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"dismantle" poems
I Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone, Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone, Silence the pianos and with muffled drum Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come. Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead, Put crêpe bows round the white necks of the public doves, Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves. He was my North, my South, my East and West, My working week and my Sunday rest, My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song; I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong. The stars are not wanted now: put out every one; Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun; Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood. For nothing now can ever come to any good. II O the valley in the summer where I and my John Beside the deep river would walk on and on While the flowers at our feet and the birds up above Argued so sweetly on reciprocal love, And I leaned on his shoulder; 'O Johnny, let's play': But he frowned like thunder and he went away. O that Friday near Christmas as I well recall When we went to the Charity Matinee Ball, The floor was so smooth and the band was so loud And Johnny so handsome I felt so proud; 'Squeeze me tighter, dear Johnny, let's dance till it's day': But he frowned like thunder and he went away. Shall I ever forget at the Grand Opera When music poured out of each wonderful star? Diamonds and pearls they hung dazzling down Over each silver and golden silk gown; 'O John I'm in heaven,' I whispered to say: But he frowned like thunder and he went away. O but he was fair as a garden in flower, As slender and tall as the great Eiffel Tower, When the waltz throbbed out on the long promenade O his eyes and his smile they went straight to my heart; 'O marry me, Johnny, I'll love and obey': But he frowned like thunder and he went away. O last night I dreamed of you, Johnny, my lover, You'd the sun on one arm and the moon on the other, The sea it was blue and the grass it was green, Every star rattled a round tambourine; Ten thousand miles deep in a pit there I lay: But you frowned like thunder and you went away.
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15.2k
Funeral Blues
I Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone, Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone, Silence the pianos and with muffled drum Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come. Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead, Put crêpe bows round the white necks of the public doves, Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves. He was my North, my South, my East and West, My working week and my Sunday rest, My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song; I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong. The stars are not wanted now: put out every one; Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun; Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood. For nothing now can ever come to any good. II O the valley in the summer where I and my John Beside the deep river would walk on and on While the flowers at our feet and the birds up above Argued so sweetly on reciprocal love, And I leaned on his shoulder; 'O Johnny, let's play': But he frowned like thunder and he went away. O that Friday near Christmas as I well recall When we went to the Charity Matinee Ball, The floor was so smooth and the band was so loud And Johnny so handsome I felt so proud; 'Squeeze me tighter, dear Johnny, let's dance till it's day': But he frowned like thunder and he went away. Shall I ever forget at the Grand Opera When music poured out of each wonderful star? Diamonds and pearls they hung dazzling down Over each silver and golden silk gown; 'O John I'm in heaven,' I whispered to say: But he frowned like thunder and he went away. O but he was fair as a garden in flower, As slender and tall as the great Eiffel Tower, When the waltz throbbed out on the long promenade O his eyes and his smile they went straight to my heart; 'O marry me, Johnny, I'll love and obey': But he frowned like thunder and he went away. O last night I dreamed of you, Johnny, my lover, You'd the sun on one arm and the moon on the other, The sea it was blue and the grass it was green, Every star rattled a round tambourine; Ten thousand miles deep in a pit there I lay: But you frowned like thunder and you went away.
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49
The apparition of these faces in the crowd; Faces without name, faces without purpose Faces that are just like my own. I watch the decrepit, old man Standing, waiting for a train to nowhere Wandering through the rest of his days Like every second Is his Last. The children playing there don’t know it yet. Soon they will -- their weary mothers do. Every day, growing older. Every day, growing colder. Every day, realizing our fate. The tracks are wet from the cold, Unfeeling rain. The rain, which pours from the Infinite sky, [Of which we will all soon belong] Floods the streets and earth [Of which we will all soon belong] The drops dismantle the delicate flowers surrounding us... Petals Drop To The Ground helpless. Our days dwindle as such. One day We will all be these Petals on a wet, black bough.
