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"disruption" poems
mementos richly held hidden in fractured chest big people shifting boxes heavy light silenced a child's fissure clasping favourite shell close swift salvage in tight world rescue from gaping hole #family #disruption #moving #treasures #mementos #lost #ignored
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Jul 22, 2018
Jul 22, 2018 at 3:46 PM UTC
blind spot
You're a volcano in winter Made when the Earth splintered Tectonic plates shifted And you were gifted The frigid air outside is subzero So you become my volcanic hero When you scorch the cold With your warmth so bold I await an eruption But there's a disruption Dormant you remain With suspicion engrained But entering your main vent Was not my main intent Yet now that I'm in your magma chamber I can see your anger You're made of lava and ash So you demand drama and cash And violently explode in a flash You've become my Krakatoa When I wish I didn't know ya Because of your grand magnitude I question my aptitude And insecurity ensues As confidence I lose I realize I've gone too far When I feel your lava discharge That pushes me into your crater The pain I feel couldn't be greater When all I see is an ashen cloud And all I hear is your lashing growl Inside of your volcano There is a tornado As sure as day glow I feel I must lay low And dodge the debris While playing referee As you're dissecting me In your burning sea That swirls in a cyclone maelstrom Hell is where it was mailed from I receive it Reprieveless I begin to drown in fire And wish to retire You think you're neat Yet despite your heat You're a cold blooded lizard But outside there's a blizzard So I get used to your volcano I can't contain my disdain though
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Jan 9, 2018
Jan 9, 2018 at 6:18 AM UTC
Volcano
Right now, as we speak, there's a little boy, aged five Pushed aside on the corner of his mat, where he naps His fingers are clenched onto shredded crumbs of bread He managed to get his hands on this morning despite his mother's constant nags About having to save the last few bits for his new born sister   Ashes and rubble are his best friends ever since he can remember Disturbance aches him no more For everything he's ever known are dents   He wouldn't know what the other side of the rainbow looks like, let alone both For he's never encountered a rainbow during his yelps of pain Pressure, abundance of destruction, humiliation His innocent weeps never reach aid He is now used to it No more room to present emotion For everything he's encountered will forever be frozen in time He wouldn't know what peace is, ever For contrarily that would be foreign to him Therefore, somewhere in this world, silence takes over This little boy whose whole life has been built on lies and disruption
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Aug 20, 2016
Aug 20, 2016 at 4:57 PM UTC
Somewhere In This World
~ *Lipstick to void. She is a race against time. The beveled past a disruption in her lines of influence. Travel is dangerous, and tonight it darkens the highway of blood vessels coursing through her extremities. She wants to be luminous and under the skin. While Dorothy dreams of tornadoes in Kansas, she dreams of remote climbs in lesser Glasgow, of party drugs in Tokyo. How many lights does she see? In her hair are sixty circuits. But she waits, religiously inclined on the hotel bed. She drove through ghosts to get here wearing nothing but Las Vegas. So strange at this hour, in a city full of sleepwalkers for the taking, she now dreams she's a bulldozer, she now dreams she's alone in an empty field.* ~
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Dec 26, 2022
Dec 26, 2022 at 4:36 PM UTC
Queen of the Surface Streets
They call it a 'Class War" They call it a "War of Liberation" whilst its just another instance of white oppression Childish, immature, mean and nasty underachievers like the kid on the beach who kicks over others sandcastle because they are better than the ******* castle he made Like that that uncool dumb teen who scatters the board game because he's now seen that he is losing and cannot win at all like those ugly pimpled friends who would play gooseberry and cock-blockers because  they can't get nice dates of their own like that bitter mad one who will spill ink over your white top or new Trainers because he or she has old and ***** ones They are all from the world of the sicko psychos and damaged talent-less mean, envious, sad pathetic people going nowhere If I can't make it, why should others do and be winners They all graduate to the divisive politics of the ****** losers Power is stopping progress and advancement because they are down Power is bringing achievers and enterprise down they can's gain Power is sabotaging all that is good because they are bad in all Measly fetid minds they plot and conspire in gangrenous