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"disparage" poems
748 Autumn—overlooked my Knitting— Dyes—said He—have I— Could disparage a Flamingo— Show Me them—said I— Cochineal—I chose—for deeming It resemble Thee— And the little Border—Dusker— For resembling Me—
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Autumn—overlooked my Knitting
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)
Alexander K Opicho (Eldoret, Kenya;[email protected]) But I remain a believer in my ancestral religion Whose God is wele but not the Germany world, it is a religion, Like most of universal ancestral ones, With appalling moral threshold, When Elijah Masinde of dini ya Misambwa Despised those who condemned man as notoriously religious He meant human religious approach to life is absolute in nature However diverse religions compete for human ears Rich ones glorified in the luring away of modal ears But all are devoid of spiritual impetus Disappointing the progenitors of religious imperialism These short-cutters in matters of sanctimony Will not come to our heaven They will get me sharing a cup of tea With my sister- in-law; Mary, the mother of Jesus And I will shun them, I will not know them I will not invite them to a heavenly cup of tea They will be suffocated by cadaverous appetite, For we honor our religion with ancestral regard; The Faith of Our Ancestors But in ridicule they call us kaffirs, pagans, christo-pagans, Animists, atheists, gentiles, non-believers, mediumists, Rebellious rebels or whatsoever they call us; The anti-muhamedan-mis-christologists, Let them delude themselves, If they disparage us with sick contumely Abreast the dumbfounding development in sciences Plus so fortuitous humanistic awareness, Humanity in Religion has to adjust optimally Religious masters have to help Interpret the religious Books, bible, gita, quran All Written or verbalistically in the glory of epical orality In tandem with the best centered Life extant, Otherwise selfish religions becomes an old wine bag With its old and stale wine, You will persuade Russian carousers to drink But to your chagrin, none will condone, your stale wine Do not seek to sell your faith Because every human community Has an ancestral faith Respect them all for that is gods in their accolade of Omonipresecence, Any man or woman without religion is dangerous But do not advantagize yourselves At the expense of people of other faiths It is good you reciprocated Planet earth is our only sure and known abode If we lived well here, and there is another world For those who will be good, we hope the conclave of Gods Would all sit in judgment for their credit And reward those who helped humble humanity Of their religions as well as those of other religions As for all the Gods love humanists.
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Dec 17, 2013
Dec 17, 2013 at 10:17 AM UTC
Echoing Taban Makitiyong Reneket Lo Liyong
Alexander K Opicho (Eldoret, Kenya;[email protected]) But I remain a believer in my ancestral religion Whose God is wele but not the Germany world, it is a religion, Like most of universal ancestral ones, With appalling moral threshold, When Elijah Masinde of dini ya Misambwa Despised those who condemned man as notoriously religious He meant human religious approach to life is absolute in nature However diverse religions compete for human ears Rich ones glorified in the luring away of modal ears But all are devoid of spiritual impetus Disappointing the progenitors of religious imperialism These short-cutters in matters of sanctimony Will not come to our heaven They will get me sharing a cup of tea With my sister- in-law; Mary, the mother of Jesus And I will shun them, I will not know them I will not invite them to a heavenly cup of tea They will be suffocated by cadaverous appetite, For we honor our religion with ancestral regard; The Faith of Our Ancestors But in ridicule they call us kaffirs, pagans, christo-pagans, Animists, atheists, gentiles, non-believers, mediumists, Rebellious rebels or whatsoever they call us; The anti-muhamedan-mis-christologists, Let them delude themselves, If they disparage us with sick contumely Abreast the dumbfounding development in sciences Plus so fortuitous humanistic awareness, Humanity in Religion has to adjust optimally Religious masters have to help Interpret the religious Books, bible, gita, quran All Written or verbalistically in the glory of epical orality In tandem with the best centered Life extant, Otherwise selfish religions becomes an old wine bag With its old and stale wine, You will persuade Russian carousers to drink But to your chagrin, none will condone, your stale wine Do not seek to sell your faith Because every human community Has an ancestral faith Respect them all for that is gods in their accolade of Omonipresecence, Any man or woman without religion is dangerous But do not advantagize yourselves At the expense of people of other faiths It is good you reciprocated Planet earth is our only sure and known abode If we lived well here, and there is another world For those who will be good, we hope the conclave of Gods Would all sit in judgment for their credit And reward those who helped humble humanity Of their religions as well as those of other religions As for all the Gods love humanists.