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Nov 11, 2012
Nov 11, 2012 at 3:02 AM UTC
Waiting in the Rain for a Train
Warning: Use dis list in context. You decide on which side you fall. disappear disregard disaster displace disqualify disrepair disturb dissipate disability dispose dismal distribute distrust disturb discriminate discuss disdain disguise dishearten disinherit disown disparage disagree disgruntle disclose discolour dispute disarm discover disassemble disadvantage disallow dispossess discontent discontinue disrespect disincline discomfort disrepute dishonest disillusion dishonor dismiss disobey disjoin disappoint discipline discord discern discrete disfigure disconnect disapprove discharge disbar disease discord disfavor disengage disassociate discipline discount disembody displace dissaray disembowel discombobulate discredit discourse disentangle disenfranchise disembark discard disburse disbelief discover disable disagree disintegrate dismay dispense dislodge disclaimer disapprove dissatisfy disrupt dispel dislike dismantle disloyal disbatch disrobe disperse display disaprove disciple disavow disconcert disinfect disorder dismal dismember displease dissemble disunity dislocate distort distrust distress dissolute disassociate distill discect (?) distemper distain distasteful distraught dissolve dissonant dissuade And dis isn't de end.
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Aug 22, 2015
Aug 22, 2015 at 12:06 PM UTC
Is Dis Good or Is Dis Bad (a partici-poem)
Anorexia is not collar bones. It is the smell rotting of flesh as you dismantle your body bit by bit. Anorexia is not a thigh gap, it is your knees so weak they shake as you fall to the ground. Anorexia is not self control. It is the feeling of utter hopelessness as your life tornados into a blizzard of nothingness. Anorexia is not fashionable. It is your mother’s sobbing eyes as she sees her child dying Anorexia is not 80 pounds. It is the weight of a thousand pulsing suns on your shoulders. A thick black cloud in your mind, and rules spelled out like chains pulling you towards the ground. No matter what measure of gravity that you have in this earth, it still hurts, it’s still real. So to you 'pro anas' who so blindly say 'hunger hurts, but starving works' think before you act. Suffering is an addiction, please do not harm yourself with this affliction. - Emily Ward
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Jun 12, 2014
Jun 12, 2014 at 8:59 AM UTC
Anorexia - For the so called 'pro anas'
I say music is my medicine, But sometimes I get addicted to this Adderall adrenaline, My mind has gone deeper than the abyss floor, The irony between good intentions and bad decisions, Get me out of this mental prison, I don't want to take orders from a politician, But if you take a minute to listen, You'll understand this vision that you're missing. I bleed ink from these veins like they root through my brain, A tree of perfect symmetry that I could never tame, Every branch a connection into a new frame, Everything is synchronizing like a symphony, An epiphany, finishing, She must be the bridge between my Ying and Yang, Negativity diminishing by positive energy Reflecting off the sensory, I stop and don't dismantle this handle of Jack Daniels, As if it has my questions answered, And as the sparrow sits upon the branch, Synapses snap in instants with a plan, Tracing a line that brings me to the sand, And the island, the silence, Sitting softly over the sea's sinus, Puts me in a content setting, grand, And when my body corrodes, If my soul is up for purchase, I'll remember the day when God and I had conversations in Churches.
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Oct 29, 2012
Oct 29, 2012 at 12:01 AM UTC
Beauty in Balance
I dismantle you little by little, pick you apart piece by piece as I edge you ever closer to the precipice. Your curiosity is titillated by the tantalizing nothings I whisper to draw you near, promises I never intend to keep. I tease as we creep, and you have no clue as to the depths of my nefarious intent until the moment I lay my hands on your chest and push. Your hands catch, grasp tightly. So I lean forward and gift you with one last kiss before I stare into your eyes as I peel them from the surface. Laughter pours forth as I witness your fall from high above. I turn and walk away, my deceit complete.
