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"disagreement" poems
Give me time to be intimate. ****** myself deep into your thoughts. Slow grind on your opinions. Let my tongue pour into your pores. Nibble on your ear Light breaths caress your canals. Euphoric exclamations, you moan. I press on your frame Hardening myself to your disagreement Because bruises only remind you of past occasions You moisten my hands with your SELF-worth I fill you with my SELF-esteem. Pulling on the dreams flowing from your head. You cringe, nails hanging of the cliffs of my skin limbs stiffen around our future. You pull me close I hear you whispers While you think them. You want to avoid Submitting under, Moans become muffled Locked in by your teeth Biting your lip.
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May 15, 2014
May 15, 2014 at 9:38 PM UTC
Seducing Intimacy
I know the stories that you tell I have them memorized so well I take you at face value Every time You're everything I want You're nothing I could hate Hope you don't hesitate Will you be mine? **I see the electric sunshine I see the electric sunshine I see the electric sunshine** In your eyes It's nothing but a bruise It doesn't mean abuse It's just a disagreement I'll be fine He still loves me the same He tells me it's okay He knows just what to say Every time **I see the electric sunshine The mask you hide behind I see the electric sunshine** In your eyes I know the stories that you tell I know they're just pathetic spells You thought I'd fall for it Every time You're no longer what I want You're everything I've come to hate Now your gone for good and I know I'll be fine ***I saw the sunshine in your eyes The light you flipped on with a switch And when it turned out to be lies I turned into a ***** And I cut the cord to the ties that bound I'm happy without electric sunshine now I've seen the light without you*** I let it shine
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Mar 19, 2016
Mar 19, 2016 at 1:17 PM UTC
Electric Sunshine (domestic violence poem)
Big brother, little sister. Best of each one's protector. Big sister, little brother. Always looking out for one another. From each perspective they have their disagreement. Siblings usually does. But mess with one and you'll find you're messing with two. Be it big brother, little sister. Or big sister, little brother. A single child realize not this bond. But it exist deeper than many relationships.
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Feb 28, 2015
Feb 28, 2015 at 10:27 AM UTC
Big Brother, Little Sister
Death doesn't discriminate Quite frankly, He doesn't care Once He's out of the barrel Whizzing through midair. Gay, straight, Lesbian or Bi You have no control if you die. But the finger that pulled the trigger Now that's a different story. But motives mean nothing to the family in mourning This morning. There's nothing you could say or explain away that would bring comfort today. If you told them it was religion or a hate crime that doesn't give them any more time. And it's the outpouring of speechless faces Awestruck gazes That should shake us awake in every state from our state of denial. These cold steel devices have become our vices becoming our own rod of judgement in bringing "justice".   A disagreement in lifestyle does not warrant a life. If you feel offended, just turn the other cheek And prevent tears from streaming down cheeks. Death might not discriminate, but those who discriminate bring death. Whether it's in the form of a gun Or a loved one being shunned. Life is precious and sacred And if someone has it, you shouldn't take it.
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Jun 12, 2016
Jun 12, 2016 at 1:30 PM UTC
Death Doesn't Discriminate Pt. II
I can tell you that you’re beautiful, You will not believe me. I can tell you that you mean everything to me. You will not care. I can tell you that you are perfect. You will accuse me of lies. I can tell you that you are ugly. I can tell you I hate you. I can tell you that you disgust me. Would then a disagreement come to mind?
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Feb 26, 2015
Feb 26, 2015 at 11:08 PM UTC
Beautifully Ugly
We know the word. It's applied to many things. We disagree to it use. Simply, we acting the nature of being a human being. Just because siblings doesn't get along. It doesn't mean they are dysfunctional. This just the so call experts speaking. We all know doctors doesn't agree. So, how can they apply this tag dysfunctional to anyone? We could say it were a purpose of God. To see, how we adjust to our conflicts concerning love. We saw Cain and Abel have disagreement. And know how that conclusion ended. Even family that pretends to get along. Usually exposes they were fronting all along. We see this constantly in the news. Where politicians not even kin to one another? Seems to act like sisters, mothers, fathers, and brothers. And this includes aunts and uncles too. So, are they dysfunctional too? Because they see things in a different light. Experts, say it is. We common sense people just say, it's life. We not suppose to agree on everything in life. Once, a word makes it into our vocabulary. Then people starts using it. As a every day saying You dysfunctional. I'm dysfunctional. When in truth. We just being us. We know the way to love. We just refuse to show it.