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With red and blue side by side Who’s to decide my secret ballot With respect and disparage likely never to divide Choose or die I feel like pratchett Natures evil so grossly present With my eyes blinded by political fluorescents Alone in a box, with an unchecked sheet Now I understand... were all obsolete
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Oct 10, 2012
Oct 10, 2012 at 11:44 PM UTC
Political Refugee
1611 Their dappled importunity Disparage or dismiss— The Obloquies of Etiquette Are obsolete to Bliss—
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Their dappled importunity
Accept my pity, ye tormented souls unable to raise and dazzle all I did was earn my keep and walked in sunshine from the soul but When men are full of envy they disparage everything, whether it be good or bad. Now I know some minds never grow and thrive only in envy For Envy, like the worm, never runs but to the fairest fruit; like a cunning bloodhound, it singles out the fattest deer in the flock. These wretched starved toxic souls, only see a man with plenty The flower which is single need not envy the thorns that are numerous. I did not countenance that faces are pale because they lacked just thought that was the Creator's work on days when brown and yellow, swarty, ivory and tan paints ran out I knew a lot hated this insipid opaque pale colouring, but at least they have beautiful hair and lucky ones have pearly white teeth but unbeknown to me, real envy resides in them and blinds them and makes it impossible for them to think clearly. Oh dearie me, our pale brothers and sisters die inside their souls And age so quickly, radiant in bloom one day, grey and wrinkled in the morrow like a wilted rose devoid of water and light Their pain and envy, their self-loathing, their insecurities ravages Let age, not envy, draw wrinkles on thy cheeks, dear friends. For you see, God's truth judges created things out of love, and Satan's truth judges them out of envy and hatred. Our envy always lasts longer than the happiness of those we envy. If malice or envy were tangible and had a shape, it would be the shape of a boomerang. I fear not and now understand why you envy and hate me I can appreciate the bile and venom for Fools may our scorn, not envy, raise. For envy is a kind of praise. Worth begets in base minds, envy; in great souls, emulation. When people envy someone else, they want what that person possesses. As time passes, they develop hostile feelings towards that person, and eventually begin to hate that person because of their possessions and the unrequited desire to obtain those possessions.
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Feb 28, 2019
Feb 28, 2019 at 8:53 PM UTC
Green Eyes.........
Accept my pity, ye tormented souls unable to raise and dazzle all I did was earn my keep and walked in sunshine from the soul but When men are full of envy they disparage everything, whether it be good or bad. Now I know some minds never grow and thrive only in envy For Envy, like the worm, never runs but to the fairest fruit; like a cunning bloodhound, it singles out the fattest deer in the flock. These wretched starved toxic souls, only see a man with plenty The flower which is single need not envy the thorns that are numerous. I did not countenance that faces are pale because they lacked just thought that was the Creator's work on days when brown and yellow, swarty, ivory and tan paints ran out I knew a lot hated this insipid opaque pale colouring, but at least they have beautiful hair and lucky ones have pearly white teeth but unbeknown to me, real envy resides in them and blinds them and makes it impossible for them to think clearly. Oh dearie me, our pale brothers and sisters die inside their souls And age so quickly, radiant in bloom one day, grey and wrinkled in the morrow like a wilted rose devoid of water and light Their pain and envy, their self-loathing, their insecurities ravages Let age, not envy, draw wrinkles on thy cheeks, dear friends. For you see, God's truth judges created things out of love, and Satan's truth judges them out of envy and hatred. Our envy always lasts longer than the happiness of those we envy. If malice or envy were tangible and had a shape, it would be the shape of a boomerang. I fear not and now understand why you envy and hate me I can appreciate the bile and venom for Fools may our scorn, not envy, raise. For envy is a kind of praise. Worth begets in base minds, envy; in great souls, emulation. When people envy someone else, they want what that person possesses. As time passes, they develop hostile feelings towards that person, and eventually begin to hate that person because of their possessions and the unrequited desire to obtain those possessions.
