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"disgraced" poems
Brain, brain go away Don't want to listen one more day Already lonely and afraid Feel insecure and full of shame Brain, brain don't act this way You're always angry; Filled with hate You know we're joined; Can't separate Yourself your punching in the face Brain, brain what can I say To make it so you see things straight Don't know how much more I can take Of constant warring and debate Brain, brain it's getting late This journey's not some endless race Life's flying by and at this pace Forget a win; Not gonna place Brain, brain let's medicate I'll feed you drugs and we'll sedate The only way to mitigate Discrepancies we generate Brain, brain we sadly waste This outcome feels like it was fate But never was there a sealed date Fulfilling what we self-create Brain, brain so much we faced Success so close could almost taste Instead our tail we always chased We'll die alone sad and disgraced
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Mar 7, 2019
Mar 7, 2019 at 9:48 AM UTC
Brain, brain go away
Route 84 would not lend me the light of a star last night Radio blazing at 75 mph nonsense noise to chew gum by Crackling political commentary Static of distance and thick clouds Invisible mountains blocking Memories seeping through the cracks coating the music in a film I rub my eyes watch myself punch alert buttons But it’s the angels’ jukebox tonight Roll down the window Watch the heat escape Summer again I am building a castle of ancient stones pulverized by relentless tides Dragged across maps by mastodons and mammoth glaciers The scouring hiss the ocean sighs Time has lulled these smoothly rolling them in the softest hands of sand and gels of life’s comings and goings tenderly tumbling in the millionth moonrise— Time deposits them here wet and glistening For the girl with the plaid two-piece to gather Shoulders sun-burnt barely say one week only, one week of the fifty two “It’s the time of the season…” and daddies on the beach are watching…. She has chosen yet another stone And the castle continues— in oblivion to all but her legend…      The queen will be safe here      from the rabble      The disgraced Tristan will surely seek her      Among these lofty cliffs      Between the raging circuit of the tide      Here winds forbid the vengeful mob      Here lovers learn      the debt of love’s bad timing      “Drink ye all of it!”      --the potion that assigns our sorrow….      She will not sleep—      while I chew this gum--  GUM? Roll down the window! Angels escape with the heat Waking me with the brush of their wings As that eighteen-wheeler hugs my flank And leans on the horn Lights flashing Rude rumbling under right tires Tantrum of snow In the draft of mass and velocity …and the angels? They’ve chosen another good one! They must’ve liked the 80’s Their wings slapping the windshield madly   Their hands steady the wheel
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Sep 13, 2016
Sep 13, 2016 at 1:20 PM UTC
Angel's Jukebox
Route 84 would not lend me the light of a star last night Radio blazing at 75 mph nonsense noise to chew gum by Crackling political commentary Static of distance and thick clouds Invisible mountains blocking Memories seeping through the cracks coating the music in a film I rub my eyes watch myself punch alert buttons But it’s the angels’ jukebox tonight Roll down the window Watch the heat escape Summer again I am building a castle of ancient stones pulverized by relentless tides Dragged across maps by mastodons and mammoth glaciers The scouring hiss the ocean sighs Time has lulled these smoothly rolling them in the softest hands of sand and gels of life’s comings and goings tenderly tumbling in the millionth moonrise— Time deposits them here wet and glistening For the girl with the plaid two-piece to gather Shoulders sun-burnt barely say one week only, one week of the fifty two “It’s the time of the season…” and daddies on the beach are watching…. She has chosen yet another stone And the castle continues— in oblivion to all but her legend…      The queen will be safe here      from the rabble      The disgraced Tristan will surely seek her      Among these lofty cliffs      Between the raging circuit of the tide      Here winds forbid the vengeful mob      Here lovers learn      the debt of love’s bad timing      “Drink ye all of it!”      --the potion that assigns our sorrow….      She will not sleep—      while I chew this gum--  GUM? Roll down the window! Angels escape with the heat Waking me with the brush of their wings As that eighteen-wheeler hugs my flank And leans on the horn Lights flashing Rude rumbling under right tires Tantrum of snow In the draft of mass and velocity …and the angels? They’ve chosen another good one! They must’ve liked the 80’s Their wings slapping the windshield madly   Their hands steady the wheel
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63
Already over the sea from her old spouse she comes, the blonde goddess whose frosty wheels bring day. Why do you hurry, Aurora? Hold off, so may the birds shed ritual blood each year for Memnon's shade. Now it's good to lie in my mistress's tender arms; if ever, now it's good to feel her near. Now drowsiness is richest, the morning air is cool, and birds sing shrilly from their tender throats. Why do you hurry, dreaded by men and dreaded by girls? Draw back your dewy reins with your crimson hand. The sailor marks the stars more clearly before you rise, not raoming aimlessly across the sea; the traveller, though weary, arises when you come, and the soldier sets his savage hand to arms; you're first to see the farmers wield their heavy hoes and to call slow oxen under the curving yoke; you rob boys of their sleep and give them over to schools, where tender hands must bear the savage switch; and you send reckless fools to pledge themselves in court, where they take ruinous losses through one word; the lawyer and the pleader take no delight in you, for each must rise and wrangle with new torts; and you ensure that women's chores are never done, calling the spinner's hands back to her wool. All this I'd bear; but who would bear that girls must rise at dawn, unless himself he has no girl? How many times I've wished Night would not yield to you, the stars not fade and flee before your face! How many times I've wished the wind would smash your wheels, your steeds would stumble on a cloud and fall! Jealous, why do you hurry? If your son is black, it's since his mother's heart is that same color. How I wish Tithonus could still tell tales of you: no goddess would be more disgraced in heaven. Since he is endless eons old, you rise and flee at dawn to the chariot the old man hates, but if some Cephalus were lying in your arms, you'd cry out, 'O run slowly, steeds of night! ' Why should this lover pay, if your husband withers with age? Was I the matchmaker who brought him to you? Remember how much sleep was given to her loved youth by Luna - and she's beautiful as you. The father of gods himself, to see you all the less, joined two nights into one for his desires. I'd finished my complaint. You could tell she'd heard: she blushed; and yet the day rose at its usual time.