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Jul 25, 2014
Jul 25, 2014 at 4:48 PM UTC
Deceit
Stereotypes manifesting always, (Always) Trying to form themselves from something once seen, But not really believing in oneself, I see ignorance, I see arrogance, I see the lack of hunger, Observing such savage pride of life, I run from it all into a previous state, (Anonymity) I've reached the heights of total in-completion, I build walls of isolation upon myself, I am the collateral default of widespread degradation, I stand in the gap between teeth and consumption, I am the breed conceived by prey and predator, Widespread suspended animation: that is our future, We've tried to replicate the human makeup with mechanical frames, And the translation of electronic gates, Yet this is a folly, For staring at the mirrors of selected life in an artificial environment, Numbs our lives with emulation and self delusion, The days of nobility dismantle into fragments and sink to the bottom of the glass, Never to be turned over again, Scattered, Living among remnants of a life once lived with some sort of intensity, Now smoldered in a quite ferocity of anger beneath the surface, (Quiet tremors coming in flames) Because we don't live our dreams, We stand in the shadows of ruins, We are afraid of the future, We are afraid of the past, Where does that leave us? Leave me? I stand on the edge of The Void I'm holding myself hostage in the self sabotage entourage of the usual suspects, Our friends, our families, Disconnected with all intentions of coming together, Because they die in front of their screens, Not really living, Right? Light pollution massacre... We'll fall like stars
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Jul 5, 2013
Jul 5, 2013 at 11:58 PM UTC
The Dystopian Part VII: Urban Selection And The Eve Prototype
Stereotypes manifesting always, (Always) Trying to form themselves from something once seen, But not really believing in oneself, I see ignorance, I see arrogance, I see the lack of hunger, Observing such savage pride of life, I run from it all into a previous state, (Anonymity) I've reached the heights of total in-completion, I build walls of isolation upon myself, I am the collateral default of widespread degradation, I stand in the gap between teeth and consumption, I am the breed conceived by prey and predator, Widespread suspended animation: that is our future, We've tried to replicate the human makeup with mechanical frames, And the translation of electronic gates, Yet this is a folly, For staring at the mirrors of selected life in an artificial environment, Numbs our lives with emulation and self delusion, The days of nobility dismantle into fragments and sink to the bottom of the glass, Never to be turned over again, Scattered, Living among remnants of a life once lived with some sort of intensity, Now smoldered in a quite ferocity of anger beneath the surface, (Quiet tremors coming in flames) Because we don't live our dreams, We stand in the shadows of ruins, We are afraid of the future, We are afraid of the past, Where does that leave us? Leave me? I stand on the edge of The Void I'm holding myself hostage in the self sabotage entourage of the usual suspects, Our friends, our families, Disconnected with all intentions of coming together, Because they die in front of their screens, Not really living, Right? Light pollution massacre... We'll fall like stars
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42
She is that girl Who hates her reflection Cause she despise Her damaged pieces She is that girl Who loves with devotion And gladly dismantle Herself for you She is that girl Who waits for you To turn your heart and see That girl is me
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Apr 15, 2015
Apr 15, 2015 at 6:41 AM UTC
That Girl
Just as a boy grows into teenager, he is bound, to one day, grow into man. I think it's when he is just five years old, he becomes a demolition fan. At that juncture, it's all about the tools. To dismantle what works perfectly well. They may begin plastic at the start, but it triggers something in their cells. A teenager will start with something small, a lawnmower, dirt bike, then on to cars. Then as he ages and gains life experience, the quest for tools is written in the stars. It starts with a simple set of wrenches. Then moves on to socket sets and ratchet. Not just ASE, they need metric as well. A tool store is a veritable banquet. Metal worker, wood crafter, mechanic, Plumber a welder and electrician. Wrapped up in a testosterone package, needing a new tool for the next mission. Watch as his eye light, when reaching for a tool, that's new to the market, sitting on display. It's no longer about simple fun in an old cardboard box. It will be tools from now till his dying day.