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Autistically speaking I applaud your intelligence! flap flap clap clap when you don't think before you think flap flap clap clap or open your ******* ******* mouth! and disparage and belittle those with a learning disability. But then maybe It's you who is disabled as you don't seem able to distinguish between what is right and wrong what is cruel and kind flap flap clap clap in your ignorance you are blind and your intellectual mind is a snob of the worse kind Looking down from your high brow because you are so clever I forget Let's all applaud and you can remark (Out of context of course) that they're all ******* retards flap flap clap clap Well aren't you hard! You bully when you say the dimwits and the morons, unloveable, undateable, unwanted, a drain of society they should all be put down. Not somebody you would choose to be friends with or if you did it would be so you take advantage of an idiots good nature and pure heart! flap flap clap clap Or so you could look good in comparison to them and maybe it would knock your own IQ up a number or two! Your average ****** could teach you a thing about numbers if you asked them And you wouldn't want your own kids playing with them incase they catch it.... Catch what?.... the ability to be awesome to think outside the box to see feel and understand and experience the world and people in a completely unheard of way. To smell colours and taste words, and your inability to deviate from anything other than your narrow little mind really is absurd! So let's all clap and flap flap flap flap flap and maybe shriek a bit too! They are the true freethinkers the true misfits the pure and the truly blessed They are the ones the people who are "different" "Individual" as you would like to be flap flap clap clap You ignorant **** Autistically speaking Who's the ****** now? ©Jacqui Slade
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Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 3:32 PM UTC
******
Autistically speaking I applaud your intelligence! flap flap clap clap when you don't think before you think flap flap clap clap or open your ******* ******* mouth! and disparage and belittle those with a learning disability. But then maybe It's you who is disabled as you don't seem able to distinguish between what is right and wrong what is cruel and kind flap flap clap clap in your ignorance you are blind and your intellectual mind is a snob of the worse kind Looking down from your high brow because you are so clever I forget Let's all applaud and you can remark (Out of context of course) that they're all ******* retards flap flap clap clap Well aren't you hard! You bully when you say the dimwits and the morons, unloveable, undateable, unwanted, a drain of society they should all be put down. Not somebody you would choose to be friends with or if you did it would be so you take advantage of an idiots good nature and pure heart! flap flap clap clap Or so you could look good in comparison to them and maybe it would knock your own IQ up a number or two! Your average ****** could teach you a thing about numbers if you asked them And you wouldn't want your own kids playing with them incase they catch it.... Catch what?.... the ability to be awesome to think outside the box to see feel and understand and experience the world and people in a completely unheard of way. To smell colours and taste words, and your inability to deviate from anything other than your narrow little mind really is absurd! So let's all clap and flap flap flap flap flap and maybe shriek a bit too! They are the true freethinkers the true misfits the pure and the truly blessed They are the ones the people who are "different" "Individual" as you would like to be flap flap clap clap You ignorant **** Autistically speaking Who's the ****** now? ©Jacqui Slade
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131
If you could see the inside of a person they would look rather congealed and drippy but..... metaphorically much different than who they are on the outside. You know, the skin part throws us all off to inner beauty and their desires and needs and vulnerabilities. However, personally.... I'll take the heads with teeth in their mouths and skin on their faces. Hopefully they have enough brains in their skulls (and not falling all over the ground) to spill their own guts over a drink (several, if they insist) without me having to see them instead. Fairly certain the epic distraction of their viscera would sincerely disparage what they were attempting to convey anyhow.