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Jan 27, 2013
Jan 27, 2013 at 8:23 AM UTC
Who's Dysfunctional?
Unity Why does it mean so much? Why does it matter that it should be amongst us, between friends, in families, our congregation, neighborhood communities Let's think about the word unity again The first three letters stop look closely U. N. I You and I It's Ironic how that works We can't go anywhere with our relationship with the people we love without this next statement in mind Humans creation was designed to be a continuous population and togetherness Yet we always find a way to remain separated. Is it possible you could look deep in your heart and soul and find you need me just as much as I need you. The topic of unity isn't just one underlying issue. It involves communication When you're happy and feel you have to celebrate, send me a text Call when you're sad because I know you battle with being depressed Tell me about your fears no I can't take them away I'm not Jehovah but understand I'm here. Or even when we have a disagreement How am I supposed to know your upset It's not supernatural I don't speak telepathical I feel like khalid. Can you just talk to me? Tell me how your feeling voice your opinions that's what's wrong with society. You know why because the lack unity Patience is also key but that's another song for a different time. We're towards the end **** before I go this is what you should know Coming together is a begining Keeping together is progress, working together is success Without unity there can be no strength
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Aug 7, 2019
Aug 7, 2019 at 8:35 PM UTC
Unity
Lost soles . . . . never free . . . Follow me . . . see . . . have no fear . But you have handed me . . . one left shoe and a-not- her . Come old lady who lives in the shoe . . . Where are your children ? ? ? . . . a little unsteady ? Lost soles to memory , like Kentucky lightning on a warm Alabama night . All hail the underdog . All hail . . . The first left one fits nicely But the right foot has disagreement . . . feeling he has been left out .
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Jul 9, 2016
Jul 9, 2016 at 5:34 AM UTC
Two left shoes
Sometimes I catch myself thinkin’ about you with my fingers crossed. And my eyes closed, like I’m wishing for something. This is funny to me, because I learned recently that my brain does this weird thing where it’s incapable of feeling superstitious. I have always wanted a black cat. You have always been a wishing well begging for the famished to come and dip their hands. You wear a sign that says “Take something, or leave something, doesn’t matter, just leave feeling won” Leave feeling like you won. This is how you will leave me. When my fingers are crossed. Because then the promises don’t matter. When my eyes are closed. Because it will hurt more to watch you leave than to wonder if you crawled or if you ran. When my teeth hurt, from all the chatter, from all the shake, from all the wisdom they extracted. You know I’ve been leaving bite marks in the crust of the earth, trying to find a wormhole that will take me to the moment you thought, “hey, this girl’s gonna write poems about me every Friday” and “hey, she won’t win me, but maybe she’ll win something”. I'm the award winning heartache, I'm the pain they thought would last forever. I'm my grandmother's years of Elvis & Jack Daniel's coming to the surface and passing themselves off as vertigo. You're the sum of the times you and the earth were in disagreement over your leaving. You're the only thing that will shine when the sun dies. We are Samson and Delilah. You are so sunshine. I am grateful to the doctors that gave me second chances, I am grateful for the opportunity that someday is engraved with. This is how you will leave me. I pray with my fingers crossed. and my eyes closed, like I'm wishing for something. I don't say Amen. I say thank you. Thank you.
0
Oct 5, 2014
Oct 5, 2014 at 10:33 PM UTC
thank you
Sometimes I catch myself thinkin’ about you with my fingers crossed. And my eyes closed, like I’m wishing for something. This is funny to me, because I learned recently that my brain does this weird thing where it’s incapable of feeling superstitious. I have always wanted a black cat. You have always been a wishing well begging for the famished to come and dip their hands. You wear a sign that says “Take something, or leave something, doesn’t matter, just leave feeling won” Leave feeling like you won. This is how you will leave me. When my fingers are crossed. Because then the promises don’t matter. When my eyes are closed. Because it will hurt more to watch you leave than to wonder if you crawled or if you ran. When my teeth hurt, from all the chatter, from all the shake, from all the wisdom they extracted. You know I’ve been leaving bite marks in the crust of the earth, trying to find a wormhole that will take me to the moment you thought, “hey, this girl’s gonna write poems about me every Friday” and “hey, she won’t win me, but maybe she’ll win something”. I'm the award winning heartache, I'm the pain they thought would last forever. I'm my grandmother's years of Elvis & Jack Daniel's coming to the surface and passing themselves off as vertigo. You're the sum of the times you and the earth were in disagreement over your leaving. You're the only thing that will shine when the sun dies. We are Samson and Delilah. You are so sunshine. I am grateful to the doctors that gave me second chances, I am grateful for the opportunity that someday is engraved with. This is how you will leave me. I pray with my fingers crossed. and my eyes closed, like I'm wishing for something. I don't say Amen. I say thank you. Thank you.