network dolts, scums, unwashed losers and rejects of society, bottom feeders Come join the Party, our specialty is chaos and disruption of winners The pathetic jokes of the white West, losers in their own backyards picks on an African who came from disadvantages to better them better educated, more intelligent, cool and stylish in every way pack full of potential, going places they can never go or reach Our sick, mean spirited under-achievers, expert losers and scums crawled on the war-path, riddled with envy, sick with jealousy ruin his progress, oppose and disrupt a black man who doubles efforts to achieve, what if losers try is given to them on a plate What here is done for the greater good, what here is honorable celebrated victories for psychos, racist underachievers I think not peoples power? more sick, tormented, jealous n envious chicanery anarchy jealousy, anarchy shame, anarchy racists, anarchy liars One Single Black achiever demonstrates the inherent strength and grace of our all our Ancestors against sick, persistent white oppression. That's the story here. If its a fair war, why hide and go underground, why fight *****
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May 17, 2019
May 17, 2019 at 7:40 AM UTC
They glorify sick sadistic oppression...
They call it a 'Class War" They call it a "War of Liberation" whilst its just another instance of white oppression Childish, immature, mean and nasty underachievers like the kid on the beach who kicks over others sandcastle because they are better than the ******* castle he made Like that that uncool dumb teen who scatters the board game because he's now seen that he is losing and cannot win at all like those ugly pimpled friends who would play gooseberry and cock-blockers because  they can't get nice dates of their own like that bitter mad one who will spill ink over your white top or new Trainers because he or she has old and ***** ones They are all from the world of the sicko psychos and damaged talent-less mean, envious, sad pathetic people going nowhere If I can't make it, why should others do and be winners They all graduate to the divisive politics of the ****** losers Power is stopping progress and advancement because they are down Power is bringing achievers and enterprise down they can's gain Power is sabotaging all that is good because they are bad in all Measly fetid minds they plot and conspire in gangrenous network dolts, scums, unwashed losers and rejects of society, bottom feeders Come join the Party, our specialty is chaos and disruption of winners The pathetic jokes of the white West, losers in their own backyards picks on an African who came from disadvantages to better them better educated, more intelligent, cool and stylish in every way pack full of potential, going places they can never go or reach Our sick, mean spirited under-achievers, expert losers and scums crawled on the war-path, riddled with envy, sick with jealousy ruin his progress, oppose and disrupt a black man who doubles efforts to achieve, what if losers try is given to them on a plate What here is done for the greater good, what here is honorable celebrated victories for psychos, racist underachievers I think not peoples power? more sick, tormented, jealous n envious chicanery anarchy jealousy, anarchy shame, anarchy racists, anarchy liars One Single Black achiever demonstrates the inherent strength and grace of our all our Ancestors against sick, persistent white oppression. That's the story here. If its a fair war, why hide and go underground, why fight *****
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37
God created earth Man created destruction God created trees Man created disruption God created rain Man created pollution God created man Man created Greed God created love Man created Cheat God created peace Man created execution God created rest Man created death God created commandments Man created laws God created us Man created mistrust.
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Sep 7, 2014
Sep 7, 2014 at 4:40 PM UTC
Man VS God
Isolationist theories of my brutal development A mask In the world of passengers Regretting every slight disruption Making icy chatters of teeth As we wonder How will these small altercations Affect the grand course of my surreptitious collapse? Just a violent object on an axis A washer head thrown into a tumultuous ocean of visions A flickering correspondent Lying on an abolition The worst things happening to the best people It spins and breaths and ***** This molested scared demon Anally penetrating all that I believe is genuine Reels of my childhood development Played on repeat to search for ammunition The tunneling rib cages of my insanity The forest nymph of all that is good The one who created me Locked away in a windowless world Analyzed as if lockness was one of them I always thought it would be me Falling to where I could not be found How am I still standing?