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Jul 16, 2015
Jul 16, 2015 at 1:34 AM UTC
Skin Deep
When you discover the world around you You also discover all within it Selfishness, Greed, Hatred, Infidelity, Abuse, Sickness, Waste, Homelessness, and War We bare witness to all these things But selfishly ignore them, In route to prospect of all these evil forces that misguides us For better or worse It scopes our daily lives with inconvient truth's The mental or physical rightousness That lies in the truth of disparage History of our actions will go noted In the days and years that come about as such You can not tell life what to do You must surrender it all into the hands of God That he protects you from the shame, one must feel deep inside Waivers us from all our faults and sin alike Trust in the inner voice that speaks to you and believe For God's truth is yours if you want it Set your intentions to heal thyself and other's Peace be still in you, with love for your sister and your brother Or let your misguided judgement, and false preservations follow you into your own judgement to...Hell! (upwc) by: Zenobia Lee/LadyZ710 12/13/09
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Dec 17, 2009
Dec 17, 2009 at 7:10 AM UTC
For Better Or Worse
***“Who will judge, as many trudge through mud, mucking up the rug, a coating of clay formed by God on a particular day. Yet talent is ingrained, whether sane or insane, and verse is treasure or a curse, unrehearsed, dispersed for all to see, will they applaud or disparage, this marriage of mind and rhyme, by design aligned, a sign of the times...”*** ms. patty m ~~~ once again a thunderbolt command hits between the eyes, on-right the precise spot where the head aches with desire to fulfill the write! but to what can I add to this encompassing question already better answered by the questioner? who will judge indeed! all the time and far too often, the flotsam rises to the surface, when better left ignored, while the jetsam jets nowhere, buried deep though breathing yet, on unseen sea bottom of ignorance, luck of the draw by one who designs, who aligns, a capricious starscape in the firmament as well as the infirmity & ignominy of caskets lying quiet in sea trenches that the answer herein contained, a supposition, a poor poets speculation, a soul’s lactation, the very question is a cyclone bomb by competents who are blinded+bound+blessed by incomprehension the only judge and jury is your forefingers tip, if it tremble a-slight when caressing the key called send, your cellular fiber has adjudged worthy, and no dare disagree talent and distinction randomly and irrationally distributed, but the courageous caress of a send key pressed, is all that is needed to impress the only judge and jury that authorized you in advance to love yourself insanely well enough to write and to send for a request for sentencing
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Mar 14, 2019
Mar 14, 2019 at 11:31 AM UTC
Who will judge?
***“Who will judge, as many trudge through mud, mucking up the rug, a coating of clay formed by God on a particular day. Yet talent is ingrained, whether sane or insane, and verse is treasure or a curse, unrehearsed, dispersed for all to see, will they applaud or disparage, this marriage of mind and rhyme, by design aligned, a sign of the times...”*** ms. patty m ~~~ once again a thunderbolt command hits between the eyes, on-right the precise spot where the head aches with desire to fulfill the write! but to what can I add to this encompassing question already better answered by the questioner? who will judge indeed! all the time and far too often, the flotsam rises to the surface, when better left ignored, while the jetsam jets nowhere, buried deep though breathing yet, on unseen sea bottom of ignorance, luck of the draw by one who designs, who aligns, a capricious starscape in the firmament as well as the infirmity & ignominy of caskets lying quiet in sea trenches that the answer herein contained, a supposition, a poor poets speculation, a soul’s lactation, the very question is a cyclone bomb by competents who are blinded+bound+blessed by incomprehension the only judge and jury is your forefingers tip, if it tremble a-slight when caressing the key called send, your cellular fiber has adjudged worthy, and no dare disagree talent and distinction randomly and irrationally distributed, but the courageous caress of a send key pressed, is all that is needed to impress the only judge and jury that authorized you in advance to love yourself insanely well enough to write and to send for a request for sentencing
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How To Dress For My Funeral black or white, hot n'pink, lavender always a fav, at a fun funeral rave, lacy or plain, your choice, tho clean would be nice, won't matter to me very much, the color of your underwear. but do not fail to recall, the dead, their vision keen, can see all! funeral gravity rules to be strictly observed, snickering and giggling to commence in the back row, when holy pomposity gets uttered, let it wend its way forward from the aft, until y'all better be laughing your ***** off anyone who chooses to speak, must commence with words, "Did ya hear the one about" or be haunted by my spectral shadow tickling both feet at midnight, or, worse yet, reciting this awful poem in their head, like Henry the Eighth, I am, I am perhaps a hora dance might be nice, a mamba line, butts,  holy rolling n'shaking, past rows of rock n' rolling tombstones, guitar-playing some Metallica, while the rabbi intones somberly, Let's get this party started, gad ****** if my untimely hour should arrive in July, I humbly request that flip flops be the ped-modality, if January should be my season of absence treasoned, use some reason, please stay home, and let the paid professionals suffer in fine phony, professional, seasonal frigidity at the post partum party, should that occur, I humbly repast request, barbecue be the cuisine, in the hopes you all recall to place a generous helping, repeat, generous helping, inside my sauce- proof pine wood casket, with extra napkins for the long trip ahead now these are all post hypnotic, post breathing, helpful suggestions, not requirements, but honor or disparage, cry or vent, curse or bless my perma-absence, don't matter to me, as long as somebody reads this manifesto at the festivities, first and last.
