***** !?! And REJECT GIFTED Minds... That’s Right Just Like MINE... When It Comes To SHARP Rhymes... That Reflect On The Times... And Crimes of Human Kind... That DEFY Common Sense... And... USING Our Heads... !?! In Ways Where Brains Work... To Serve A... GREATER Purpose... Than Making Cash Burn... Just Like Some Greedy **** !!! But In Ways That DESERVE... To Be Seen By MORE Heads... As Something of WORTH... That's REALLY Is Worthy of Earning... ..... “ RESPECT “..... !!!!!
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Sep 22, 2021
Sep 22, 2021 at 9:30 PM UTC
“Respect” ... A Poem written by Big Virge 29/11/2020
Now RESPECT Should Be EARNED... NOT A Thing That Is... GIVEN... !!! Cos’ These Days It’s Linked... To People... TOO QUICK... And That’s Just MY Opinion... !!! ............ RESPECT........... SHOULD Hold Dominion... !!! Like Lands Used By Britain... To... Secure Positions... Now... Colony Driven... !!! A Respect That's RIDDEN... By FEAR And RACISM... !!! The Type of RESPECT... That Should Now Be Left... For Heads That STILL DREAD... Respecting THEMSELVES... ?!? AHEAD of Their Wealth... And Living In Submission... So Respect For Them... Is A MONSTROUS PROBLEM... !!! Because They LIMIT Thinking... To Feed Systems Driven... By Things Like Racism... And... Colonist Visions... That KEEP DISRESPECTING... !!! By Simply INJECTING... Forms of Indigestion... That DENY Them Lessons... About... INTROSPECTION... ... Historical Lessons... And Stories NOT Vetted... As Well As Inspected... To Confirm Their Correctness... !!! I RESPECT What Is FACT... NOT... IGNORANT Chat... !!! Where Intellect’s REJECTED... Because It’s NOT Selective... Like... Societal Directives... !!! That Keep The SICK... ... “ PROTECTED “... When They’re Found To Be... .... DISRESPECTING.... The Very Laws That... ... They’re SETTING... !!! It’s A Sickness That’s UPSETTING... And PROVEN To Be FACT... !!! That They CANNOT REDACT... When It Comes To This VIRUS... That Respects Like A TYRANT... !!! When It Comes To Retirement... of... ELDERS And Minors... A Respect That Feeds DEATH... !!!!! So Is Being Accepted By Many Collectives... Who Seem To RESPECT... What Is Government Fed... ?!? Which Makes Little Sense... When It Comes To What’s Said... About How They DECEIVE... And BREAK THEIR OWN Policies... ? When It Comes To Respecting... What They Are Suggesting... ..... Humanity NEEDS..... !!! Now If THEY CAN’T RESPECT... What They Now ALLEGE... To Be A DANGEROUS Threat... ?!? That’s Caused PANDEMIC Deaths... !!! Let Me Say THAT AGAIN... ... PANDEMIC DEATHS... !!! When You Take Time To CHECK... And Your Thoughts You COLLECT... Does It Make Any Sense... To... STILL RESPECT THEM... ?!? I Dunno Anymore... Whether People RESPECT... The POWER of THOUGHT... Or RESPECT People MORE... Who DEFINE The Word ***** !?! And REJECT GIFTED Minds... That’s Right Just Like MINE... When It Comes To SHARP Rhymes... That Reflect On The Times... And Crimes of Human Kind... That DEFY Common Sense... And... USING Our Heads... !?! In Ways Where Brains Work... To Serve A... GREATER Purpose... Than Making Cash Burn... Just Like Some Greedy **** !!! But In Ways That DESERVE... To Be Seen By MORE Heads... As Something of WORTH... That's REALLY Is Worthy of Earning... ..... “ RESPECT “..... !!!!!
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126
Called-up to muster on the streets, Lay siege with pencils and paper shields, Place couplet sentries on every corner, March in-step with iambic feet, Shoulder prosaic figures of speech. Launch antithesis and irony, Landmine metaphors and similes. The poets engage guerilla warfare, Surrounding the body politic To water board with words and wit. Our units are indeterminate, Smearing ink for camouflage. Be wary of everyone you meet, Every tree lining your street; We're making notes in small black pads, To explicate the nots and haves. Pens are shovels digging trenches, Editing walls and blue pencilling fences, Giving refuge to the marginalized, From the onslaught of towering directives. We're parading in our uniforms, Raising banners, ragged and torn, Calling on all to weather the storm, To brace against cyclonic edicts That swirl and funnel from posturing egots.