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Nov 12, 2010
Nov 12, 2010 at 3:27 PM UTC
Simple Toys No More
I was used to the abuse, used to the towers I was used to being used, used to your power it makes me sad looking back, I was in the present accepting presents while you were hiding in the black, keeping secrets, turning your back on me and everything I offered, I thought you were better than you were guess it's my first mistake to think you wouldn’t put me up at the stake watch my ivory skin be engulfed in flames watch your baby burn away if it means that you can survive by the skin of your teeth tried to run and run with my tired feet tried to undo all you have done to me tried to keep the door open in case you came running back to me I like broken birds, I like empty words I like chess pieces, I like idealistic worlds you fit my trauma like a glove, manipulation to get my love but you had another, arguably better older, more secure, not a country over but in turn, you made me feel insecure a tragic mess continuing to dismantle unravel like ribbons, uncovered the truth due to visions I received, the seeds I reaped protection is given to me by deities I am not one for fighting but refuse to wave the white flag you shot me and now I must burn down your creations in a red flash every web of lies, web of secrets I set ablaze and sit back like the grim reaper
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Jan 13, 2022
Jan 13, 2022 at 11:49 AM UTC
Hindsight
skipping rocks and skipping meals magazines are teaching her to eat less, no matter how she feels models on instagram, tiktok, youtube, and twitter setting unrealistic expectations with their photoshop and glitter in size two jeans, hoping to squeeze into ones it looks like she's living the dream, but in reality, it's not a good one 1000 calories or less, isn't it nice? she's living in an eating disorder nightmare disguised as paradise she's losing weight, but not feeling as though she's won she doesn't want this anymore, when will this be done? she's dropping pounds, but feeling so shattered compliments left and right, but it's hard to feel flattered she's eating nothing at lunch until she's too light to function the cafeteria starts to feel like a dungeon feeling sick when she eats "too much" kneeling in the bathroom using the toilet as a crutch and then she overcompensates with exercise when will the people around her start to hear her cries? things are out of control, it's becoming too much for her to handle her world feels as though it's starting to dismantle her mental & physical health is deteriorating as she loses the weight when will they see what it's doing to her? hopefully before it's too late
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Sep 6, 2020
Sep 6, 2020 at 7:56 PM UTC
disguised as paradise
"She did the laundry in the mirror of me I saw myself in the mirror and disagreed with the smell, The thought of you was beautiful, but I was wrong, and a feeling of discontent -ment came over me," Misspellings Mispronunciations An unconquerable world of big money I parted ways with the large and saw another even larger world, One that was intelligent and reads the Wall Street Journal, listens to NPR, and says "wow" at the sound of hearing one million dollars, or upon hearing about San Francisco start-ups, or Silicon Valley. Or the opposite, in some ways, but still very similar to - Virginia Woolf. whose book on feminism which I'm unable to explain fully other than to say that she suggests that women only need a bedroom, money, clothes, etc., or rather, less than etc. in that, they need little, but only the bare supplies. That they should be able to supply themselves with what they need for when their husband, which, you know, is not required, in her eyes, for when he separates from her and leaves her 'in the dust,' alone without anything, perhaps only with a child, or in another instance, estate-less, with only a white dress, really more of kitchen-robe than anything else; like Virginia Woolf says, we should really try and dismantle the patriarchy that we write and tell about. Reader, what do you after reading a story, article, or book on radical or moderate feminism say? The boys, like me, who will tell, or, try to tell their perspective of the book and say to the closest person around them, "I just read a great book by Virginia Woolf, she brings to mind an image of a university with white buildings and ends of roofs of university buildings leading along to the the main hall of architecture buildings, with sidewalks pristine and underneath people walking in their sweaters, collegiate, and later to make their way to art history classes in the fall evening. So, like Virginia Woolf, who makes you ask why you're not at the Parthenon, but instead are inside of your house, in a city that you don't want to be in, at a hospital, in your apartment, or surrounded by whoever, she nevertheless gives you have a feeling of longing-ness and a strong emotion of want. Virginia Woolf when will we go to Greece together? What do you know about Athens and classical architecture, I nearly beg you. December 30th 2018 7:11am
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Dec 31, 2018
Dec 31, 2018 at 9:51 PM UTC