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Jun 3, 2013
Jun 3, 2013 at 11:44 PM UTC
How To Dress For My Funeral
How To Dress For My Funeral black or white, hot n'pink, lavender always a fav, at a fun funeral rave, lacy or plain, your choice, tho clean would be nice, won't matter to me very much, the color of your underwear. but do not fail to recall, the dead, their vision keen, can see all! funeral gravity rules to be strictly observed, snickering and giggling to commence in the back row, when holy pomposity gets uttered, let it wend its way forward from the aft, until y'all better be laughing your ***** off anyone who chooses to speak, must commence with words, "Did ya hear the one about" or be haunted by my spectral shadow tickling both feet at midnight, or, worse yet, reciting this awful poem in their head, like Henry the Eighth, I am, I am perhaps a hora dance might be nice, a mamba line, butts,  holy rolling n'shaking, past rows of rock n' rolling tombstones, guitar-playing some Metallica, while the rabbi intones somberly, Let's get this party started, gad ****** if my untimely hour should arrive in July, I humbly request that flip flops be the ped-modality, if January should be my season of absence treasoned, use some reason, please stay home, and let the paid professionals suffer in fine phony, professional, seasonal frigidity at the post partum party, should that occur, I humbly repast request, barbecue be the cuisine, in the hopes you all recall to place a generous helping, repeat, generous helping, inside my sauce- proof pine wood casket, with extra napkins for the long trip ahead now these are all post hypnotic, post breathing, helpful suggestions, not requirements, but honor or disparage, cry or vent, curse or bless my perma-absence, don't matter to me, as long as somebody reads this manifesto at the festivities, first and last.
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48
it was an inevitability that we'd unearth the evidence to validate Einstein's theory of general relativity. three cheers for the method of science, an appliance that liberates and enlightens, suffocating the miasma of dogmatic parasitism. pariahs can't stand beneath the weight of empirical data. a culture of imperialism intoxicating inane idiots, inundated by asinine philosophy. ideologues instigating turmoil— vainly believing an intergalactic being created the cosmos in seven days for the predestined elect. to insist inanely that the legacy of our existence could be measured in seven millennia is to extinguish the light from the majority of our neighboring galaxies. you read the opening lines of your holy text too literally. open your mind to the poetry of a reality that no deity could ever breathe into existence. we are not special. our fate is tied to a planet choking on CO2 and you deny the truth in the same breath you disparage any challenge to your impotent, imaginary friend. **** sapiens— mere animals cursed with conscience. if you would deny the ancestral history of our evolutionary biology simply on the premise that it's “only a theory,” then i'd invite you to put your vain hypothesis to the test and take a long walk off a short bridge. perhaps the theory of gravity will provide with you some clarity.