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Feb 6, 2017
Feb 6, 2017 at 8:24 AM UTC
Attention, Private First-Class Poet
☃ ∴ ☼ Al Bandura, Ph.D, Drove to town so he could see if society embraced guided life-change (science-based). As he floored it toward the town, he struck an inefficient clown. Doctor A. Bandura glowered: “You’re not funny, nor empowered – get self-aware”. Then, talking faster, he offered attainable steps to mastery. “You don’t seem too self-efficacious,” Albert added, now loquacious. Doctor Al set new objectives: auto-efficient self-directives; made that dead clown self-aware, then auto-directed right out of there.
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Sep 17, 2015
Sep 17, 2015 at 8:03 PM UTC
Jumping on the Bandurawagon
I'm perpetually indifferent to my own distinctive decisions. What sets me apart from the pack is my lack of care for derision.   The world is on fire, what an elegant effigy.     So I say 'just let em burn if they wanna f--- with me.' No time for leg pullers or those who rattle cages Only time for those who chose to write their own history pages. The stages I have crossed to play these different characters Have been destructive in the way they allow me to break barriers Harriers couldn't cruise over me and spot my directives Because too many unanswered questions have me playing detective. It's suggested that in darkness the good's inherently evil but at least without the light you don't see the ugliness of people. and I don't mean their faces with no cover up or blush I mean they don't stop to help someone in need cause of their rush lushes have become the focal point of social structures so the male population has pants with flies about to rupture. So much is fare of the flesh that now it's a flesh fair and it is encouraged to have no respect and just stare and we're determined to mix up some smoke in clear air and we're demanding new jeans that are made with rips and tears. and I'm aware of crazes and fads I'm not mad as in I'm not crazy but this craziness makes me sad I'm at a cross like plaid but this is more like forked roads I am locked in online without any exit nodes, I am inside the safe but no one else knows the codes, so I am me by design 'cause I don't know any more modes. Listen here --> https://soundcloud.com/m_c_vegh/me-by-design
0
Nov 19, 2013
Nov 19, 2013 at 3:14 PM UTC
Me By Design
I'm perpetually indifferent to my own distinctive decisions. What sets me apart from the pack is my lack of care for derision.   The world is on fire, what an elegant effigy.     So I say 'just let em burn if they wanna f--- with me.' No time for leg pullers or those who rattle cages Only time for those who chose to write their own history pages. The stages I have crossed to play these different characters Have been destructive in the way they allow me to break barriers Harriers couldn't cruise over me and spot my directives Because too many unanswered questions have me playing detective. It's suggested that in darkness the good's inherently evil but at least without the light you don't see the ugliness of people. and I don't mean their faces with no cover up or blush I mean they don't stop to help someone in need cause of their rush lushes have become the focal point of social structures so the male population has pants with flies about to rupture. So much is fare of the flesh that now it's a flesh fair and it is encouraged to have no respect and just stare and we're determined to mix up some smoke in clear air and we're demanding new jeans that are made with rips and tears. and I'm aware of crazes and fads I'm not mad as in I'm not crazy but this craziness makes me sad I'm at a cross like plaid but this is more like forked roads I am locked in online without any exit nodes, I am inside the safe but no one else knows the codes, so I am me by design 'cause I don't know any more modes. Listen here --> https://soundcloud.com/m_c_vegh/me-by-design
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27
A congenial aura elated trekking Intoning treasured verse attention beckoning Diligence provided continual checking Confirming with gauges complying with code Merged flawlessly towards turnpike- cautious mode Along breezed a rig with a copious load Heedless of rush hour he rumbled on by Remained in his route to switch didn't try Hurled on the brakes swerved- she let out a cry The fish tail and slide left black in its track Furled over in excess too dazed for fact Copper tang on lips beginning to act Sinew taut cerebral flailing Knuckles clenched composure failing Ticker raging pent up wailing Red and blue strobes redundant sound Screeching and wrenching the pros abound Flame vaulting acrid scent soot around One outstretched mitt cloudy hood right behind Echoing directives "you will be fine" Such screaming not even sure if it's mine Hours? Minutes? seconds ticking away WHOOOMF!!! explosion that seized it today Claimed these lives on the earth they did lay What's happening? ascending brilliant light Are eyes sealed exposed perceiving what's right? Sense soaring heavenward a tranquil flight Radiance entices no need to resist While buoyant wafting in a cool opaque mist At last home free beseeching those that I missed Brushed against His Grace her brows lightly been kissed