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Nov 30, 2010
Nov 30, 2010 at 9:35 AM UTC
Survivalists are Loners
I get this feeling, It sinks through my spine. Sits in my bones. Like an unwanted guest, And I, the unwilling host. The intruder finds its way to my feet. Making my toes curl, And tap. Restlessly twitching, As if ready to run. But I'm not ready for anything. My hands do the same. Hard to hold anything, With this earthquake Terrorizing my body. Cold and uneasy, They cling to each other. Is it just a chemical, Artificial affliction? Or a symptom, Of all lost direction? Where do I put All this misplaced disruption? Now find the pieces, Paint the picture. Find some reason In this sloppy meter. My understated explanation.
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May 3, 2015
May 3, 2015 at 8:39 PM UTC
Warning signs
Enter the dragon with death and disruption Pride and tradition cataclysmically thrown, Magnificent structures reduced to rubble Distraught people bereft of their homes. Chasms of heartache with bodies of babies Strewn with the bricks in vast disarray, Dust in the air and the howl of the sirens Shouting police on a horror filled day. Christchurch is bleeding, her confidence shattered Our keynote cathedral is lying in shards, Vacant eyed people are clinging to strangers Jagged black holes in suburban back yards. Christchurch is bleeding, our torn, gracious City The nation arises in hurt and alarm, To face the challenge with strength and resources, To nurture our sister with healing and balm. Sympathy shown by the myriad faces Racing to help from all parts of the globe, Expertise offered with money and labour Students with shovels and priests of the robe. Sadness and torment for kin of the missing Frustrated rescuers work till relieved, Moments of triumph with lost resurrected, Agony felt when the dead are retrieved. Led by the strength of the Mayor of the City Courageous citizens help where they can, Moments of bravery, moments of agony Inspirational feats of elan. Poignancy shown by the sad Maori Warden Guiding the aged through the strewn broken glass, Aiding the ambulance crews in their labour Proud to be Kiwi as folk show their class. Christchurch WILL arise from the death and destruction Once again people will overcome grief, Pride and resilience will triumph with the passing And time will repair with deserved relief. Marshalg Victoria Park Tunnel AUCKLAND 25 February 2011
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Feb 25, 2011
Feb 25, 2011 at 8:26 AM UTC
Christchurch is Bleeding
Enter the dragon with death and disruption Pride and tradition cataclysmically thrown, Magnificent structures reduced to rubble Distraught people bereft of their homes. Chasms of heartache with bodies of babies Strewn with the bricks in vast disarray, Dust in the air and the howl of the sirens Shouting police on a horror filled day. Christchurch is bleeding, her confidence shattered Our keynote cathedral is lying in shards, Vacant eyed people are clinging to strangers Jagged black holes in suburban back yards. Christchurch is bleeding, our torn, gracious City The nation arises in hurt and alarm, To face the challenge with strength and resources, To nurture our sister with healing and balm. Sympathy shown by the myriad faces Racing to help from all parts of the globe, Expertise offered with money and labour Students with shovels and priests of the robe. Sadness and torment for kin of the missing Frustrated rescuers work till relieved, Moments of triumph with lost resurrected, Agony felt when the dead are retrieved. Led by the strength of the Mayor of the City Courageous citizens help where they can, Moments of bravery, moments of agony Inspirational feats of elan. Poignancy shown by the sad Maori Warden Guiding the aged through the strewn broken glass, Aiding the ambulance crews in their labour Proud to be Kiwi as folk show their class. Christchurch WILL arise from the death and destruction Once again people will overcome grief, Pride and resilience will triumph with the passing And time will repair with deserved relief. Marshalg Victoria Park Tunnel AUCKLAND 25 February 2011