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Feb 16, 2016
Feb 16, 2016 at 12:01 AM UTC
theory
Inspiration from making amazing quotations The nation's defending its life with its shields But the swords are all rusted the kingdom's been busted and the ******* are bathing in gold that they steal While the people are lying their babies are crying their rhythm is dying 'cause heartbeats are gone But they carry it trying to stop themselves crying as they can't do nothing but watch on and on As the bankers get richer the poor men get poorer the ones in the middle are learning to steal Where before they just borrowed now they got new sorrow but still they don't know that they ain't down at heel They think they are poor so they vote in the richest just hoping the ******* will keep them in funds While the genuine destitute lie in the street and the taxes are funding those twats' cummerbunds There's a baby who's crying not just 'cause she's some brat who ain't got no ice cream she's dying of cold Yes it happens in streets prob'ly near where you live it isn't just something in stories of old There are people out there in the gorbals and barrios the projects the banlieues the hoods and the schemes Where their lives are the ghetto there is no way out but to hope or to rap or to wing on a dream They ask why you ain't reading you try but it's killing you trying to provide for a family of two When your mother's alone lying slumped on the sofa and work w-w-working is all you can do When the **** do you think I'm supposed to be doing this **** that you say I cannot live without? If you listened to lyrics from songs you disparage you might start to feel an iota of doubt They're intelligent, eloquent, more so than you with your old boy school accent and ballot box blue Can you rap, can you rhyme, can you keep it in time can you tell of the **** that your family's been through? No you sit in your office and scoff at the people who spend their whole lives in a world that is real They don't give a **** if you judge them or not but they just want to shout at you FEEL, ****** FEEL
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Jun 23, 2015
Jun 23, 2015 at 11:54 AM UTC
Inspiration
Inspiration from making amazing quotations The nation's defending its life with its shields But the swords are all rusted the kingdom's been busted and the ******* are bathing in gold that they steal While the people are lying their babies are crying their rhythm is dying 'cause heartbeats are gone But they carry it trying to stop themselves crying as they can't do nothing but watch on and on As the bankers get richer the poor men get poorer the ones in the middle are learning to steal Where before they just borrowed now they got new sorrow but still they don't know that they ain't down at heel They think they are poor so they vote in the richest just hoping the ******* will keep them in funds While the genuine destitute lie in the street and the taxes are funding those twats' cummerbunds There's a baby who's crying not just 'cause she's some brat who ain't got no ice cream she's dying of cold Yes it happens in streets prob'ly near where you live it isn't just something in stories of old There are people out there in the gorbals and barrios the projects the banlieues the hoods and the schemes Where their lives are the ghetto there is no way out but to hope or to rap or to wing on a dream They ask why you ain't reading you try but it's killing you trying to provide for a family of two When your mother's alone lying slumped on the sofa and work w-w-working is all you can do When the **** do you think I'm supposed to be doing this **** that you say I cannot live without? If you listened to lyrics from songs you disparage you might start to feel an iota of doubt They're intelligent, eloquent, more so than you with your old boy school accent and ballot box blue Can you rap, can you rhyme, can you keep it in time can you tell of the **** that your family's been through? No you sit in your office and scoff at the people who spend their whole lives in a world that is real They don't give a **** if you judge them or not but they just want to shout at you FEEL, ****** FEEL
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41
They tried so hard to banish me To eternal non-entity; They resented my voice They denied me a choice; I had to be the type of soul Adhering to their own goals. The don’t care what we suffer They speechify and don’t stutter. They haven’t been secretive About the way they’d have me live. They bellow and bawl their mind And little of it is anything kind. They have no obvious compunction Behind their every injunction. They point and label me something odd, Invoke a two thousand year-old god. They drape themselves in our flag And shout names like queer and *** And tell us we are abominations Not fit to live in Christian nations But they forget that we all free To choose what our religion will be. In truth, they do not seem to care About anyone’s opinion but theirs. The hardest thing of all to bear Is for all the venom they share Is that this country has rules That they ignore by being fools. They want the right to tell us all Who we can bring with us to the ball And who we can love or marry. What a heinous load for us to carry. There may be nothing quite as egregious As a congressman all sanctimonious Who tells us we must not disparage The sanctity of heterosexual marriage Whether is his bride number three or four That’s exactly what the Christianity is for Because didn’t Jesus himself say He didn’t want no homos today?