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10.1k
Morning
Already over the sea from her old spouse she comes, the blonde goddess whose frosty wheels bring day. Why do you hurry, Aurora? Hold off, so may the birds shed ritual blood each year for Memnon's shade. Now it's good to lie in my mistress's tender arms; if ever, now it's good to feel her near. Now drowsiness is richest, the morning air is cool, and birds sing shrilly from their tender throats. Why do you hurry, dreaded by men and dreaded by girls? Draw back your dewy reins with your crimson hand. The sailor marks the stars more clearly before you rise, not raoming aimlessly across the sea; the traveller, though weary, arises when you come, and the soldier sets his savage hand to arms; you're first to see the farmers wield their heavy hoes and to call slow oxen under the curving yoke; you rob boys of their sleep and give them over to schools, where tender hands must bear the savage switch; and you send reckless fools to pledge themselves in court, where they take ruinous losses through one word; the lawyer and the pleader take no delight in you, for each must rise and wrangle with new torts; and you ensure that women's chores are never done, calling the spinner's hands back to her wool. All this I'd bear; but who would bear that girls must rise at dawn, unless himself he has no girl? How many times I've wished Night would not yield to you, the stars not fade and flee before your face! How many times I've wished the wind would smash your wheels, your steeds would stumble on a cloud and fall! Jealous, why do you hurry? If your son is black, it's since his mother's heart is that same color. How I wish Tithonus could still tell tales of you: no goddess would be more disgraced in heaven. Since he is endless eons old, you rise and flee at dawn to the chariot the old man hates, but if some Cephalus were lying in your arms, you'd cry out, 'O run slowly, steeds of night! ' Why should this lover pay, if your husband withers with age? Was I the matchmaker who brought him to you? Remember how much sleep was given to her loved youth by Luna - and she's beautiful as you. The father of gods himself, to see you all the less, joined two nights into one for his desires. I'd finished my complaint. You could tell she'd heard: she blushed; and yet the day rose at its usual time.
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46
Dancing under this beautiful moonlight My wings brought us high as the mountains could reach; Listening to the songs of the wind whispering in our ears; As the stars illuminated us with its light And through our hearts beats in unison Our love grew strong as time passed; For I looking in your ever green eyes shines Our memories, our histories of hardships Like raging waves of ocean's wrath upon us; Like you looking in my ever violet eyes Brings back memories of how we hold our hands Under those cherry blossoms in spring's time Of the time we survived the stormy seas; Of us looking up in the night's sky starry view And of us looking through our own breath in the winter's cold night Like you said "you are my darkness and i am your light" It is a fate of two lovely souls of opposites Truly one and extraordinary yet never old; Yet the story of our love was heard from the heavens and hell Eldest, my master, the God of Gods was disgraced; Hades, your father, the king of the underworld was disgusted; For I an angel, a guardian of Eldest's kingdom Fell in love with the darkness' son; Our love caused chaos and wrath in the heaven's peace; And made hell burn a thousand times its self in anger; Eldest, whom was displease, cast my death Upon my soul and separated us with his command Like I, a flower dying with its own roots Withered and had slowly losing its own life; Yet as we stand forth and supported each other Our hearts connected even after death's command As the reaper stand and awaits to take your soul, To take you back to the place you belong; There is nothing we could do but accept this inevitable As our beating crimson heart cries silently; For even the Wraths and the Gods do us apart Our fathers and masters hated this love; Like the night meets the light at dawn; Our souls will find its way back in each others arm; Even us can not cease this burning desire To never let go of our ties; In this world or in our illusions It is our story worth dying with; Even the history goes on, we shall live in eternity As the story of the night that meets the light at dawn.
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Jul 25, 2018
Jul 25, 2018 at 6:28 AM UTC
The Night Meets the Light at Dawn
Dancing under this beautiful moonlight My wings brought us high as the mountains could reach; Listening to the songs of the wind whispering in our ears; As the stars illuminated us with its light And through our hearts beats in unison Our love grew strong as time passed; For I looking in your ever green eyes shines Our memories, our histories of hardships Like raging waves of ocean's wrath upon us; Like you looking in my ever violet eyes Brings back memories of how we hold our hands Under those cherry blossoms in spring's time Of the time we survived the stormy seas; Of us looking up in the night's sky starry view And of us looking through our own breath in the winter's cold night Like you said "you are my darkness and i am your light" It is a fate of two lovely souls of opposites Truly one and extraordinary yet never old; Yet the story of our love was heard from the heavens and hell Eldest, my master, the God of Gods was disgraced; Hades, your father, the king of the underworld was disgusted; For I an angel, a guardian of Eldest's kingdom Fell in love with the darkness' son; Our love caused chaos and wrath in the heaven's peace; And made hell burn a thousand times its self in anger; Eldest, whom was displease, cast my death Upon my soul and separated us with his command Like I, a flower dying with its own roots Withered and had slowly losing its own life; Yet as we stand forth and supported each other Our hearts connected even after death's command As the reaper stand and awaits to take your soul, To take you back to the place you belong; There is nothing we could do but accept this inevitable As our beating crimson heart cries silently; For even the Wraths and the Gods do us apart Our fathers and masters hated this love; Like the night meets the light at dawn; Our souls will find its way back in each others arm; Even us can not cease this burning desire To never let go of our ties; In this world or in our illusions It is our story worth dying with; Even the history goes on, we shall live in eternity As the story of the night that meets the light at dawn.