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31
A once dear friend And I met up; Twenty years since we spoke, And neither one could talk. We left each other's company On terms of disagreement. The ice was thick; The air was clouded; We stood beneath the shade. The mountain didn't fall; The earth didn't swallow; The roof stayed on. Nothing cracked our uncertainty. Then we misquoted some old Misunderstood memories Of why we went our ways. And felt the same.
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Oct 21, 2021
Oct 21, 2021 at 6:50 AM UTC
Reconcilable Differences
professor Burke and professor Lee two mathematicians who could not agree loudly voiced their differences at half past noon having daily lunch at the Greasy Spoon the subject on the fateful day was Pi and they could not see eye to eye a disagreement on the thousandth digit had Burke turn red and caused Lee to fidget said Burke “No you are off by one!” spat Lee “Your math is poorly done!” Burke shouted, “Lee, you have gone too far!” reached toward the counter for a candy jar but his hand instead encountered pie a hideous gleam sprang to his eye he flung the pie with all his might hit Lee full face, eyes wide with fright but Lee recovered and found more pies Boston Creme took Burke between the eyes apple, custard, lemon, berry pecan, pumpkin, key lime, cherry pies of every kind were thrown plates' radius squared remained unknown the police arrived to break up the fray took the two meringued men away many hours later in the quiet cell with pie for ink and tempers quelled the two stood looking at the wall upon which lay their equation scrawled said Burke, with both their faces long “Well, what do you know. We both were wrong.”
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Mar 14, 2019
Mar 14, 2019 at 11:20 PM UTC
The Great Pi(e) Fight
I. This is just another bad poem Just vomited-thoughts-left-on-paper poem This is a collection of grammatical errors This would surely make my English teacher cringe But no worries, I didn’t write this for her II. This bad poem is for you May my subject and verb disagreement remind you of all those misunderstandings that lead to raised voices and nights where I cried myself to sleep Sentence construction was never my strength, it still isn’t, maybe that’s why you never truly understood me— called me difficult and bipolar You said that I was too much Did it ever occur to you that you might just misread me, like homonyms, same words but with different meanings misread my jealousy with accusations, my concern for excessive affection You said that I loved you too much but darling, did you even love me at all? Did I put too much meaning on your words, turned them into similes and metaphors? Turned your literal statements into figures of speech You told me that you liked me, so I blissfully interpreted it as a hyperbolic expression— called it love when obviously it wasn’t III. I was never good at using punctuations I put too much commas, unnecessary, misused, I kept trying to hold on Afraid of the inevitable end, Switched to semi-colons in an attempt to make it a few words longer Because despite all our grammatical errors no matter how shameful our piece of literature was to the English language It was beautiful to the untrained eye, To those who read poetry as it is To those who don’t dig deep in search of true meaning behind the metaphors It was beautiful to me But I eventually learned that infinitives and infinities are different, in spite of sharing infinite as the root word Like our love, started with something so promising but unlike most novels, there’s no happy ending So I accepted defeat, accepted the inevitable and bitter end No more committing the same mistakes over and over again, the same words over and over again, Accepted the fact that synonyms existed, words with the same meaning but also entirely different new and unfamiliar, foreign and peculiar IV. I accepted defeat No more commas or semi-colons We have reached the couplet of our free formed sonnet— I was never good with endings, I don’t think I’ll ever be, So darling I hand you the pen, set us both free.