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Jun 28, 2015
Jun 28, 2015 at 9:12 PM UTC
FUNERAL FOR A SACRED COW
Walk with me, while I age Help me write, each tortured page Instill in me, compassion and courage To my ego, and oppression discourage Assist me to, life’s challenges manage Forgive my failures, do not disparage In grief, with comfort, do me assuage In death, my virtues, with homage gauge BOEMS BY JA 344
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Jan 12, 2016
Jan 12, 2016 at 10:15 AM UTC
ADJURE
Every little thought Seems dominated by him Taking all the credit Where is the humility? Under the furred pelt? In the arrogant forest? Egotistical glamour Self absorbed valor A lion with too much roar Tape his grand mouth shut Break his pearly white teeth now Disparage his pride The proud tiger now a mouse Strength becomes feeble Head hangs in total disgrace
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Apr 25, 2013
Apr 25, 2013 at 3:27 PM UTC
Pride - Senryu 1
And it still hurts, it never easy to forget. For what you put in versus what you actually get. Dear Starlight, don’t admit. I think it’s something we both will not regret. Go on cut me down. Are you seeking that reaction?! Don’t bore me with a useless explanation. You have my word, there are only lies in my sincerity. Pause in hesitation. But you lie and look down and try to disparage me. Looks with expectations. Are my scars worth understanding? My dreams are scattered and blurry But there is nothing more real than what’s in front of me. If you cannot see that, than what does anything mean? Besides if it provides any clarity. Looking back on it has been the best I have ever seen. And something we both do not deserve but have both been getting. Don’t let it get into your head and fill you with anger and dread. Where you begin to find everything wrong with me and use it like a target because your mad. We will get passed this storm don’t let it make you sad. I would give anything, I want to start over again. How could I have been so blind? Where do I begin? -RSC
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Mar 9, 2022
Mar 9, 2022 at 10:43 PM UTC
Dear Starlight💫✨
Is liking someone so uncommon or wanting someone, a new phenomenon? Are you an April - wreaking the milieu to discourage me? Is that why you disparage him to such a degree? He’s heartful and sincerious, he’s slammin’ hot but oblivious. He’s music, lust and fun, all rolled into one. So, I’m calling you off, stop blowing up my phone. You might as well not bother, We’ve got dibs on each other. What’s really good? He’s really good.
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Aug 18, 2022
Aug 18, 2022 at 4:23 PM UTC
metrophobia
Who to talk too? You? Should be able too; Wow. We took vows. As I fear mortality You call out morality. Yow. Wrong somehow. We need to weather Somehow stay together How, me and thou?
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Aug 4, 2018
Aug 4, 2018 at 6:57 PM UTC
MARRIAGE DISPARAGE
A poem is grand that's got summat to say. But if it says nowt it still passes the time o' day. Never disparage another mans writing. He may be twice your size and good at fighting!!!!!
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Apr 25, 2010
Apr 25, 2010 at 10:03 AM UTC
Be Careful Who you Criticise!
The coolest girls in the world put rings in the places where doctors disconnected them from their mothers. Guys put ink in their forearms. Spaces in their ears. Their parents say things like, “what the **** But even they know ink and plastic gaps are better expressions than dead Vietnamese and **** Better expressions than a vote towards Michael Reagan’s father, the movie star. You were the fools that bought homes, cars, and color tv’s on unprecedented credit, things for your daughters and sons that they would probably disparage if only they knew the word. You were the ******** that made Sam’s Club, because Costco and Wal-mart weren’t enough. The one’s that plugged us into free AOL accounts that Stater Brother’s gave you with your purchase of Pop Tarts and Cookie Crisps. I guess you could say the ink in our arms is yours as much as ours. The thing about ink though, is that it’s more constant than anything this generation has ever known. When our TV’s become internet, and internet 4G, and 4G spaceships, the **** in our arms will persist as what was once alive. It will remind us of the life we lived before we were tattooed with the consumerism and media that you did nothing to stop.    Maybe you should have kept doing acid, you all were much more promising in the 60's.
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Apr 7, 2015
Apr 7, 2015 at 12:57 AM UTC
Maybe you should have kept doing acid, you all were much more promising in the 60's.
A gagged mouth screams mindfully in pain. An outreached hand ****** to grasp air. It mumbles and yells to the self imposed chain. Veil of joy, Depths of despair. A fisherman watches, her mast crest the Earth. A flower watches her buzz by. Tears disparage pain, void of her worth. Absent of reason, They wither and die. Once again, Alone.