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Aug 28, 2013
Aug 28, 2013 at 5:32 PM UTC
CRASH
Water talking to her mom Mom giving many directives at one go. The adorable water playing with her puppy, whose name is Thinkal (Monday) hearing the fisherman’s horn mom flowing to the road with a bowl her fishes swimming inside water just thrashing her puppy crying alone like a mature sea
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Oct 4, 2015
Oct 4, 2015 at 2:37 AM UTC
Thinkal On Sunday
Tell me the words that made you fell, The the pick up lines He used to tell How he dressed up, What's the scent, Where he goes, who are his friends. What made up your mind, when you're down and hurt? Punished by his kind, Ill Directives he asserts I can tell the fact, That he will only leave, For how he used your heart, girl, don't be decieved. I Can't imagine, how can you stay, Prolonged agony, what keeps you in bay? For I can't Stand, the way he treats you, Look into the other side, and let me save you.
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Oct 10, 2010
Oct 10, 2010 at 10:09 PM UTC
Let me save you
*A Story of Scientology and the Mental Health System Connection **PAPERS! PAPERS EVERYWHERE... AND NOT A* THING TO READ!** The thing I remember most about being in the Sea Organization at the Hollywood Org were all the PAPERS! Directives as I was to find. That's what they called memos. We were in a branch of L Ron Hubbard's private little army don'tcha know. Everything, therefore, had a military bent. More specifically we were in the navy. There were personnel who were labeled "bosons". And there were people with the rank of "Supercargo". And Commanding Officers. Actually, LRH would have liked us to be thought of as MARINES. Navy Seals! He was really THAT egotistical. HIS title was COMMODORE. Yep. His overweening pride took him THAT FAR. ANYWAY. So there was a storm of paper. Directives EVERYWHERE! Piled on desks. In inbaskets. In boxes. On filing cabinets, which were woefully insufficient for the veritable blizzard of PAPERS! I was forced to read these. DULL AS DITCHWATER. But I was given my own little pile, and a dictionary. Any words I didn't understand could be found in there. I was to look them up. And an extensive memo about the meaning of the Scientogeese which I was to learn. There was an entire LEXICON of THAT, let me tell you! More on that later on. AND we we didn't have TIME to read anything ELSE! Our day was filled with CHORES.... or reading of said PAPERS. Then I began to notice the other "personnel" around me. NONE of whom appeared to be HAPPY. They were a grayish sort. Looked like the sun very seldom glanced their skin. Glum, yet (for all appearances), VERY dedicated. Then there were folk who seemed to be separate from the other workers. They wore filthy dark blue or black clothing, appeared to run everywhere, and address everyone as "Sir". They were called the RPF. Rehabilitation Project Force. Remember that unit and its abbreviation. For they are to loom large later in my narrative. But there WAS one person who brought sunshine into my otherwise dreary world... MARILYN.
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Mar 15, 2017
Mar 15, 2017 at 9:32 PM UTC
MADWOMAN ACROSS THE WATER (PART VII)
*A Story of Scientology and the Mental Health System Connection **PAPERS! PAPERS EVERYWHERE... AND NOT A* THING TO READ!** The thing I remember most about being in the Sea Organization at the Hollywood Org were all the PAPERS! Directives as I was to find. That's what they called memos. We were in a branch of L Ron Hubbard's private little army don'tcha know. Everything, therefore, had a military bent. More specifically we were in the navy. There were personnel who were labeled "bosons". And there were people with the rank of "Supercargo". And Commanding Officers. Actually, LRH would have liked us to be thought of as MARINES. Navy Seals! He was really THAT egotistical. HIS title was COMMODORE. Yep. His overweening pride took him THAT FAR. ANYWAY. So there was a storm of paper. Directives EVERYWHERE! Piled on desks. In inbaskets. In boxes. On filing cabinets, which were woefully insufficient for the veritable blizzard of PAPERS! I was forced to read these. DULL AS DITCHWATER. But I was given my own little pile, and a dictionary. Any words I didn't understand could be found in there. I was to look them up. And an extensive memo about the meaning of the Scientogeese which I was to learn. There was an entire LEXICON of THAT, let me tell you! More on that later on. AND we we didn't have TIME to read anything ELSE! Our day was filled with CHORES.... or reading of said PAPERS. Then I began to notice the other "personnel" around me. NONE of whom appeared to be HAPPY. They were a grayish sort. Looked like the sun very seldom glanced their skin. Glum, yet (for all appearances), VERY dedicated. Then there were folk who seemed to be separate from the other workers. They wore filthy dark blue or black clothing, appeared to run everywhere, and address everyone as "Sir". They were called the RPF. Rehabilitation Project Force. Remember that unit and its abbreviation. For they are to loom large later in my narrative. But there WAS one person who brought sunshine into my otherwise dreary world... MARILYN.