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Dec 5, 2016
Dec 5, 2016 at 7:31 AM UTC
Untitled
I. This is just another bad poem Just vomited-thoughts-left-on-paper poem This is a collection of grammatical errors This would surely make my English teacher cringe But no worries, I didn’t write this for her II. This bad poem is for you May my subject and verb disagreement remind you of all those misunderstandings that lead to raised voices and nights where I cried myself to sleep Sentence construction was never my strength, it still isn’t, maybe that’s why you never truly understood me— called me difficult and bipolar You said that I was too much Did it ever occur to you that you might just misread me, like homonyms, same words but with different meanings misread my jealousy with accusations, my concern for excessive affection You said that I loved you too much but darling, did you even love me at all? Did I put too much meaning on your words, turned them into similes and metaphors? Turned your literal statements into figures of speech You told me that you liked me, so I blissfully interpreted it as a hyperbolic expression— called it love when obviously it wasn’t III. I was never good at using punctuations I put too much commas, unnecessary, misused, I kept trying to hold on Afraid of the inevitable end, Switched to semi-colons in an attempt to make it a few words longer Because despite all our grammatical errors no matter how shameful our piece of literature was to the English language It was beautiful to the untrained eye, To those who read poetry as it is To those who don’t dig deep in search of true meaning behind the metaphors It was beautiful to me But I eventually learned that infinitives and infinities are different, in spite of sharing infinite as the root word Like our love, started with something so promising but unlike most novels, there’s no happy ending So I accepted defeat, accepted the inevitable and bitter end No more committing the same mistakes over and over again, the same words over and over again, Accepted the fact that synonyms existed, words with the same meaning but also entirely different new and unfamiliar, foreign and peculiar IV. I accepted defeat No more commas or semi-colons We have reached the couplet of our free formed sonnet— I was never good with endings, I don’t think I’ll ever be, So darling I hand you the pen, set us both free.
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56
Sunlight, dawning beyond the platform, Pink and gold harmonies, I look down, At the train tracks, Gravel, lost between the rails, Humble wooden planks, Aging silently, I wonder if I could walk on them, With the dancing autumn leaves, Couldn't I just jump, I could lay down on them, No goodbyes, no second thoughts, And take one last breathe... I take a step to the edge, The ground shudders, As if in disagreement Train racing round the bend, My one hope, My small window of opportunity, Gone, As I leave this town behind, On my train
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Dec 28, 2010
Dec 28, 2010 at 3:46 PM UTC
Train Tracks
Days go with you and bid goodbye Hours slide down and die And drape down The innocence of the Noun! With the experience of Adverbs Of place, time and frequency, the Verbs Replace the endearing use of Nouns (Slowly moving from lisping sounds ) To the stable use of personal Pronouns! Individuality stands alone keeping the Subject alone Sometimes with a defiant adolescent tone Distractions, doubts in the use of Determiners A shaky ground for the beginners! Disagreement with the Subject-Verb agreement begins Early during this period and lurks within, and at times springs With the Nouns like mathematics, rhetorics and news Without any tension to meddle in don’ts and dos! What I wish to say in a few sentences Is not enough about life’s infinite time and tenses! To deconstruct the grammar of growing up is not enough As adolescence is a diamond in the rough; It is a living discourse; both simple and tough Ironical, unpredictable, surprising, puzzling stuff Needs patience, pardon, perseverance and fun To handle its substance for every daughter and son!
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Aug 20, 2015
Aug 20, 2015 at 1:19 AM UTC
A Grammar of Growing Up
*Your mind, I can read through the mirror of dark eyes, no iris reading technology this, an ancient practice of lovers disagreement creeps in to your naughty mind don't I read it's alphabets and words? you still smile and act amiable, just to mislead me and  hide your war tactics. this little game of ours has a subtext of lust, in bed we translate it to a physical duel half moons of my nails etch  blood mark all over  your back your sharp teeth, give quick bites, lips nibble my earlobes, love play quickly become a rough and tumble game when you are the naked aggressor sitting above, I the victim, moving up and down, we inch forward to culminate in sweet thunder, you have your sweet revenge, my lover, like in times before, dissolving your disagreements, in my willing surrender to your charm,  warm naked body's entrapment, every time my dream*
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May 21, 2014
May 21, 2014 at 7:11 AM UTC
Sweet revenge ******
the truth forced a story that only he and she knows the struggles and ultimate fights that occur regularly they seem never content without a little disagreement. they both craved love , although both seem to be lusting for different desires with different flavors, and different types of taste. inescapable turmoil only to be under the sheets of the same bed every night.