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Kindness is not nice. ‘Nice’ is soft and inoffensive ‘Nice’ is careful and non-assertive ‘Nice’ is easy and effects no change she’s cotton wool trying to soften the pain but not stuffed tight, just resting on the surface ready to be blown away or pressed under a muddy boot of disinterest ‘Nice’ is a damp whisper a mouse cowering in the corner hoping you will blink and miss her lest she attract your notice lest she presume too much and cause a whisker of offence Kindness is not like that – Kindness pushes in, quick and nimble a hero with no mask, unasked unexpected, dodging the turmoil leaving nothing unsaid and little undone in her pursuit of creating a counter-disruption Kindness defies convention Kindness carefully aims her weapons of choice and advances relentless and regardless of any and all obstacles in her way Kindness perseveres all the love-long day Kindness doesn’t delay Kindness is gleeful for the chance of invasion ready to disarm with expert compassion with her regiments of patience armed to the teeth with gracious placing tanks of good faith on all fronts Kindness confronts Courage is her currency, boldness her language, trust and hope are her passports to lands long unexplored happily wearing all-weather clothing for any and all unexpected storms Kindness transforms Kindness weakens all defenses and challenges all camouflaged pretenses Kindness pours itself out to fill unhealed wounds and on shrapnel-seeded battlefields she - blooms Kindness is not 'nice' Kindness isn’t in this for the likes Kindness bites She’s a take-on-all-comers, undefeated delight Kindness never bails from the fight never fails, never takes flight Kindness is nothing casual, nothing incidental This Kindness is elemental She is Avengers-Assemble, End-Game-level monumental Kindness is not 'nice'. Kindness is loving awe-ful.
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Oct 12, 2020
Oct 12, 2020 at 8:45 AM UTC
Kindness bites
Kindness is not nice. ‘Nice’ is soft and inoffensive ‘Nice’ is careful and non-assertive ‘Nice’ is easy and effects no change she’s cotton wool trying to soften the pain but not stuffed tight, just resting on the surface ready to be blown away or pressed under a muddy boot of disinterest ‘Nice’ is a damp whisper a mouse cowering in the corner hoping you will blink and miss her lest she attract your notice lest she presume too much and cause a whisker of offence Kindness is not like that – Kindness pushes in, quick and nimble a hero with no mask, unasked unexpected, dodging the turmoil leaving nothing unsaid and little undone in her pursuit of creating a counter-disruption Kindness defies convention Kindness carefully aims her weapons of choice and advances relentless and regardless of any and all obstacles in her way Kindness perseveres all the love-long day Kindness doesn’t delay Kindness is gleeful for the chance of invasion ready to disarm with expert compassion with her regiments of patience armed to the teeth with gracious placing tanks of good faith on all fronts Kindness confronts Courage is her currency, boldness her language, trust and hope are her passports to lands long unexplored happily wearing all-weather clothing for any and all unexpected storms Kindness transforms Kindness weakens all defenses and challenges all camouflaged pretenses Kindness pours itself out to fill unhealed wounds and on shrapnel-seeded battlefields she - blooms Kindness is not 'nice' Kindness isn’t in this for the likes Kindness bites She’s a take-on-all-comers, undefeated delight Kindness never bails from the fight never fails, never takes flight Kindness is nothing casual, nothing incidental This Kindness is elemental She is Avengers-Assemble, End-Game-level monumental Kindness is not 'nice'. Kindness is loving awe-ful.
