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RAO Aug 2018
2 Liters Width this Bottle Neck had her Thirsty when i Pop Off.
"Hes Got a Unique Meter!"

Thinkin outside my Thoughts Manipulate Face hands off my Clock Box a Movie Theater
Soft Drinkin my Equilibriums "DAnkh"...
Hook up The Bracelet of Anubis Call it my I Watch
Achilles Heels turning red and blue takin on a Dog WALK
no roads better to cross Sapphire bird " Call that a Cold ****¡!"
from a "Pacman" in Paris Pans Panning Labyrinths A Mazed running on music like Tha Rock whippin better then jimmy Neutrons Stovetopper
... Style makes Our Classic Modern Eighties cheatah?
UhDDuz(UDDERS+ADIDAS) "GODDARD" "SkyWalker" Call that Harry Potter at the Roboxer smoking bud from jimmy Wonkers GobStoppers.
give that a D +
Oh Gosh *** in CVS / HoMâge/ Po-ca-hon-tas chair gifted like Op-rahs-Hola-no bras vuela-ar tuoi o-Yâ aur-revior no-mas Veteran Indi-En Sit-in on ma stick shift of Mua Cö-Brâ..... engine Knocking sicker then Jehovah with pneumonia
Can we get every Ticket so i can load the Super Bowl Comon!
Makin her Jaw Drop ready to turn Dragon Rude into an tan Dra
Dolph-in ima RAOBAWT fly fishin Santa Cla₩§ Idle Hands Examined n Exposé Gods
lips im here to naturally Lift I'd Volunteer for Slavery if the Hills were rich like Jessica Albas Exposed ***

yo problems in the street
I get hi on Florida Keys You a Hero Touch Down!
Stranger Danger in my End Zone
We are all manipulating this social machine,
I wish more people would dream (like me).

What seems inspiring? Be visionary!
Take leave of these social machinations,
Overthrow the magistracy.

We all have an expiration date
so best get the ball going. Be brave,
Scare us, I want to see heads rolling.

Life can be explained in a two-syllable phonetic:
Be, leave; believe
Phonetica duumvirate.
Shofi Ahmed Oct 2018
Adam touches down
in heaven upon the high.
But his highwater mark
wasn’t solely one way.

He could hear the jingle
upon the high resonates
beneath the ground!

He could see the cloud
forms on the top
and rains down to the ground.

Bow down on the earth
and rise high.
Lo, the golden spiral too,
curves downward
before spiking high up.
Marla Apr 2019
Ignore me, why don't you?
If I saw you again it'd be too soon!
I can't stand you when you're quiet.
I'm here so please stay silent.
I love you with all my heart.
I despise you and your art.
**** yourself and meet your end.
Why won't you speak to me again?
Spicy Digits Apr 2019
They want to slice me neatly
and pack me into tupperware containers
They want to keep me locked in storage
till I expire

I want to angrily hip-****** to a love ballad
atop the communal lunch table
breaking into song whenever it moves me
till I perspire

They want to grind me down to cinnamon
maybe sweet or savoury but never both,
They want to snort me like a politician
till I disappear

I want to take a baseball bat to parked cars
and disappoint my 2nd grade teacher
I want to wear a sequined cape everyday
of every year

They want to dress me in little triangles
and chain me to sullen girls in leather
They want to take lots of fleshy photos
till I matter

I want to paint cemeteries in yellow
and play thumb wars in the nursing home
I want to shave my hair and make it my wig
until I'm even madder
Self acceptance
Emma Oct 2016
It's the first day of school, Everything's going to be good.
It's the first day of school, I just want to stay home.

I wonder if my friends are still going to be by my side when I'm older.
I wonder if my friends are just going to abandon me when I'm older.