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Aug 14, 2014
Aug 14, 2014 at 1:29 AM UTC
Feud
(Earnestly) I beg to move the motion Standing on the Order Paper In my name and those good names Of my Right Honourable Friends. Straight up, I’ll say, it’s right that we this House Should debate this issue, should pass judgement. That is democracy; that is our Right That others elsewhere struggle for in vain. Again I’ll say I do not disrespect The wavering of those not yet convinced. This is a tough choice and – yes – a stark one: To stand down our committed troops and turn back Or to hold firm and so continue on. I strongly believe that we must hold firm. The question most people will ask is not Why does it matter – no – but why so much? Well, as we brave this new Millenium And face up to the Nation’s greatest threat With our majority already stretched, A resignation from the cabinet, With all the other parties also split, With everywhere the closest of allies In disagreement while on different sides Those who usually would not agree Agree on this. The people, this parliament Echo the discord with an echo made Less bitter as time passes, not less grave. So why, then, does it matter quite so much? Because the outcome of our firm resolve Will find itself determining much more Than Iraq’s future and her peoples’ fate More than the liberty of an whole race Brutalized in Saddam’s sick sick name. It will in fact decide the way in which Britain, the world and we confront the threats Our right to liberty requires met. It will, what’s more, affect the UN’s role, EU relations, Transatlantic ties, The manners of the US in the world. It will prove the political pattern For a generation, perhaps more, to come. This is no longer the time to falter; I will not be party to such a course. This is now the time for this house to lead; To show that we will fearlessly confront Terror, tyranny and dictatorships Which threaten to put all our lives at risk. To show that at this moment of decision We have the courage, we have the vision To do the right thing. I beg to move the motion…
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Feb 22, 2011
Feb 22, 2011 at 1:58 AM UTC
Tony Blair 's Speech to Parliament on the Eve of the Iraq War
(Earnestly) I beg to move the motion Standing on the Order Paper In my name and those good names Of my Right Honourable Friends. Straight up, I’ll say, it’s right that we this House Should debate this issue, should pass judgement. That is democracy; that is our Right That others elsewhere struggle for in vain. Again I’ll say I do not disrespect The wavering of those not yet convinced. This is a tough choice and – yes – a stark one: To stand down our committed troops and turn back Or to hold firm and so continue on. I strongly believe that we must hold firm. The question most people will ask is not Why does it matter – no – but why so much? Well, as we brave this new Millenium And face up to the Nation’s greatest threat With our majority already stretched, A resignation from the cabinet, With all the other parties also split, With everywhere the closest of allies In disagreement while on different sides Those who usually would not agree Agree on this. The people, this parliament Echo the discord with an echo made Less bitter as time passes, not less grave. So why, then, does it matter quite so much? Because the outcome of our firm resolve Will find itself determining much more Than Iraq’s future and her peoples’ fate More than the liberty of an whole race Brutalized in Saddam’s sick sick name. It will in fact decide the way in which Britain, the world and we confront the threats Our right to liberty requires met. It will, what’s more, affect the UN’s role, EU relations, Transatlantic ties, The manners of the US in the world. It will prove the political pattern For a generation, perhaps more, to come. This is no longer the time to falter; I will not be party to such a course. This is now the time for this house to lead; To show that we will fearlessly confront Terror, tyranny and dictatorships Which threaten to put all our lives at risk. To show that at this moment of decision We have the courage, we have the vision To do the right thing. I beg to move the motion…
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50
Gene and Jenny Taylor Had long been man and wife But a heinous disagreement Took a hold upon their life For each bemoaned their tackle It was Gene who started first He justified why dangly bits Were easily the worst “They tangle in your underwear And twist themselves about If I sit down in football shorts They try to wriggle out They chafe on nearly everything They’re difficult to dry And when it’s hot an humid out They’re welded to your thigh” Jenny swiftly countered him “Well ***** are surely worst For shaving is laborious And not all lips are pursed The periods are painful With a week of aggravation And we use three times the toilet roll And cause deforestation “ But Gene had more to muster “Well the ***** is a ******* And hiding an ******** Is a skill each man has mastered They lead us into jeopardy They always take the **** And first thing in the morning They’ve a tendency to miss” So Jenny said “Vaginas Are a curse between the thighs And lady bits look monstrous To anyone with eyes They’re prone to thrush and fondling And embryo gestation ***** are only any good For use in aviation” Gene and Jenny caught their breath The stalemate was called For genitals, the lips and ***** Or **** and hairy ***** Are vital to our species More useful than they seem And you’ll see a marked improvement When they’re working as a team