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45
the world sits on the wing of a dove being swallowed whole by a fiery goddess descended from heaven on a chariot of ivy i am incarcerated by shaking flesh and itching cloth the road before me is giant and knows no bounds the graveyard is warm and wet with spirits and dew and red clouds are born from fire in the dawn there is an intelligent horse being ridden by a snarling insect and this man has come to claim our souls our sunset blood burns boils blisters until a million animals wounded i'm still alive, transfigure me into a creator choke up my nostrils with the scent of your *** invade my lungs with the burn of your god caress my toungue with the infinite promise enter my brain from above, and regurgitate your anxiety on me slimy worms devour a psychadelic tomato laughing into transendency, an eyeless eel has dissappeared into a pocket i speak from balconies, from terrible heights, from hastened windowsills in a million desperate quarrelling cities this is where i **** up illusion, i give up to despondency i ring the great iron bell that resounds with corruption, with hatred, with hideous *** and admiration, i scream and cavort on rooftops alone with a black & blue midnight covered in electric lights and gunpowder tongues here comes the disintegration of my mind disgraced by the eye of the earth and spat into a realm of salivating light i am swimming through digested heartbreak and melancholy livers sickened by madness and homemade bombs and ****** the rainclouds carry a truckload of babies' hearts and it's raining eyes over the city now the cry of the mind escapes from waving mouths in impotence as millions of bacteria invade the brain may these lines be answered by the bird of the sun by the worm at my ear by the sight of my skeleton by the stench of ***** in the air by the dead gong shivering through midnight by the bleeding eye of abandoned dreams by the prophets in proclamation by the god of all my sorrows
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Nov 30, 2011
Nov 30, 2011 at 9:55 PM UTC
intelligent horse
the world sits on the wing of a dove being swallowed whole by a fiery goddess descended from heaven on a chariot of ivy i am incarcerated by shaking flesh and itching cloth the road before me is giant and knows no bounds the graveyard is warm and wet with spirits and dew and red clouds are born from fire in the dawn there is an intelligent horse being ridden by a snarling insect and this man has come to claim our souls our sunset blood burns boils blisters until a million animals wounded i'm still alive, transfigure me into a creator choke up my nostrils with the scent of your *** invade my lungs with the burn of your god caress my toungue with the infinite promise enter my brain from above, and regurgitate your anxiety on me slimy worms devour a psychadelic tomato laughing into transendency, an eyeless eel has dissappeared into a pocket i speak from balconies, from terrible heights, from hastened windowsills in a million desperate quarrelling cities this is where i **** up illusion, i give up to despondency i ring the great iron bell that resounds with corruption, with hatred, with hideous *** and admiration, i scream and cavort on rooftops alone with a black & blue midnight covered in electric lights and gunpowder tongues here comes the disintegration of my mind disgraced by the eye of the earth and spat into a realm of salivating light i am swimming through digested heartbreak and melancholy livers sickened by madness and homemade bombs and ****** the rainclouds carry a truckload of babies' hearts and it's raining eyes over the city now the cry of the mind escapes from waving mouths in impotence as millions of bacteria invade the brain may these lines be answered by the bird of the sun by the worm at my ear by the sight of my skeleton by the stench of ***** in the air by the dead gong shivering through midnight by the bleeding eye of abandoned dreams by the prophets in proclamation by the god of all my sorrows
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40
Concerned with The rapid pace At which women Are being Disgraced. I pray Confused by Their acceptance Of the outright Level of Disrespect. I pray I pray for Men to understand You degrade yourself When you dishonor women. I pray for Women to demand Their value, worth and Respect from men. I pray for Children to be Protected and shielded Able to retain a high esteem. I pray for Humanity To return To it's divine purpose. I pray for Love To abide In our hearts and mind I pray for you I pray me I pray for family I pray for harmony Understanding we need Whole men             able to love Whole women       able to raise Whole children     able to Achieve Greatness I pray ©Tina Thompson 2012
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Jan 20, 2012
Jan 20, 2012 at 9:35 AM UTC
Greatness
There will never be anyone like you Broken by the world, mended by pretend Nobody like you, a mirror passed and disgraced Someone who can hold me while I cry The same way you did, without asking why Understanding the battles I fight To keep from breathing smoke To keep from drinking fire Please come back I know we could Everyone makes mistakes Let this be yours
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Aug 22, 2018
Aug 22, 2018 at 1:59 PM UTC
Let's Play Hide and Seek
Tired with all these, for restful death I cry, As to behold desert a beggar born, And needy nothing trimmed in jollity, And purest faith unhappily forsworn, And gilded honour shamefully misplaced, And maiden virtue rudely strumpeted, And right perfection wrongfully disgraced, And strength by limping sway disablèd And art made tongue-tied by authority, And folly doctor-like controlling skill, And simple truth miscalled simplicity, And captive good attending captain ill. Tired with all these, from these would I be gone, Save that to die, I leave my love alone.