Sometimes, i look back at the past and think of how strong i was.
Sometimes, i look back at the past and think of how weak i was.

when I'm down, i think of all the good things I've done
when I'm down, i think of all the good things i haven't done.
Just writing this poem/vent because this is usually how people who procrastinate or people with anxiety think. it's nothing much.
CK Baker Jan 2017
Thank you ~
for a life not to trade
blessings, in spades
tight spaces
behind laundry doors
packed closets
and open drawers
gator tails, tarnished brass
cracks in kitchen sliding glass
wet towels, withering plants
foundation filled
with carpenter ants
buckets piled with
shoes and tags
village clothes
and saddlebags
peeling paint
and broken walls
****** seats
in bathroom stalls
clogged pantry
frigid rooms
table scribe
and carbon fumes
comfort capsules
empty tanks
broken limbs
from children’s pranks
**** finger
double tongue
long goodbyes
and sidewalk dung
cluster flies
chavie’ clique
the hypocrite
cracked back
and hidden smiles
chalk on board
with mr miles
atomic wedgies
closing doors
wrotten eggs
and open sores
jaw jack
nasty folk
dinner calls
for pig in poke
penny pinchers
double dip
yellow mouth
and silver tip
brown nosers
thick red tape
paper cuts
and pimple nape
so out of norm
the joy of life
in basic form
zumee Nov 2018
Her face collapsed
Waves of love
into particles
when he asked for a *******.
Débijonne Aug 2018
Almost asleep when my phone ticked;
'A notification,' it says.
Your name was there, you liked my photo.
And my stomach drowned in butterflies—
Scratch that—moths, surely they're moths.
Stronger, buzzier, like your power
To occupy and stay in my brain
With that single heart emoji beside your name.
Thinking that the double tap
Is as if you love me just the same.
Shoutout to those whose crushes follow them on instagram. Mine doesn't. :( HAHAHA
Traveler Sep 2019
This phone call may sound
A little on the strange side
Please bare with me
As I attempt to convey
A sort of phenomenon

Tim was angry with me
When he realize you called
And I just couldn't answer
So I must apologize
For my action
Tim has forgotten
How you turned your back on him
And left him to rot in prison
But then again
I'm not him right now
And I remember
TheRhymeRenegade Mar 2018
Self destructive, the way I always lived
can't take care of myself
I need somebody else
I'm not proud of the things I've done
I get drunk and I get stuck on having fun
its a curse and I'm sure I do it all
to avoid all the noise and how much I fall

but you believe in me
and its not at all hard to see
you are something else
you help me build a better version of myself
baby you made me, baby you saved me
I appreciate you, and all the little things you make sure I do
have no idea what you saw in me
you help me see who I'm meant to be
so I'll roll the dice, put my drink on ice
pretend I'm not a wreck
I get myself together, I'm not out of the game yet

Here we are it's pouring rain
I wait with baited breath
And fight the urge to choreograph
my delightful dance of death
hesitant to play again
because I always lose
but I cannot say no to you
so tell me, what's the use?

but you believe in me
and its not at all hard to see
you are something else
you help me build a better version of myself
baby you made me, baby you saved me
I appreciate you, and all the little things you make sure I do
have no idea what you saw in me
you help me see who I'm meant to be
so I'll roll the dice, put my drink on ice
pretend I'm not a wreck
I get myself together, I'm not out of the game yet

tell me, are you a gamblin' man?
or prudent with your bets
do you crown the middle ground
repay all your debts
maybe we could take the risk
50/50 go all in
because all I've ever wanted
is to someday, finally win