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May 15, 2014
May 15, 2014 at 7:14 AM UTC
Knobs and ***** A Comparative Study
In God We Trust, For He Invented Reasonable Doubt In Courtroom of the State of New York, Part 62, where the only decoration extant, in gold leaf letters, a magnificent joke, In God We Trust. Words so incongruous to the real time drama, a poorly acted Law and Order episode of which I partake, (as Juror No. 1, ergo you may address me as Mr. Jury Foreman), they stun me into stupefaction every time we enter and the Bailiff pronounces with much gravitas, "Jury Entering" A potpourri of a dozen Manhattanites, with wisdom acquired by the singular virtue of having attained the robust age of 18, noteworthy for being free of criminal record, having been nominated to sit upon the jury that will decide the fate of one Eric B., for what he may have done upon West 11th Street one Summer night in June Two Thousand and Eleven, If adjudged guilty, New York State can take, incarcerate him for up to 15 years of his life Predicate felon by the age of twenty seven, Eric's resume consists of four felonies, two misdemeanors a wife and two little children, and a partridge in a pear tree. Facts turgid and muddy, Eric tells a story one juror calls a confection of lies, no one murmurs much disagreement in the tiny, overheated room we have been sequestered to replay the 2012 version of Twelve Angry Men. But I am not his peer, nor am I a seer, common sense says if appearances are what they seem to be, he aided and abetted in the forcible taking of a nice Connecticut lady's cell phone with his brother who just happened to be released from prison earlier that day A convoluted tale ripe with inanities is told, upshot is our defendant's tale, his robust defense, portrays him as the unluckiest man in the whole world, a good Samaritan, *{chasing after the thief, ** ** his bro}* against whom events have conspired In Manhattan can be a harsh place, where the natives a tough lot, tougher than the Indians from whom they stole it all. Our bridges we sell to out-of-towers, all it takes is one to say, what the heck, reasonable doubt is a ***** to overcome so let him go Jan, 2012
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Sep 17, 2013
Sep 17, 2013 at 4:45 PM UTC
In God We Trust, For He Invented Reasonable Doubt
In God We Trust, For He Invented Reasonable Doubt In Courtroom of the State of New York, Part 62, where the only decoration extant, in gold leaf letters, a magnificent joke, In God We Trust. Words so incongruous to the real time drama, a poorly acted Law and Order episode of which I partake, (as Juror No. 1, ergo you may address me as Mr. Jury Foreman), they stun me into stupefaction every time we enter and the Bailiff pronounces with much gravitas, "Jury Entering" A potpourri of a dozen Manhattanites, with wisdom acquired by the singular virtue of having attained the robust age of 18, noteworthy for being free of criminal record, having been nominated to sit upon the jury that will decide the fate of one Eric B., for what he may have done upon West 11th Street one Summer night in June Two Thousand and Eleven, If adjudged guilty, New York State can take, incarcerate him for up to 15 years of his life Predicate felon by the age of twenty seven, Eric's resume consists of four felonies, two misdemeanors a wife and two little children, and a partridge in a pear tree. Facts turgid and muddy, Eric tells a story one juror calls a confection of lies, no one murmurs much disagreement in the tiny, overheated room we have been sequestered to replay the 2012 version of Twelve Angry Men. But I am not his peer, nor am I a seer, common sense says if appearances are what they seem to be, he aided and abetted in the forcible taking of a nice Connecticut lady's cell phone with his brother who just happened to be released from prison earlier that day A convoluted tale ripe with inanities is told, upshot is our defendant's tale, his robust defense, portrays him as the unluckiest man in the whole world, a good Samaritan, *{chasing after the thief, ** ** his bro}* against whom events have conspired In Manhattan can be a harsh place, where the natives a tough lot, tougher than the Indians from whom they stole it all. Our bridges we sell to out-of-towers, all it takes is one to say, what the heck, reasonable doubt is a ***** to overcome so let him go Jan, 2012
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80
would you believe me if i told you that you are the universe in which i live in, the air in which i breathe, the land on which i walk? would you shake your head in disagreement if i mentioned how your smile acts as my sun, your voice a melody that lingers in my favourite songs, your eyes as lambent as the beautiful night moon? would you think of me in the far future on quiet evenings by the windowsill as you reminisce the times we spent together, the memories i replay constantly in my mind, of days i wish will never die? would you? i hope you do. i hope you do.