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a virtual network is the perfect place for an alien intelligence to infiltrate; passing as any number of avatars & spreading an anti-human philosophy in the war between robots & aliens w/ humanity no longer a factor, the robots freely the pummel the aliens w/ devastating laser precision; the aliens retaliating w/ hot magnets to heat the polymer machines to the melting point; the aliens unaware of the earth's default nuclear arsenal; triggered to explode as a last resort; mankind & machine joined as one & as the aliens land their ground forces a slight tremor becomes a supernova & the entire alien fleet is blown out of spacetime w/ such fiery havoc, the never seen & long extinct mankind becomes legendary for its viciousness hav·oc/ˈhavək/noun noun: havoc 1.        widespread destruction. "the hurricane ripped through Florida,                                       causing havoc" synonyms: devastation, destruction, damage, desolation, ruination, ruin; disaster, catastrophe "the hurricane caused havoc" great confusion or disorder. "schoolchildren wreaking havoc in the classroom" synonyms: disorder, chaos, disruption, mayhem, bedlam, pandemonium, turmoil, tumult, uproar; commotion, furor, a three-ring circus; informal:                                          hullabaloo "hyperactive children create havoc" verb: archaic: havoc; 3rd person present: havocs; past tense: havocked; past participle: havocked; gerund or present participle: havocking [               ].   (                   ) 1.                      lay waste to; devastate. late Middle English: from Anglo-Norman French havok, alteration of Old French havot, of unknown origin; the word was originally used in the phrase ‘cry havoc’; (Old French crier havot )         ‘to give an army the order - havoc,’ the signal for plundering
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Jul 26, 2018
Jul 26, 2018 at 8:04 PM UTC
War of the Words [... | ...]
a virtual network is the perfect place for an alien intelligence to infiltrate; passing as any number of avatars & spreading an anti-human philosophy in the war between robots & aliens w/ humanity no longer a factor, the robots freely the pummel the aliens w/ devastating laser precision; the aliens retaliating w/ hot magnets to heat the polymer machines to the melting point; the aliens unaware of the earth's default nuclear arsenal; triggered to explode as a last resort; mankind & machine joined as one & as the aliens land their ground forces a slight tremor becomes a supernova & the entire alien fleet is blown out of spacetime w/ such fiery havoc, the never seen & long extinct mankind becomes legendary for its viciousness hav·oc/ˈhavək/noun noun: havoc 1.        widespread destruction. "the hurricane ripped through Florida,                                       causing havoc" synonyms: devastation, destruction, damage, desolation, ruination, ruin; disaster, catastrophe "the hurricane caused havoc" great confusion or disorder. "schoolchildren wreaking havoc in the classroom" synonyms: disorder, chaos, disruption, mayhem, bedlam, pandemonium, turmoil, tumult, uproar; commotion, furor, a three-ring circus; informal:                                          hullabaloo "hyperactive children create havoc" verb: archaic: havoc; 3rd person present: havocs; past tense: havocked; past participle: havocked; gerund or present participle: havocking [               ].   (                   ) 1.                      lay waste to; devastate. late Middle English: from Anglo-Norman French havok, alteration of Old French havot, of unknown origin; the word was originally used in the phrase ‘cry havoc’; (Old French crier havot )         ‘to give an army the order - havoc,’ the signal for plundering
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Heat Calcification Incalescence Swelter Suffocation Arctic circle above 32 degrees Fahrenheit in December Leaking lakes of Methane gas in Siberia Scientific data to price Changing 2 degrees has caused mass extinction Melting glaciers Oceans 7 centimeters higher Drought in the Amazon Changes in migration Disruption in pollination Heatwaves: high death tolls Decreased plant growth Zika in Florida Ignorance from the government Refusal of proof Nonbelievers in the White House
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Dec 16, 2016
Dec 16, 2016 at 12:12 PM UTC
Climate Change
Kindness is not nice. Nice is soft and inoffensive. Nice is easy and effects no change, it's cotton wool - not stuffed tight, but just resting on the surface ready to be blown away or trodden into a muddy disinterest. Nice is a damp whisper, a mouse cowering in the corner, taking up as little space as possible, lest it be noticed, lest it presume too much and cause a whisker of offence. Kindness isn't like that - Kindness pushes in, claws out, quick and heavy, uninvited, unexpected, taking pleasure in disturbance, in leaving nothing unsaid and little undone in its pursuit of creating a disruption of difference. Kindness counts everyone a target, anybody a likely candidate for a three act matinee and evening performance of loud Kindness. Surprise is its currency, smiles its language, common humankindness its passport to lands yet to be explored, to vast red territories with drumbeats of gratefulness for the opportunity to march in with regiments of compassion and to leave a signature devastation of brutal Kindness. Kindness is not 'nice'. Kindness is loving awe-ful.