Virginia Woolf
"She did the laundry in the mirror of me I saw myself in the mirror and disagreed with the smell, The thought of you was beautiful, but I was wrong, and a feeling of discontent -ment came over me," Misspellings Mispronunciations An unconquerable world of big money I parted ways with the large and saw another even larger world, One that was intelligent and reads the Wall Street Journal, listens to NPR, and says "wow" at the sound of hearing one million dollars, or upon hearing about San Francisco start-ups, or Silicon Valley. Or the opposite, in some ways, but still very similar to - Virginia Woolf. whose book on feminism which I'm unable to explain fully other than to say that she suggests that women only need a bedroom, money, clothes, etc., or rather, less than etc. in that, they need little, but only the bare supplies. That they should be able to supply themselves with what they need for when their husband, which, you know, is not required, in her eyes, for when he separates from her and leaves her 'in the dust,' alone without anything, perhaps only with a child, or in another instance, estate-less, with only a white dress, really more of kitchen-robe than anything else; like Virginia Woolf says, we should really try and dismantle the patriarchy that we write and tell about. Reader, what do you after reading a story, article, or book on radical or moderate feminism say? The boys, like me, who will tell, or, try to tell their perspective of the book and say to the closest person around them, "I just read a great book by Virginia Woolf, she brings to mind an image of a university with white buildings and ends of roofs of university buildings leading along to the the main hall of architecture buildings, with sidewalks pristine and underneath people walking in their sweaters, collegiate, and later to make their way to art history classes in the fall evening. So, like Virginia Woolf, who makes you ask why you're not at the Parthenon, but instead are inside of your house, in a city that you don't want to be in, at a hospital, in your apartment, or surrounded by whoever, she nevertheless gives you have a feeling of longing-ness and a strong emotion of want. Virginia Woolf when will we go to Greece together? What do you know about Athens and classical architecture, I nearly beg you. December 30th 2018 7:11am
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41
She lives in a cage, in the shed, at the bottom of a garden Her master comes, twice daily, with food and water She lives for him, a servant to his psyche She has no power, slave on her knees in chains Its simple pleasure for leisure, to serve him is to be free Minutes in the sunshine, phallus in furs - and a collar as a symbol of respect Music for ******* Performance in the house She lays down and tastes the whip on bare cheek Obedience is taught through willing submission Gorean affectations, willing desire and the natural order One's journey into identity, a thrilling concept at first munch - God will speak in good time To dismantle social construct in a kingdom of one Liberation at the hands of a master in leather - and whips outstretched Through drear smokescreens, transformation and feminisation Slave-girl, man-child, longing for acceptance and protection Early morn, teary-eyed sunshine creeps through a crack Blonde wigged, bearded man wipes mascara clean away Only two more months, every day she will be beat, - and the sissification of the master's slave will then be complete
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Sep 22, 2013
Sep 22, 2013 at 3:13 PM UTC
Malcolm's Story Part II: Regarding Pinafore Eroticism
Submission upwards towards the void of eternal blessings in disguise The angel behind the leather mask Just wants us to feel out the sacred nature of our transgressions Just vibrations stuttering along to a heartbeat Liberation lashes Tearing a hole in the sky Teasing out the idea of turning you on You were already lit up Reflecting the Sun Igniting fire to my ***** Illumination everything switch You came in the dark and left marks Bruising my ego to dismantle itself Dreams manifested You held me down like sleep paralysis Demanding my soul to sacrifice itself to the Moon Watching with pleasure You were the shadows in my room Dancing the divine candlelight A cuckold of my imagination as I took it lying down This is worship This is tribute 3 cheers 3 chants 3 times Go down Descend on me Goddess archetype
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May 19, 2013
May 19, 2013 at 12:10 AM UTC
The Maiden, Her ********* Machinery
Borrowed words: all to describe Stolen moments, rented time. Diction that I now transcribe. A story that's not wholly mine. In my bed I sleep; I dream. Surrounded by walls that seem Adequate to serve my needs. But these walls weren't built for me. The walls have ears--the ceiling, eyes. Speak through our tongues--our own demise. Nowhere is there now to hide, For I (and you) am a loyal spy. Woven into fabric rendered To fulfill some view of splendor. But no one here can remember Why we stitch torn cloth together. Too short, too tall, too weak to handle; Must reinforce to insure it's ample. But how can I shatter what is fragile If I am what I wish to dismantle?