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Aug 17, 2017
Aug 17, 2017 at 12:55 AM UTC
would you?
They stuff cotton down your mouth Because it’s the only thing that doesn't choke you When they try to muffle your sounds out But you scream with your eyes better than you Ever did with words It’s a sharp sound that hurts to look at And you knew that contradictions were the best arguments you said “Arguments are the best way to show someone How much you love them because you are giving them your words And that is the best thing to give.” disagreement said “Or you could give em’ Some of your M&M;’s.” They hung mosaics of your destruction on the walls and called it “Art” So you punched a hole through your bathroom mirror and called it “Creation” Spent the fourth day naming your shards “Zues” “Cordelia”. Saved the sharpest one And called it “Helen”, said “Pain only ever hurts when its beautiful.” Disagreement said “You’re a ****** up sadomasochistic ***** On the fifth day you dreamt your father held you Except it wasn't your father it was a ********** who found you frozen to a street light On the sixth day you called me and said: “I have a name for creation; It’s destruction.” On the seventh day they found you praying to the images on a TV screen Holding onto a mathematical calculation in your hand Calling it the formula to happiness The numbers spelled out D R U G S
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Jan 10, 2013
Jan 10, 2013 at 4:52 PM UTC
They found you
a disagreement       between my bones and my logic       my body and my mind       torn between a choice       and choosing --       ****** if i do, ****** if i don't.       my bones and       my logic and       my heart at war,       destroying this vessel, but can't we all just get along?
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Sep 29, 2014
Sep 29, 2014 at 10:42 AM UTC
3
Have you ever experienced the disagreement between your brain, heart, and body? when brain heart and body just outcry to each other and then you lose? I have once when I had my firstlove first heartbreak I cried everday for months everytime i closed my eyes in the shower in the bed everytime i was alone My brain told me not to cry yes because i deserved better than him because he didnt deserve my tears but my heart hurts i felt the physical pain in my chest my body that was the first argument between my brain, heart, and body I loved dressing up and doing make up I loved shopping I loved watching movies those all are my hobbies but I stopped doing them all for months I tried thousand times because my brain told me that it was a good escape and healing but my heart wasnt interested at all and my body kept screaming to sleep I loved sleeping I'd rather spend my time to sleep than play with my friends but I couldnt sleep for 3 days straight trust me I closed my eyes for hours but i just didnt sleep and sleeping pill was my last choice I loved food but I couldnt eat for 3 days straight I wish i was being over dramatic but no I couldnt eat not because i didnt want to eat i wish it was the case but no Lord knows i really wanted to eat but every food that crept in my mouth would be thrown out again every single time I just couldnt eat literally for 3 days straight My brain always gave the solutions that I really wanted But my heart always seemed not interested And my body rejected all the attempts that I did that time... I just didnt know what to do... other than try to survive and never give up to love my brain my heart my body
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Oct 11, 2017
Oct 11, 2017 at 3:17 AM UTC
Brain, Heart, Body
Have you ever experienced the disagreement between your brain, heart, and body? when brain heart and body just outcry to each other and then you lose? I have once when I had my firstlove first heartbreak I cried everday for months everytime i closed my eyes in the shower in the bed everytime i was alone My brain told me not to cry yes because i deserved better than him because he didnt deserve my tears but my heart hurts i felt the physical pain in my chest my body that was the first argument between my brain, heart, and body I loved dressing up and doing make up I loved shopping I loved watching movies those all are my hobbies but I stopped doing them all for months I tried thousand times because my brain told me that it was a good escape and healing but my heart wasnt interested at all and my body kept screaming to sleep I loved sleeping I'd rather spend my time to sleep than play with my friends but I couldnt sleep for 3 days straight trust me I closed my eyes for hours but i just didnt sleep and sleeping pill was my last choice I loved food but I couldnt eat for 3 days straight I wish i was being over dramatic but no I couldnt eat not because i didnt want to eat i wish it was the case but no Lord knows i really wanted to eat but every food that crept in my mouth would be thrown out again every single time I just couldnt eat literally for 3 days straight My brain always gave the solutions that I really wanted But my heart always seemed not interested And my body rejected all the attempts that I did that time... I just didnt know what to do... other than try to survive and never give up to love my brain my heart my body
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