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Dec 24, 2019
Dec 24, 2019 at 3:37 AM UTC
Kindness is not Nice
I'm born Airborne Forlorn In war torn Discord My ripcord I pull for liberation Alienation aviation Away from a station Of no relation Where their elation Lies in degeneration The fright fair Nightmare In sight there Is a right scare But light flares From an illuminated theater I dive into art To fill my meter I consume Darkened tomb Screen in room Is where I loom Inspiration blooms From a sense of doom My separation reparation That will lead to veneration My artistic fervor Drifted further Drifter's murmurs Lifted learners But gifted murderers Shifted girders Of shame and honesty To my grave of modesty Where they prey upon me This plagiarism Layered schism Cratered rhythm Of great decisions Now I make incisions With repetition And the definition Of words stolen from me They're all I can see And I can't get free Or just let it be Consumption disruption At this junction I can't function A plagiarist ****** mist Grips my fist Makes me wish I don't exist I must resist Before I miss My chance at bliss They're ****** me By aping me Making me Shaking trees Of bumblebees With rumble pleas On humble knees Drinking antifreeze Nobody cares What's fair They bear And share Blank stares Up stairs Of artistic compromise Integrity lost in lies They're not that wise I hypothesize My baby Caught rabies From Hades Now ladies Flock to a thief Giving me grief Beyond belief In my coral reef Sword in sheath I drown discreet
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Aug 28, 2018
Aug 28, 2018 at 2:29 PM UTC
Plagiarism
1 Screams in the night, Sleeping all day. Yelps of pain, And cries of anger. ****** torture, Mind disruption, Soul disappearance Tears in the light Screams in the night. 2 Terror through and through, Scared thoughts of pain. Living in sadness, Then despair, Life drained. Dark appears. Nothing left. All taken and blue, Terror through and through.
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Sep 20, 2018
Sep 20, 2018 at 11:33 AM UTC
Terror Through and Through - 2011
There's been a disruption in your body's p a  tt  ern, b-r-a-n-c-h-i-n-g river ways                                                                            form a road map,              a maternal              mosaic, z i g g z a g g i n g                                   a   c   r   o   s   s peaks . . . and valleys, ******* >            bums ~                    hips ~                          and (~) tummies. Vividly hued in pinks or reds or silver threads. One-of-a-kind, universal at the same time. Glitter                                      stria,                  shiny, sparkly, oh-so                                     pretty.   Worn with pride!                                                                       Or do they hide? They test you,                       like any child, REFUSING to alter their behavior, REGARDLESS of how nicely you ask.                           Baby's left her mark on you! Love those lines as artistic souvenirs, acquired on the long journey                                                                        to becoming a mother.                                     Like                                     Love                                     Letters                                     they always have a story.   What does your story tell?
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Nov 7, 2019
Nov 7, 2019 at 8:34 PM UTC
Mark of Motherhood
There's been a disruption in your body's p a  tt  ern, b-r-a-n-c-h-i-n-g river ways                                                                            form a road map,              a maternal              mosaic, z i g g z a g g i n g                                   a   c   r   o   s   s peaks . . . and valleys, ******* >            bums ~                    hips ~                          and (~) tummies. Vividly hued in pinks or reds or silver threads. One-of-a-kind, universal at the same time. Glitter                                      stria,                  shiny, sparkly, oh-so                                     pretty.   Worn with pride!                                                                       Or do they hide? They test you,                       like any child, REFUSING to alter their behavior, REGARDLESS of how nicely you ask.                           Baby's left her mark on you! Love those lines as artistic souvenirs, acquired on the long journey                                                                        to becoming a mother.                                     Like                                     Love                                     Letters                                     they always have a story.   What does your story tell?