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Mar 11, 2016
Mar 11, 2016 at 3:59 PM UTC
Socially Constructed
The aftermath of betrayal Those upon a corrupted throne shall witness my reign of anger Though not stereotypical My wrath with come a little bit stranger Fury with grasp my fingers and lips And I will dismantle their establishment using cunning as speartips
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Dec 28, 2012
Dec 28, 2012 at 8:55 AM UTC
Vengeance
Lamenting lost love hidden behind harmonies, (synonymous to symphony) resonates absently. Like making love to a stranger. Like you make love to me. Void of all passion, like revenge of apathy. Apathetic entirely, the emptiness that fuels you emphasizes decrees. Standard-less standards validate your need to dismantle the mantled, and devour the diseased, to command and to seize, to exploit the exploited, and explore every scene— every pelvis, and every scream. How did I fall for such a— loveless being? Better yet, How do I disintegrate re-memories, Or abolish aplitic fallacies, and survive soullessly? (How must I do these things!?) Here I plead surrounded, unattentively, summoning recognition for the being whom resides in me. Resurrecting old wounds, (chore almost seems daily) almost seems like it’s alive, like maybe one day it might save me. More likely, one day it will concave me.   But without knowledge there is no upset. And no upset means no you and me.
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Mar 9, 2012
Mar 9, 2012 at 9:03 PM UTC
Riddler's Revenge
In the office The vent is hissing and spitting I'm bored out of my ******* mind I wore a mesh shirt to school You can see my stomach But my legs ******* arms etc are covered really the only offense is my belly button I refuse to cover up my natural normal body parts Its not right Or fair its completely unreasonable But the administration needs something to stroke its ego ***** right? But I refuse to give hand jobs To a completely corrupt education system
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Oct 4, 2013
Oct 4, 2013 at 8:38 AM UTC
Dismantle The Patriarchy
This branch, this life, the tongue to taste the bitter of the pinecones. Best to request permission for my heart to skip a beat, dare me in February from here to west. Woodstove fire - ash and flying ambers - dries the musty grain of cedar essence. Dancing smoked perfume is rising Slowly - an inverted lava river. Its sharp soft teeth the alphabet dismantle back-taking life to its primordial matter as history became the final institution. Why did the idol have to burn, its thorns devoured, Knotty eyes of wood in mind imprinted - starry firmament on my sub-conscious?
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Apr 28, 2013
Apr 28, 2013 at 11:03 AM UTC
Cabin Fever
I dismantle you little by little, pick you apart piece by piece as I edge you ever closer to the precipice. Your curiosity is titillated by the tantalizing nothings I whisper to draw you near, promises I never intend to keep. I tease as we creep, and you have no clue as to the depths of my nefarious intent until the moment I lay my hands on your chest and push. Your hands catch, grasp tightly. So I lean forward and gift you with one last kiss before I stare into your eyes as I peel them from the surface. Laughter pours forth as I witness your fall from high above. I turn and walk away, my deceit complete.