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4.7k
Sonnet 066: Tired With All These, For Restful Death I Cry
We had a color you and I. You were a tantalizing white, vibrant yet subtle. You had the power to magnify everything because of that silent manifestation you comprise when a drop of any other shade was splattered on you, making it incredibly vivid. You were what poets used as muse for there was nothing purer than the flawless white of that glorious spirit yet you were neither dumbfounded nor disappointed by it. I was a disaster-prone black, ill-fated yet beautiful. I made the light seem brighter, more picturesque; a comparison for better accomplishment. I came out at night to walk the terrors of the hours of darkness, untouched because of this gloomy soul. I was what the holly book prohibits to touch, to indulge all sensations because to drink from me was to imbibe a gallon of sin. Sadly, beauty and unpleasant have a curious way of finding each other. I don’t remember which of us found the other first; if it was I who saw you shine from miles away or if it was you who found me huddled in a corner. We were gods you and I. we created a love that transversed worlds. We shamed Orpheus and Eurydice. We disgraced Torin and Keelycael. There was nothing more powerful than the passion we twisted and at the same time nothing was more potent. We came from different places, you from the havens and I from the shallow depths of hell; and everything we made became a freak of nature.     We created the color gray. We created the color gray from our undefeated essences. We made an unremarkable and unloved color from our insurmountable selves for the reason that we were too prideful to give up each other and at the same time ourselves. We made an abhorred thing because we were never meant for each other. I realized when I saw you walk away, that last dreadful night, the white in you was somewhat fazed and I looked in the mirror that same night to see the darkness in me leaking. There was a little bit of gray in both of us. That was when I realized we stole pieces of each other. Yes, my love, we made a color gray.
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Aug 21, 2018
Aug 21, 2018 at 8:03 AM UTC
We had a color, you and I
We had a color you and I. You were a tantalizing white, vibrant yet subtle. You had the power to magnify everything because of that silent manifestation you comprise when a drop of any other shade was splattered on you, making it incredibly vivid. You were what poets used as muse for there was nothing purer than the flawless white of that glorious spirit yet you were neither dumbfounded nor disappointed by it. I was a disaster-prone black, ill-fated yet beautiful. I made the light seem brighter, more picturesque; a comparison for better accomplishment. I came out at night to walk the terrors of the hours of darkness, untouched because of this gloomy soul. I was what the holly book prohibits to touch, to indulge all sensations because to drink from me was to imbibe a gallon of sin. Sadly, beauty and unpleasant have a curious way of finding each other. I don’t remember which of us found the other first; if it was I who saw you shine from miles away or if it was you who found me huddled in a corner. We were gods you and I. we created a love that transversed worlds. We shamed Orpheus and Eurydice. We disgraced Torin and Keelycael. There was nothing more powerful than the passion we twisted and at the same time nothing was more potent. We came from different places, you from the havens and I from the shallow depths of hell; and everything we made became a freak of nature.     We created the color gray. We created the color gray from our undefeated essences. We made an unremarkable and unloved color from our insurmountable selves for the reason that we were too prideful to give up each other and at the same time ourselves. We made an abhorred thing because we were never meant for each other. I realized when I saw you walk away, that last dreadful night, the white in you was somewhat fazed and I looked in the mirror that same night to see the darkness in me leaking. There was a little bit of gray in both of us. That was when I realized we stole pieces of each other. Yes, my love, we made a color gray.
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9
Broken. Time. Her only token. She's fallen from grace. He just wants space. Broken. Disgraced. Yearning. Rocks. A shattered window. A broken heart. She's quite distraught. She trusted him. Jaded. **** him. Broken. So far gone. Withdrawn. A broken glass. She resembles. Crystal clear. Translucent. Underneath. Deceit. Her heart, unsewn. Her mind, so far blown. Broken. She can't see her token. Her life. The value. Broken.