but you believe in me
and its not at all hard to see
you are something else
you help me build a better version of myself
baby you made me, baby you saved me
I appreciate you, and all the little things you make sure I do
have no idea what you saw in me
you help me see who I'm meant to be
so I'll roll the dice, put my drink on ice
pretend I'm not a wreck
I get myself together, I'm not out of the game yet
Mateuš Conrad Jan 2016
.at this point, in this particular instance, Kant's philosophy doesn't really matter, but it does matter for whatever particulars are left within it for the individual, rather than: labour freely, come and be bed entertainment compulsively sort of man... you can really listen of a psychologist talk, a philosopher will not talk, a psychiatrist will such listen and spoon you with pharma beige and bitter pills... or if you're lucky? porcelain and pale daffodil powder... never mind... the priest will spew his usual *******... the ******* will just construct an idea of a conversation with an O, an Oh-nomotopoeia... every woman is beautiful with eyes closed experiencing an ******... but these days Kantian philosophy isn't pop, thanks to Nietzsche calling the great sage of Königsberg an idiot... i never liked psychology... it was always too sophistry-riddled... rhetoric after rhetorical after rhetoric after rhetorical, yadda yadda yadda... regrets to fans of Nietzsche... i quiet like the the königsberg clock - disciplined man - people would wind their clocks when they saw him pass... and he went as far as 40 miles outside of königsberg... that's dedication... that's discipline... so watching this commando "vs." jordan peterson video... the "warrior-philosopher" mentality: sure... ever get taught martial arts by being kicked in the genitals by your tutor? oh yeah... that really makes you engaged in continuing the classes... a martial arts tutor kicks you in the *******: you become as much an enthusiast of the martial arts classes as a sumo wrestler would become on a vegan diet... "warrior-philosopher"... socrates pulled it off, but he was the one asking the question, not bloated in self-"awareness": the monologue... but socrates is a debate worth... or was he just lucky to have survived to ask the right questions? homer saw the battle of troy... and he was... a ***** poet... warrior-philosopher my ***... what are these, "current" wars about? they're about proxy... proxy wars are not worth fighting... iraq? proxy war. afghanistan? proxy war. libya? proxy war. one proxy after another... warrior at the gym... the actual warriors? on the other side? yeah: they don't gym bro... and they're not custard pie in the face mince meat cuddled together for a bicep... when wars made, sense... you'd get conscripted... but this current pro army classes, coming back into civilian class... oh what tales they must speak... warrior-philosopher mentalities gravitating their egos for a perfect psychology lunch... warrior in a proxy war? dog in a kennel... KA-GA-NIEC (muzzle - chomąto - horse collar - klapki - horse blinders)... i too might have been a... co-mann-do'h... kick in the ***** when learning martial arts? and no sorry? lying in a foetal position? women do that... i heard one story that a woman killed a policeman by kicking him in the testicles... but when a man does to a 15 year old? what martial art is there to learn? well there's only one "martial art"... kick every man in the testicles... for a man to do such to another man... the art became worthless in terms of a learning credibility... even in boxing there are rules about: below the belt... ******* western teachers of eastern combat... so i chose Kant... promenade of perfected timing... orientating himself like a shy sun to each and everyday... mind you: want to lose weight? two options... bicycle or swimming... or the gym: if you want to partake in plastic surgery from the excesses of skin... but exercise is so, so ******* mundane... you'd be better off chopping a tree down or mawing the lawn.

i don't want love to guide my way,
i've seen love being prophetic
concerning man,
and fill man with extinction,
but when i've seen the other card dealing
and have it filled with fear,
i felt a wizened presence of
either my self or god, and i don't
want love to guide my way:
i want fear to guide my treading missing
hoof trot, i want fear to guide me,
whether a fear of god or a fear of loneliness,
i want fear to empower me, for fear will,
i will not ask love for slaughter on the crucifix
i will not ask love for strength when love
gives nil, i will ask fear for all my coordinate
double denial strengths,
that whatever love comes my way
fears me not, even if i should be proud to deny it,
even if i fear it, make love not my guardian
my beacon, not my lighthouse or mountain,
let my guardian and beacon be the fear of constantly
wavering waves of the seas in the ***** of a hurricane:
and my halo will then replicate your ego
concerned with love, simplified by love unfelt
by me in your ideal of love thought: best expressed
by poetics of your kept gentle knees never knelt on.
Kant represented:        0 = negation,
ergo?              1 = sanction
   binary: yes no yes no no yes yes yes no no yes...
how simple: if not beside a coin-flip?
and the man isn't even recited that often
in modern talking points...
good: that gives me a head starts...
like a tortoise being chased by an Achilles...
i appreciate the fact that he's so under-represented,
denied access to a future (reading)
of his work...
  i love the sycophancy surrounding
Nietzsche: it appears that readings of certain
works have reached a cul de sac moment
of saturation, that...
what remains? are pedagogy rubrics of
regurgitation alligned to synthesis a priori etc.,
good to know, really good to know...
but now the intellectual output is not as
important as what the intellectual output
coincides with... i.e. the lived experience
of the thinger... the asceticism that
overpowered the aesthetic...
or rather... how a life dedicated to an asceticism
bore the fruit of an intellectual aesthetic
mostly associated with Kant.
Bob B Sep 2018
A female tennis player might give
An umpire a piece of her mind
When she disagrees with him.
Consequently, she is fined

Or penalized in other ways.
However, if the player's a male,
He can spit, destroy his racket,
Yell, and viciously assail

The umpire at a tournament.
He could even resort to calling
The ump an "abortion," and little or nothing
Happens to him. Now THAT'S appalling!