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The clouds of Pompeii had nothing on his heart. An eruption of UNCERTAINTY then his world e-x-p-l-o-d-e-d. lights extinguighed, joy (deleted). Night is now who was once Day. Corruption of a steaming bliss. Darkness gripped his mind - insomnia, coupled with a blind-ness.. that could only be caused by some serious disruption.... like the ash of Pompeii when it settled or the pain of a burnt page.
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Jul 20, 2018
Jul 20, 2018 at 6:25 AM UTC
backspace.
I am angry in my grave, Filled with disappointment, animosity, disbelief, and resentment, Blacks had no rights, Blacks had no freedom, Whites had the rights, and whites were the leaders, Until I chose not to abide by the regulations of inequality, And led the Civil Rights Movement, Fought conflicts with kindness, Opposed to Hatred and violence, And tolerance between the two ethnicities was born But why? For the non-colored and colored could equally cause treason? Or for racism to still apply in many communities? I fought for no discrimination. That doesn’t mean to enslave each other, cause disruption, unfairness, and deaths within the same race. Gangs committing murders because they feel certain things are out of place, Pilots flying planes into towers, 20 innocent children being massacred, Drug dealers smuggling crack in homes, All I see upon my grave is what I devoted my life to being destroyed. For that, I am angry in my Grave. “But Dr. King, things have changed. Blacks and whites can be friends, and we even have a BLACK PRESIDENT.” Yes, but you have to acknowledge the fact Obama agreed, And supported what I stood for. I was a pastor, A pastor who used the Bible as my Code of Conduct, A Bible in which Obama laid his right hand on And sworn on during his inauguration, While with his left hand, he’s supporting, Adam and Steve, and babies saying goodbye before they leave their mother’s Womb. For that, I am angry. “Martin Luther King will never be forgotten and his morals will be followed. He was a great leader and may he rest in peace.” How can I? Each day in my grave I mourn, I’m frustrated and disgusted, If I were still alive til this day, My tears would flood America, I would speak amongst the country and say, You have been indoctrinated by the wickedness of mankind, Propaganda is being embedded to get wrong points acrossed, For that, I will continue and forever be, Angry in my Grave.
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Jul 16, 2013
Jul 16, 2013 at 5:25 PM UTC
I am Angry in my grave (Martin Luther King’s perspective)
I am angry in my grave, Filled with disappointment, animosity, disbelief, and resentment, Blacks had no rights, Blacks had no freedom, Whites had the rights, and whites were the leaders, Until I chose not to abide by the regulations of inequality, And led the Civil Rights Movement, Fought conflicts with kindness, Opposed to Hatred and violence, And tolerance between the two ethnicities was born But why? For the non-colored and colored could equally cause treason? Or for racism to still apply in many communities? I fought for no discrimination. That doesn’t mean to enslave each other, cause disruption, unfairness, and deaths within the same race. Gangs committing murders because they feel certain things are out of place, Pilots flying planes into towers, 20 innocent children being massacred, Drug dealers smuggling crack in homes, All I see upon my grave is what I devoted my life to being destroyed. For that, I am angry in my Grave. “But Dr. King, things have changed. Blacks and whites can be friends, and we even have a BLACK PRESIDENT.” Yes, but you have to acknowledge the fact Obama agreed, And supported what I stood for. I was a pastor, A pastor who used the Bible as my Code of Conduct, A Bible in which Obama laid his right hand on And sworn on during his inauguration, While with his left hand, he’s supporting, Adam and Steve, and babies saying goodbye before they leave their mother’s Womb. For that, I am angry. “Martin Luther King will never be forgotten and his morals will be followed. He was a great leader and may he rest in peace.” How can I? Each day in my grave I mourn, I’m frustrated and disgusted, If I were still alive til this day, My tears would flood America, I would speak amongst the country and say, You have been indoctrinated by the wickedness of mankind, Propaganda is being embedded to get wrong points acrossed, For that, I will continue and forever be, Angry in my Grave.