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Jan 13, 2013
Jan 13, 2013 at 5:51 AM UTC
Broken
Downfall she claims Dripping in disease Her dress ripped Trees dying Holes cover the seams Tattered Sewage covered Disgraced Ugly Taking her vitality The mass living upon her soil Population at a high Charging her for corruption Her hair cut In shambles Uneven proportioned Greed is the man in lead Unfairly held to shame Her belly rumbles Earthquakes Crack her skin Aching Oozing her blood Tsunamis wiping out existence She violently Throws tantrums A twister destroying houses Seeking attention Under validated Unnoticed for exotic jungle humanity Innocence Her music lifts The mountain breeze Sagebrush rustles Birds whisper Squirrels leaping Her captivating body sings Weak man made her break Small art gone Ice caps melting into the abyss Taking scraps Leftover bits Her soul Missing Stipping her clothing ******* her gold Her shirt selfishly torn Naked she became Her animals hungry Oceans sickened Our anguish Is revenge Knocked out She's becoming manipulated belief She's in debt to the population Mother will reclaim Her dynasty We the people will be left In emptiness
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May 11, 2016
May 11, 2016 at 8:29 PM UTC
Mother earth is her name
Who is the world to define mine right or wrong? I am the one who decides it on my own The world a crazy place, people so weird Finding faults everywhere, while hiding in their beard When you stand for the right, They will advocate the wrong Justifying the same With million excuses in their thong Nirbhaya ***** they say girl was characterless Skirts, shorts, boyfriend, night shows - shameless And inchoate, rightly arousing men to **** One in coma now a four year old gang ***** Society mum when humanity disgraced??? Where are the people of so called decent family? Who judge n criticize from hair to lamellae If smoking kills, why is it not banned?? Beef eaters killed, man eaters praised on the land Alcohol, marijuana bad for health While more people die from terrorist attacks Crores are spent to maintain a terrorist To a soldier dying for the country, not even lakhs A rich is a witch flaunting their gold A poor a leech for things they cannot afford? Without external beauty a person is a waste? Your pennyless pocket how shall I grade? Other’s loss is a righteous act of God? Yours is a tragedy, unfortunate loss??? And then you have religion & morals To justify your notions Right or wrong, judgement filled oceans I am a free spirit, Born not to please your beliefs Enough of hypocrite world I see Killing and dividing on castes and creeds.                  © Dr. PRERNA SINGLA, 13 Oct. 2015
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Oct 19, 2015
Oct 19, 2015 at 5:00 PM UTC
STANDARDS OF RIGHT & WRONG
for AR and Maria, oh heck, for The Crew **A dog ear is a phrase that refers to the folded down corner of a book page, a dog ear can serve as a bookmark. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dog_ears** ~~~~~~ we fold a page corner down, here we pause in this poetry book, for now, a marker of incompletion, or not a passage, a phrase, whole stands on its own, but today crew, slated for an exit, a return-to-someday, but aside, aside, discarded till... *all on that day run to the mountain, the mountain wont hide you run to the sea, the sea will not have you and run to your grave, your grave will not hold you all on that day* so I, sinnerman, injured my book, I hurt that page disgraced, act of disgraceful, but I am injured and don't have no cares but come the day of return the day I hope to must to believe in, twice as much, all on that day, when the sea, the mountains, and the risen dead, have me back, to my proper place even though will be dog tired, to that dog-eared page, in that worn old notebook return, pick up my sticks, my pens, that have no erasers, start again just where I know, just when I don't, but this why I know, but to that dog-eared return, the page where I died, I shall return, all on that day ~~~~~~~~~~ Oh, sinner man, where you're gonna run to all on that day? Oh, sinner man, where you're gonna run to? Oh, sinner man, where you're gonna run to? Oh, sinner man, where you're gonna run to all on that day? Run to the moon, "Moon, won't you hide me?" Run to the sea, "Sea, won't you hide me?" Run to the sun, "Sun, won't you hide me all on that day?" Lord said, "Sinner man, moon'll be a bleeding" Lord said, "Sinner man, sea'll be a sinking" Lord said, "Sinner man, sun'll be a freezing all on that day" Oh, sinner man, where you're gonna run to? Oh, sinner man, where you're gonna run to? Oh, sinner man, where you're gonna run to all on that day? Run to the Lord, "Lord, won't You hide me?" Run to the Lord, "Lord, won't You hide me?" Run, run, "Lord, won't You hide me all on that day?" Lord said, "Sinner man, you should've been a praying" Lord said, "Sinner man, should've been a praying" Lord said, "Sinner man, should've been a praying all on that day" Oh, sinner man, where you're gonna run to? Oh, sinner man, where you're gonna run to? Oh, sinner man, where you're gonna run to all on that day? Oh, sinner man, where you're gonna run to? Oh, sinner man, where you're gonna run to? Oh, sinner man, where you're gonna run to all on that day? www.youtube.com/watch?v=H4h55nVbt4c
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May 18, 2014
May 18, 2014 at 11:41 AM UTC
One more for the road... all on that day, dog ear'd