0
Oct 22, 2018
Oct 22, 2018 at 1:09 PM UTC
Chains of Imposition
He found out today that the little girl he called his daughter wasnt his He's lost. And heartbroken so he confronts the woman who is Supposedly and suppose to be The one who's openly honest But now heading south from wedding bells and from the promise Made in there vows as they vowed Not to be Deceitful but all people are capable Of an evil. Deed So as he yells and demands she Stand before him and say The name of who detains the title of A man who stained with DNA Their marriage to disparage the love that they had And as he goes silent his wife in Tears says. U are her dad Cause u are the one who stayed up All night when she was sick Your the one she calls daddy and If your not biologically it By our daughter won't see it is Like that in any way She will only see the man she gave Butterfly kisses to and gave Cards that she made on your birthday and may Not be blood to u but still comes to u Every Father's Day To hug u and love u and what can u Remember That ever showed otherwise All I can say is forever I will regret all I bet And lost while I gambled Our love, our marriage and family The secret wasnt easy to handle But if u chose to leave its fine I Deserve it but plz stop And realize with no angry thought That what I deserve she does not And as he swears to tell their now 12 year old daughter he leaves To pick her up at school and when he does in the car she sneezed And said she felt sick, and then said with a laugh I might be sick but I don't mind because dad like u always have U will bring me soup in bed and kiss my forehead and that Always makes me feel better Plus u do anything I ask and he laughs with her knowing he is a servant when she's sick And as they get home the car stops And he says I think I should tell u something important Cuz it's better u know And as she looks in his eyes with Innocence she nods her head as to say go And as he starts to cry their hands meet and hold once they touch And he says... It's important u know... That I love u so much...
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Sep 28, 2014
Sep 28, 2014 at 1:04 PM UTC
Is he still the dad, if he is not?
He found out today that the little girl he called his daughter wasnt his He's lost. And heartbroken so he confronts the woman who is Supposedly and suppose to be The one who's openly honest But now heading south from wedding bells and from the promise Made in there vows as they vowed Not to be Deceitful but all people are capable Of an evil. Deed So as he yells and demands she Stand before him and say The name of who detains the title of A man who stained with DNA Their marriage to disparage the love that they had And as he goes silent his wife in Tears says. U are her dad Cause u are the one who stayed up All night when she was sick Your the one she calls daddy and If your not biologically it By our daughter won't see it is Like that in any way She will only see the man she gave Butterfly kisses to and gave Cards that she made on your birthday and may Not be blood to u but still comes to u Every Father's Day To hug u and love u and what can u Remember That ever showed otherwise All I can say is forever I will regret all I bet And lost while I gambled Our love, our marriage and family The secret wasnt easy to handle But if u chose to leave its fine I Deserve it but plz stop And realize with no angry thought That what I deserve she does not And as he swears to tell their now 12 year old daughter he leaves To pick her up at school and when he does in the car she sneezed And said she felt sick, and then said with a laugh I might be sick but I don't mind because dad like u always have U will bring me soup in bed and kiss my forehead and that Always makes me feel better Plus u do anything I ask and he laughs with her knowing he is a servant when she's sick And as they get home the car stops And he says I think I should tell u something important Cuz it's better u know And as she looks in his eyes with Innocence she nods her head as to say go And as he starts to cry their hands meet and hold once they touch And he says... It's important u know... That I love u so much...
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I live in a world of intolerant people Who insist their way is the best. Many say theirs is the only way; They totally reject all the rest. I always have had trouble with that, Saying their loving god hates; That their god would choose some to Leave standing hopeless at the gate. I read the books that believers claim Will cleanse me and make me blessed. They verbally promise heaven to me If I but bend my knee and request Acceptance of a human turned into god For my personal and holy savior. It has always seemed to me to be A rather superstitious sort of behavior. It smacks of me throwing salt around To promise myself the best of luck. Or avoiding stepping on any crack. Mumbo jumbo for which I have no truck. I read more than the books of religions To find out where the myth came from. I am now informed about the eucharist To know I don’t need a single crumb. I don’t disparage those who believe Any more than those who wear copper To ward of arthritis and rheumatism. I’ve seen those beliefs come a cropper. Let others sing songs and nursery rhymes About golden streets and pie in the sky. I prefer reality in the here and now. I’m not a bit superstitious, no not I.
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Nov 16, 2016
Nov 16, 2016 at 3:36 PM UTC
HOLY SMOKE AND MIRRORS
We were two weird birds of the same feathers. One melancholy morning, you decided to break my wings. I reciprocated by poking holes in your chest. Our love felt mellifluously ephemeral. Like our favorite memory in a distant yesterday. We glide eloquently in elegance with no sense of direction. As you stained my cloudy skies with a craving for disparage lust.
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Jan 31, 2016
Jan 31, 2016 at 4:38 AM UTC
We Were