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10
Take me to a theme, Explicating love, when blue. Hype the hyperbole, Metaphors aren't boring, And similes are true. Take me to the meaning of love, When love is new. Letter your signposts, Your verses aren't lacking, Figures of speech are attractive. Dole out the affection, Infect with injection Dilating, collapsing veined roads. Take me to any theme, With your GPS, I'll obey all directives, Noting imagery along your path. If inferences go astray, I'll backtrack your way, To a predetermined destination.
0
Aug 25, 2017
Aug 25, 2017 at 10:05 AM UTC
GPS Poetry
Blindly letting "us" oppress my spirit I have put my happiness under your directives But the sky has tapped me on the shoulder saying "come with us, this is where you belong" Aura expanding, lithe and flowing sweet gifts of elements, divine exhales of summer Grounded, reaching, floating upwards, songs of widened pathways; portals of endless blues And I stroll through this world with freedom eyes, and I think and feel as one unencumbered   If you want to find me, you must let yourself soar, because I suddenly remembered I can let myself out.
0
Jul 1, 2013
Jul 1, 2013 at 1:10 PM UTC
Freedom Eyes
i thought i heard the ****** of the blue bell around your neck girl i paused my creative trickle to chase you all around this property and that one i hugged your mom washed my hands rolled up my sleeve and you were still gone into the cat ethers you werent even meowing hell how are we supposed to feed you when you wont return the "HIIIIII!!!" we yell at the expense of our own self-esteem i opened all the doors for you just to return and keep my seat on that armchair warm the only place you could have been more removed from my line of sight least advantageous to your keepers most absent from your natural environment least accommodating to our directives the only place you could have been curled up and purring after all that???! seriously. i had to get on my belly to see you laughing at me cool in your aunts room tail wagging "I FOUND HER!!!"
0
Apr 20, 2013
Apr 20, 2013 at 11:58 PM UTC
lost cat {i see you tubby}
within the campsite's closed up enclave a general kept many a trooper slave on hearing strident orders being spoken they'd jump to the commands that did sound as these strict directives were oft around each servile soldier was at this behest doing what the big man would so request but they tired of the marshal's token a revolt put well in train there and then they'd not be yoked to the despot's pen their bid for liberty's run was a victory on catching the tyrant whilst fast asleep through an ajar gate ran the muffled sheep whereupon their freedom became history
0
Dec 10, 2016
Dec 10, 2016 at 10:50 PM UTC
Became History (Rosarian Sonnet)
Some walk the line Between a woman and a man. If god got a do-over Would he do the same again? Or would some afterthought Bring about a badly needed change That causes confusion So some use the epithet “strange”? How do people so often ignore The amazing leaders and creators, Proof they’ve been shown before That different people can be world beaters. People have cheered for decades Those strong women who compete in sports. For centuries men of feminine type Felt they’ve needed to sink to life’s last resorts. For no reason that makes sense Parents have dealt unremitting hate to their kids. Some of them take it personally As if it is the result of something evil they did. Demands were made unthinkingly To change they way they had to behave And too often the orders came from The unsuccessful directives of “Jesus Saves”. So here they are, suffering daily The children who live as god made them And society, for no good reason Chooses to call them names and evade them. There is nothing wrong with them These beautiful people living on the line Who act and live their lovely lives The way nature has defined.
0
Jul 20, 2018
Jul 20, 2018 at 9:41 PM UTC
ON THE LINE