for AR and Maria, oh heck, for The Crew **A dog ear is a phrase that refers to the folded down corner of a book page, a dog ear can serve as a bookmark. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dog_ears** ~~~~~~ we fold a page corner down, here we pause in this poetry book, for now, a marker of incompletion, or not a passage, a phrase, whole stands on its own, but today crew, slated for an exit, a return-to-someday, but aside, aside, discarded till... *all on that day run to the mountain, the mountain wont hide you run to the sea, the sea will not have you and run to your grave, your grave will not hold you all on that day* so I, sinnerman, injured my book, I hurt that page disgraced, act of disgraceful, but I am injured and don't have no cares but come the day of return the day I hope to must to believe in, twice as much, all on that day, when the sea, the mountains, and the risen dead, have me back, to my proper place even though will be dog tired, to that dog-eared page, in that worn old notebook return, pick up my sticks, my pens, that have no erasers, start again just where I know, just when I don't, but this why I know, but to that dog-eared return, the page where I died, I shall return, all on that day ~~~~~~~~~~ Oh, sinner man, where you're gonna run to all on that day? Oh, sinner man, where you're gonna run to? Oh, sinner man, where you're gonna run to? Oh, sinner man, where you're gonna run to all on that day? Run to the moon, "Moon, won't you hide me?" Run to the sea, "Sea, won't you hide me?" Run to the sun, "Sun, won't you hide me all on that day?" Lord said, "Sinner man, moon'll be a bleeding" Lord said, "Sinner man, sea'll be a sinking" Lord said, "Sinner man, sun'll be a freezing all on that day" Oh, sinner man, where you're gonna run to? Oh, sinner man, where you're gonna run to? Oh, sinner man, where you're gonna run to all on that day? Run to the Lord, "Lord, won't You hide me?" Run to the Lord, "Lord, won't You hide me?" Run, run, "Lord, won't You hide me all on that day?" Lord said, "Sinner man, you should've been a praying" Lord said, "Sinner man, should've been a praying" Lord said, "Sinner man, should've been a praying all on that day" Oh, sinner man, where you're gonna run to? Oh, sinner man, where you're gonna run to? Oh, sinner man, where you're gonna run to all on that day? Oh, sinner man, where you're gonna run to? Oh, sinner man, where you're gonna run to? Oh, sinner man, where you're gonna run to all on that day? www.youtube.com/watch?v=H4h55nVbt4c
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85
A needed look of happiness A smile upon my face But way deep down inside's a hole Let no one go behind the gates A changing shape A life that’s fake The effort needed I will make Ingredients A cake I bake Like shedding skin I’ve been replaced So 'cut-n-paste' but life don't taste My past aren't steps that I retrace Each day a race Response; quick haste Hide deep inside Alone disgraced A fall from grace A gracious thought Was never true Instead was bought A jagged pace Should be erased One big mistake How I was taught Repeating loop Forever caught An ending saved For me it's naught My life I’ll waste Won't have what's sought The things I got Did not embrace Peered over shoulders into space Life long mistake Dug my own grave My hopes and dreams I gave or trade All washed away The price I pay A birthing brightness Road was paved What love I had Chose not to stay None in return and none was saved A dying star begins to fade
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Sep 10, 2018
Sep 10, 2018 at 8:24 PM UTC
Chameleon
i am disgraced by the fact that i used the words "i love you" but i cannot think of any other set of words that is strong enough to describe my deep affection for you i love you with my frail heart and my battered soul i know that.. i love you for my heart leaps at the sound of your voice i love you for my stomach swirls at the warmth of your embrace i love you for my eyes swell at the thought of losing you i love you.
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Dec 3, 2014
Dec 3, 2014 at 4:02 AM UTC
a word used too much
And the trees about me, Let them be dry and leafless; let the rocks Groan with continual surges; and behind me Make all a desolation. Look, look, wenches! Paint me a cavernous waste shore Cast in the unstilled Cyclades, Paint me the bold anfractuous rocks Faced by the snarled and yelping seas. Display me ****** above Reviewing the insurgent gales Which tangle Ariadne’s hair And swell with haste the perjured sails. Morning stirs the feet and hands (Nausicaa and Polypheme). Gesture of orang-outang Rises from the sheets in steam. This withered root of knots of hair Slitted below and gashed with eyes, This oval O cropped out with teeth: The sickle motion from the thighs Jackknifes upward at the knees Then straightens out from heel to hip Pushing the framework of the bed And clawing at the pillow slip. Sweeney addressed full length to shave Broadbottomed, pink from nape to base, Knows the female temperament And wipes the suds around his face. (The lengthened shadow of a man Is history, said Emerson Who had not seen the silhouette Of Sweeney straddled in the sun.) Tests the razor on his leg Waiting until the shriek subsides. The epileptic on the bed Curves backward, clutching at her sides. The ladies of the corridor Find themselves involved, disgraced, Call witness to their principles And deprecate the lack of taste Observing that hysteria Might easily be misunderstood; Mrs. Turner intimates It does the house no sort of good. But Doris, towelled from the bath, Enters padding on broad feet, Bringing sal volatile And a glass of brandy neat.
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3.3k
Sweeney *****
And the trees about me, Let them be dry and leafless; let the rocks Groan with continual surges; and behind me Make all a desolation. Look, look, wenches! Paint me a cavernous waste shore Cast in the unstilled Cyclades, Paint me the bold anfractuous rocks Faced by the snarled and yelping seas. Display me ****** above Reviewing the insurgent gales Which tangle Ariadne’s hair And swell with haste the perjured sails. Morning stirs the feet and hands (Nausicaa and Polypheme). Gesture of orang-outang Rises from the sheets in steam. This withered root of knots of hair Slitted below and gashed with eyes, This oval O cropped out with teeth: The sickle motion from the thighs Jackknifes upward at the knees Then straightens out from heel to hip Pushing the framework of the bed And clawing at the pillow slip. Sweeney addressed full length to shave Broadbottomed, pink from nape to base, Knows the female temperament And wipes the suds around his face. (The lengthened shadow of a man Is history, said Emerson Who had not seen the silhouette Of Sweeney straddled in the sun.) Tests the razor on his leg Waiting until the shriek subsides. The epileptic on the bed Curves backward, clutching at her sides. The ladies of the corridor Find themselves involved, disgraced, Call witness to their principles And deprecate the lack of taste Observing that hysteria Might easily be misunderstood; Mrs. Turner intimates It does the house no sort of good. But Doris, towelled from the bath, Enters padding on broad feet, Bringing sal volatile And a glass of brandy neat.