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Jul 27, 2014
Jul 27, 2014 at 1:25 PM UTC
Elevate
A man's ego is a thick wall Covering his vulnerable soul, Protects him from shivering From the outside cold. It is his coach, and his captain As well as his life's good coach, Protecting the his exteriors From his fragility he never boasts. As soft as the clouds wandering Through the dust of the city life, Same as the careful veins Embedded in a womans' soft heart. Snugged in his vicious tongue With every word in his gauntlet Warming his soul away From any dark and cold blankets. Like diamonds you try to dismantle And see him break at once, As he snaps to put the pieces back But the cracks can't be undone.
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Mar 13, 2016
Mar 13, 2016 at 10:53 AM UTC
A Man's Ego
# You are in there,  I am certain of it-- Behind the gear's finely-honed, precision fit  gear.. in to gear in to gear into gear.. And I wonder..  do you want out? The machine  on the outside, self-repairs Any attempt towards dismantle  from the external,  is futile.. But the internal,  beautiful girl.. "I don't know what you mean, about 'machine'" She is apprehensive, those beautiful brown eyes,  looking up at me.. "Look down, sweet girl" Her thighs, fully parted,  as I slide in to her.. those amazing hips, moving so perfectly with mine,  extracting.. Milking from me, my warm  pulsing ***** a deeply-penetrating lubricant,  pulsed deeply into the machine As if to lubricate its gears.. As if.. But penetrating so deeply, as to now permeate the insides  of the mechanization's innerworkings-- turning from lubricant, to that of a corrosive nature.. Fully coating now, the inner you.. as it turns back now, into that of a healing balm Bringing to you  a moment of Light     and internal clarity--   long enough for you to see     That the machine  is made vulnerable     by the ever-changing qualities  of     Love that found its way through     As the awakened parts within you, for the     first time.. understand the machine's love-blocking,  nature And you begin to choose, mid-orgasm the machine's dismantle,  from the inside-- *'Little by little.. Line, upon line.. Block, upon block.. Precept, upon precept..'* Until we have the chance,  once again.. to do it all again #
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Aug 15, 2021
Aug 15, 2021 at 11:38 AM UTC
mechanization song
# You are in there,  I am certain of it-- Behind the gear's finely-honed, precision fit  gear.. in to gear in to gear into gear.. And I wonder..  do you want out? The machine  on the outside, self-repairs Any attempt towards dismantle  from the external,  is futile.. But the internal,  beautiful girl.. "I don't know what you mean, about 'machine'" She is apprehensive, those beautiful brown eyes,  looking up at me.. "Look down, sweet girl" Her thighs, fully parted,  as I slide in to her.. those amazing hips, moving so perfectly with mine,  extracting.. Milking from me, my warm  pulsing ***** a deeply-penetrating lubricant,  pulsed deeply into the machine As if to lubricate its gears.. As if.. But penetrating so deeply, as to now permeate the insides  of the mechanization's innerworkings-- turning from lubricant, to that of a corrosive nature.. Fully coating now, the inner you.. as it turns back now, into that of a healing balm Bringing to you  a moment of Light     and internal clarity--   long enough for you to see     That the machine  is made vulnerable     by the ever-changing qualities  of     Love that found its way through     As the awakened parts within you, for the     first time.. understand the machine's love-blocking,  nature And you begin to choose, mid-orgasm the machine's dismantle,  from the inside-- *'Little by little.. Line, upon line.. Block, upon block.. Precept, upon precept..'* Until we have the chance,  once again.. to do it all again #
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50
In India, we need feminism Because, it stands for equality Before you start losing your calm Please allow me to clarify Feminism means not, women dominating men It means equal rights for both men and women And of course, women empowerment Now, let me be blunt India is not and has never been a great place for women Our society enables male ********** In almost every sphere of life Which ends up creating a lot of strife It is time to change all of that Hence, is feminism so important Because, women need to find their voice And for that, they must have a choice To do what they desire Without invoking the society's ire So, it is time to dismantle our Brahminical patriarchy Only then, can we really reform our society Because, gender and caste go hand-in-hand We cannot destroy gender inequality with a magic wand It is necessary to strike at its very root Which, essentially, is caste For instance, why do so many rapes happen? Because, they enable upper caste male ********** ****** harassment and **** reinforce the caste structure Thus, does the Manusmriti continue to influence gender And proactively hinder women empowerment Again, this is why feminism is so important But it also needs to be intersectional And include women at all levels Of our wretched caste hierarchy In order to achieve gender equality It is necessary for Brahmin and Savarna women to take a pause And allow Bahujan women to make uniformed choices for themselves Instead of dictating terms to them all the time Also, men need to be part of feminism After all, inclusiveness is the very core of feminism It transcends gender, *** race, religion and caste Was not Babasaheb Dr. B.R. Ambedkar one of India's greatest feminists? It is thanks to this beautiful soul That, at least in theory, are men and women equal As far as our country is concerned Therefore, feminism is something we greatly need But it can be successful only when it includes everyone Thus, in order to make India a much safer place for women Everybody must adopt feminism Because, it is equivalent to humanism! Jai Bhim!!