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43
It's a routine and there is a disruption Everything is fine On the surface Dig deeper, an eruption. Let's believe in it but worry is constant companion, Hope is whimsical It flutters and breaks And burns again with flame. It was a dream, A beginning and the end, A living breathing trend. But a life is beyond imagination, Ups and downs and a show. Now to this slowdown, We don't know, The time in abundance Is going to drain A fear turning to a new name. The year has been straight out of some ******** movie It is building and building and no one knows what kind of end it will bring.
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May 2, 2020
May 2, 2020 at 5:55 AM UTC
How does it end?
A disruption in a peaceful world, everyday I’m At war and battling against myself. Clouds overcast my mind. Ugh, god, dad, I’m so sorry I’m like this. Edge is near, I think I’m losing my balance. I feel like I’m alone in this world. Guilt consumes my mind. I don’t know How to not feel like this. Innocence has disappeared, this is a jigsaw puzzle I simply can’t solve. Keep me close, keep me alive. Landfill of thoughts piling up in my mind. Missing a piece to the puzzle of life. No one understands why I’m like this, not even me. Once I wasn’t this crazy, Please don’t leave me here alone. Quick, I feel myself falling apart. Raging war in my mind, when will it end? Still searching for the piece that completes the puzzle. Tick, tick...time's running out. Underneath this craziness is a person needing to be loved. Visions of something better, it wasn’t supposed to be like this. It’s warmth I crave, I need a hand to hold. Looking at an X-ray of this broken thing that can never be put back together. Yes, I’m still here. My sanity may not be but I am. Zigzagging.
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Sep 20, 2016
Sep 20, 2016 at 2:36 PM UTC
Dad, I'm sorry I'm like this.
I tripped over the eggshells again. I’m supposed to tiptoe but sometimes they are scattered where I don’t see them or I didn’t think it mattered; or they just appear where a moment before they did not exist. So the path that least resists- is taken. Sometimes I forget. (I have not seen them for so long) A simple conversation turns – There’s neither right nor wrong but the eggshells emerge. Decisions are made on the spot or not. Depends. To walk upon them or confront them head on; Turn my back, (avoid confrontation) or keep on track, (Defend my reputation). What will cause least disruption in the end.? I tripped over the eggshells again. I could just walk on top but then pay the price of broken eggshells in my life. And start all over or stop. © 2012 Marlene Dunham
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Dec 1, 2012
Dec 1, 2012 at 11:58 PM UTC
Eggshells
Come here and take my hand Together right now we take our last stand To end this ******* pitiful corruption The ignorant will no longer be a disruption You are probably wondering how I’ll tell you this now we will never bow No one said this would be easy For a while, we will be busy We’ll start with the hardworking and the brave They’re the people who can pull off the save The way of progression is always right This will be the main event fight Now roll both your sleeves Don’t use your back bend your knees We’re improving this world Earth So every kid has an equal chance at birth
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Jul 25, 2016
Jul 25, 2016 at 7:46 PM UTC
An Equal Chance at Birth
Some people remind me of a campfire, a source of eclectic senses: the smoky wood, the evolutionary fascination of the flame, the warmth and chill of a starry night. Others remind me of a snow day in grade school, a source of jittery incongruence: the sprinkles of white, the disruption of monotonous school work, the mischief of nature coming to the rescue. You remind me of an early morning rain, a source of calm melancholy: the soft droplets on leaves, the lessened saturation from the overcast, the heightened realization and contentment of one's existence. The essence of people epitomized as scenes and collective experiences; it is not so much of what it is but rather how it makes you feel.
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Apr 12, 2024
Apr 12, 2024 at 6:36 PM UTC
The Essence of People