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48
The little Prince of Persia Who's purpose is to depurse ya, Dispersing suits, clock off time city worker, Mark your card, inertia. He's no mathematician or magician But give him a dynamoment to take you to the cleaners, cause this one's mean a! Hellbent on humiliation he'll reverend run you to the station. He's counting cards, counting on ya till your seeing stars, K.O, ringside seat whilst you get parred, po, poker face he'll drive you gaga! So Loay and behold he might not be honourable, but he's willing and able to bring the last supper to this table. He's not called Jack but he's a joker, in guise he tries to choke ya, draw the ace but it won't help ya, cause you're a disgraced King and you've just been usurped sir, by that little Prince of Persia.
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Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 4:44 PM UTC
P.O.P
I saw you on the news again, aiming lies at civilians You work like a serf to abhor the herd, which was merged by Lords to bore and encore, like a trap door in a dungeon. What you earth and managed has got me famished, like the dense or pretentious, the meek and the senseless And type endings to the finest that cry less, the winos that digress, or the shyest who digest The plate which was purchased, paid to feed liars by the loudest were poisoned by us rebels running incense to the proudest. Violently passive when distracted, these masses wreck havoc to have their heads handed to them Sullen sweet to deter, you lure and reserve what is versed or inferred or implied or implored Like the goodbyed or complied or the ladies waiting with lunacy lining their luxury gowns Your disheveled and neat demanding appearance has me locked down with pirates and principle pilots Dulled sick, they spy less, echo with insist, enlist and exist As terrorists and presidents Marked with malice making misfits that were mocked and disgraced, maced or laced by daydreams and magicians to assist beggars behind blueprints constructing islands Which make slaves in to riots that capture journalists under wide tense To suspend or impend doom sent hell bent by your priestess You conduct chaos with fast hints, but quit slow when engaged with your conscience Touched by divine tricks Decided and destined, best in business Prince of the wise man Captain of the compassionate Comrades with the crack heads singing anthems in kingdoms We are heartbreakers painting bad graffiti
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Jun 10, 2014
Jun 10, 2014 at 12:07 AM UTC
Hypocrite
I saw you on the news again, aiming lies at civilians You work like a serf to abhor the herd, which was merged by Lords to bore and encore, like a trap door in a dungeon. What you earth and managed has got me famished, like the dense or pretentious, the meek and the senseless And type endings to the finest that cry less, the winos that digress, or the shyest who digest The plate which was purchased, paid to feed liars by the loudest were poisoned by us rebels running incense to the proudest. Violently passive when distracted, these masses wreck havoc to have their heads handed to them Sullen sweet to deter, you lure and reserve what is versed or inferred or implied or implored Like the goodbyed or complied or the ladies waiting with lunacy lining their luxury gowns Your disheveled and neat demanding appearance has me locked down with pirates and principle pilots Dulled sick, they spy less, echo with insist, enlist and exist As terrorists and presidents Marked with malice making misfits that were mocked and disgraced, maced or laced by daydreams and magicians to assist beggars behind blueprints constructing islands Which make slaves in to riots that capture journalists under wide tense To suspend or impend doom sent hell bent by your priestess You conduct chaos with fast hints, but quit slow when engaged with your conscience Touched by divine tricks Decided and destined, best in business Prince of the wise man Captain of the compassionate Comrades with the crack heads singing anthems in kingdoms We are heartbreakers painting bad graffiti
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21
My parents would take me, on Sundays, at times, to visit their friends who lived in West Farms. Their five year old daughter and five year old me would play out in the porch while the old ones had tea. Ann Marie was an imaginative girl, and our playtime involved her imaginary world. Music was played on invisible strings and her "friend" Purple Lady" was invited to sing. I never did "see" her the Lavender Lass. But I'd pretend to greet her to make the time pass. Ann Marie would tell stories and include her "friend" in We were always a trio in her imagination. I'm the only survivor of those Sunday Soirees Half a century older and tending to gray. So imagine my shock when my sister described A girl who'd been murdered in that house in West Farms: It had happened some years before Mom's friends bought the place. A young girl, dressed in Purple Amethyst graced was killed by her father, who, divorced and disgraced, sought his ex wife's blood but killed their child in her place. Her Mom died then of grief of her dear girl Bereft , but I'm beginning to think that her child never left. It was always quite cold in that room where we played as children
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Nov 30, 2011
Nov 30, 2011 at 10:17 PM UTC
Amethyst
An immigrant from County Clare brought to this harsher clime- Phoebe Prince, an Irish lass, a gentle heart and mind. First used, and then discarded by one boy, then another.- Object of the mean girl’s scorn the consummate "outsider"   On her last day alive                                                                                                                                                         They hounded her from school. The girl they called the “Irish **** disgraced and played the fool. Her sister, Lauren, found her body hanging lifeless in the hall. Befriended by nobody Phoebe chose to end it all And on the day they held her wake Those monsters held their dance A debutante cotillion for a troop of soulless tramps. She’s buried here in County Clare because the Ocean's waves protect her from the harpies who drove her to her grave
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Jan 14, 2012
Jan 14, 2012 at 10:56 PM UTC
A Girl named Phoebe
A Wizard trapped her reflection. To be within the mirror forever, She had spurned him with rejection. Two keys to a mystery box hidden forever. A brave young Prince wanted to set her free, Solve that secret of the mystery box. So he began the search for the first key, To open the first of the two locks. He braved a dragon high on its' nest, But he did not find the key hidden there. He battled Ice Warriors with his best, They had no knowledge of the secret to share. Then he would save a Witch from a Demon Banshee, She told him all he had to do was ask for his reward. So the Prince was given the first key, He searches on, battling a Demon Hoarde. Years pass him by, until that Wizard he faced, The Prince was an old man, he still would fight. The battle was long, the Wizard was disgraced, Gaining that second key was a victory sight. The Prince travelled back to the mirror and mystery box, He was tired and very old, but he would set her free. So he took out both keys, and he opened the locks, A light surrounded him from the beautiful sight he could see. He is young again, he has his life given brand new, From out of the box, he took out a diamond heart. Now the girl starts before him with a heart that is true, The Prince lifted her up in his arms, for they shall never be apart.