A candid man might be considered
"Direct" or "outspoken." Isn't that rich?
But if you are an assertive women,
You are basically called a "*****."

A man who loudly demonstrates
At a Senate hearing in an angry fashion
Could be considered "aggressive" or even
Be called a man of "impetuous passion."

A woman, however, who interrupts
A Senate hearing with passion hears
Herself being called "hysterical" when
She's led away to Senators' sneers.

Sexism? Discrimination?
Inequality? Status quo?
It certainly appears that way.
The double standard has got to go!

-by Bob B (9-11-18)
Left Foot Poet May 2015
for Tascha

deep in the pond of unhappy, swimming,
drowning the next contemporaneous
depression thought quickly swallowed,
desperation in quick glances everywhere,
dawn is no consolation but just another
daily drawing tighter of twine cutting

dear god, commences every thought,
delayed answers have yet to arrive,
**** the deity's non-responsivness,
dare not say out loud lest,
deserved fates be worse, be realized,
didn't know? how can that be?
disguiser par excellent, I am the original

But I never think about

death or dying, for that would be
defeat finale, a statute to, a status of none, a
destiny some wick spark, still insists can be

differed always,
diffidently, but grasping yet at the
double entendre that is my
dark vision of a future already past

May 2015
may 2015, back when I could write...
Harriet Cleve Mar 2019
I was Richard the III's political double

it got me into a lot of trouble

agents came within the dark

my end was blunt and very stark

they sliced my skull and stabbed my bones

then pummelled me hard to stifle my groans

life for me was a strange osmosis

I was chosen  because of scoliosis

my hair was dark and face was mean

the closest to Richard you have ever seen

Yes, I was Richard the III's political double

it got me into a lot of trouble

my end was bleak and rather shabby

far away from Westminster abbey

to cap it all ( This ranks and needles)

I am reinterred in Leicester Cathederal

And as for Richard? I don't know

He's somewhere out there down below

I was Richard the III's political double

It got me into a lot of trouble
Krysel Anson Sep 2018
After my child woke up to mountains
turned into poisoned orange fields.
And towers howling empty through
the skeletons of proud and fearful
monsters of the Next Big Racket:

I sat down and knew things will
never be the same again
no matter how much I ate,
or whatever I wore, or where I lived.
We have died a long time ago.

Why I am still here with you is
a question only I can answer.
Everyone else has lost
after the successive attacks on
places where we used to speak freely.

Tomorrow, they say our hearing will no longer
be the same and that our children
will no longer remember us. I would have loved
to sharpen you another blade or shine another
weapon for your next trip, but there is a wider net
that has stolen my hands and the lamps
which I use to work through the Night.

I know you struggle every day and we barely
remember each other's faces, doing as we are told.
I spend time sitting down with my wounds, some of which
you blew down on me when you were too high.

One day or day one, you would say when sober.
Others remind us gently still, we were made for this.

Through all this muddy waters and chaotic mix of dung,
blood and sweat. We are lotus flowers, stardust.

In another story, a grown-up has learned to slow dance
with his lover as the world falls apart around them.
OpenWorldView Jan 2019
                     ­                            A
      Y                                            R
          ­   O                                    T
                        U ­                   S
                            R              N
                  ­E                              D
          M                     ­                 M
    E                                         ­    E
    S                                        B
      H         ­                    E
            W              C
         M                  R
    I                                    K
 ­   N                                          S
       ­        O
Our hearts are meshworks.
You and me becoming one.
zebra Aug 2018
im a self describing a self
a face on a liquid surface
a plasticity
a brain
a three pound infinity
always remodeling itself
and making new copies

a copy
a copy
a copy

a massive  accumulation of copies
each a slight distortion
from it's original eminence
a history of minute alterations
all subtle deceptions

my so-called reality
a memory
a memory
a memory
a repetition pouring the self out
self corrupting the self
until it is somebody else

a fibbing shifty double-dealing soft machine
trying to remain intact
it's signature
a disjunctured awareness

my cells talk **** about each other
i'm more microbes than human
every synaptic light of the divine casting a shadowed past
a devil to the true origin
a mangled remembering
my pillar of reality
spirit from matter
not the other way around

i no longer recognize myself
am i human
or perhaps a robot
an alien
a walk in
that left the original inhabitant
to wander perplexed in a netherworld
lost and crying

or, just a bad copy
a copy
a copy
a co





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