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Oct 14, 2024
Oct 14, 2024 at 12:18 AM UTC
The Importance Of Feminism in India
In India, we need feminism Because, it stands for equality Before you start losing your calm Please allow me to clarify Feminism means not, women dominating men It means equal rights for both men and women And of course, women empowerment Now, let me be blunt India is not and has never been a great place for women Our society enables male ********** In almost every sphere of life Which ends up creating a lot of strife It is time to change all of that Hence, is feminism so important Because, women need to find their voice And for that, they must have a choice To do what they desire Without invoking the society's ire So, it is time to dismantle our Brahminical patriarchy Only then, can we really reform our society Because, gender and caste go hand-in-hand We cannot destroy gender inequality with a magic wand It is necessary to strike at its very root Which, essentially, is caste For instance, why do so many rapes happen? Because, they enable upper caste male ********** ****** harassment and **** reinforce the caste structure Thus, does the Manusmriti continue to influence gender And proactively hinder women empowerment Again, this is why feminism is so important But it also needs to be intersectional And include women at all levels Of our wretched caste hierarchy In order to achieve gender equality It is necessary for Brahmin and Savarna women to take a pause And allow Bahujan women to make uniformed choices for themselves Instead of dictating terms to them all the time Also, men need to be part of feminism After all, inclusiveness is the very core of feminism It transcends gender, *** race, religion and caste Was not Babasaheb Dr. B.R. Ambedkar one of India's greatest feminists? It is thanks to this beautiful soul That, at least in theory, are men and women equal As far as our country is concerned Therefore, feminism is something we greatly need But it can be successful only when it includes everyone Thus, in order to make India a much safer place for women Everybody must adopt feminism Because, it is equivalent to humanism! Jai Bhim!!
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***** hands
 With rust and dirt;
 Hard work 
Is my child play
 With nuts,
 Screws and bolts;
 Toiled fingers
 They dismantle
 They repair.
0
Jan 17, 2015
Jan 17, 2015 at 12:17 AM UTC
***** Hands
Talking to my GoPro as if it were you Current truths Diminish the whirling blues inside my head where you don’t have a clue out the zoo with my emotions In the beginning eased it with some sleep Because I couldn’t see the reasons for my grief Out the shadows and the light is brief What to think? What to know? The tension is rigorous Kept inside a pin Let it sit and sizzle until it’s smoke Open the vents, and let it go To seize a chance for peace Dismantle the layers of myself Find you in a strip A memory I’ll always love My love just don’t lose grip But to love is to see you free A peak I couldn’t see Relief indeed Let it bleed Let it bleed Let it bleed Consume the dooms Swallow the distrust The other side of the moon The ending will come soon Sitting in my room About to make some chicken....
0
Jan 28, 2019
Jan 28, 2019 at 11:10 PM UTC
before dinner (patience)