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Jul 2, 2010
Jul 2, 2010 at 11:35 AM UTC
The Mystery Box
I've always wanted a man To make me a sandwich, To cry like a girl, To clean my house, To let me drive his truck, To listen to my ideas, To corroborate instead of dominate And make me feel his equal. I've always wanted a relationship To follow God's design. I'll never be inferior Even with a man at my side. I've never believed modern women Should 'be silent', 'Stay in their place'. I lied to myself for years, But religion should be disgraced. Yeah, Maybe I'm sensitive. I won't laugh at these jokes For the same reason I don't find *** trafficking, Domestic violence, Or the fact that it took years for women to vote in this country Funny. You can laugh your way to a lonely life.
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Aug 11, 2013
Aug 11, 2013 at 6:46 PM UTC
To a Lonely Man
I never understood How love could be a sin How I could be disgraced Just by holding your hand But a man with a woman Can beat and cut and curse And still the church will bless A union with this or worse No, I don't understand How our love could be a sin
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Jun 22, 2014
Jun 22, 2014 at 11:16 PM UTC
Sinful Love
I saw a glimpse of her the other night In a split second and she vanished Into the thin air Her movement was swift.. Just like the wind... And she was gone... I neither saw nor heard about her again Not after long when ... A little bue bird started to sing Juliet’s Secret love affair was revealed... hot stories!! Crude people clapped their hands, Rumours was fastly circulated , Juliet was exposed as Romeo’s lover, Secret meetings, messages exchanged, Between the two forbidden lovers.. Talk of the town, disgraced to her family... Devastated she couldn’t reach Romeo... A pang of disbelief... a slap on her own face Her hero escaped , deserted her.. He has betrayed her , called her unfaithful instead... Juliet a sinner... people shouting in the streets... Juliet’s heart sank... hopleless she was... Where is Romeo .. the hero of her heart? She fell to the ground... a sharp knife in her hand Should I die for love she asked?
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Apr 29, 2013
Apr 29, 2013 at 2:26 AM UTC
Juliet's Tragedy
Uh oh, I feel it It's coming again One more unwanted visit From my longtime friend There's no notice given As he barges right in And no length to his stay Don't know when it will end He takes over my space As if it's always been Just his place and not mine Who's the one paying rent? Feel my presence erased Put on hold and suspend Don't confront; Do not face Feel I can not defend Everyday forced to face Sadly, what could have been Feeling lost and disgraced I'm imprisoned again In this bottomless pit Where reality bends Won't give up; Will not quit Digging out with a pen Beg for mercy and pleas In these notes that I send Penned emotionally On my life it depends Don't just look; Need to see The real trouble I'm in My words quietly scream Fight alone I can't win Someone please just help me A spare hand you can lend Don't need much to be free Very little you'll spend But without it I'll bleed Boxer who can't contend I'm struck down in defeat Ref has counted to ten Not how it has to be Room is starting to spin Get me up on my feet Reset this bowling pin Knock me flat in the street   Won't sit still like a hen Punching bag that you beat Think I'm yours; That is when Rising up suddenly Spirit back on the mend You're the one looking weak Everything is pretend Cleaning house; Need to sweep From this filth I've been cleansed Helped in my time of need Thankfully by my friends Days ahead bright for me My life here want to spend But can't get too comfy He will strike; Don't know when Out my eye hole I peep Could return once again Promising not to leave Me and my longtime friend
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Apr 12, 2019
Apr 12, 2019 at 1:22 PM UTC
My longtime friend
Uh oh, I feel it It's coming again One more unwanted visit From my longtime friend There's no notice given As he barges right in And no length to his stay Don't know when it will end He takes over my space As if it's always been Just his place and not mine Who's the one paying rent? Feel my presence erased Put on hold and suspend Don't confront; Do not face Feel I can not defend Everyday forced to face Sadly, what could have been Feeling lost and disgraced I'm imprisoned again In this bottomless pit Where reality bends Won't give up; Will not quit Digging out with a pen Beg for mercy and pleas In these notes that I send Penned emotionally On my life it depends Don't just look; Need to see The real trouble I'm in My words quietly scream Fight alone I can't win Someone please just help me A spare hand you can lend Don't need much to be free Very little you'll spend But without it I'll bleed Boxer who can't contend I'm struck down in defeat Ref has counted to ten Not how it has to be Room is starting to spin Get me up on my feet Reset this bowling pin Knock me flat in the street   Won't sit still like a hen Punching bag that you beat Think I'm yours; That is when Rising up suddenly Spirit back on the mend You're the one looking weak Everything is pretend Cleaning house; Need to sweep From this filth I've been cleansed Helped in my time of need Thankfully by my friends Days ahead bright for me My life here want to spend But can't get too comfy He will strike; Don't know when Out my eye hole I peep Could return once again Promising not to leave Me and my longtime friend
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