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"dred" poems
Across the street. Opposite direction; Conceit paved with concrete. Flashback perception. Across the street. Anxiety and nicotine Piercings and red hair Cigarette guillotine. One dred behind your ear. Anxiety and nicotine Strawberry blonde Curly or locked? Wizard's wand spawned levitation Air blocked. Strawberry blonde.
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Apr 19, 2013
Apr 19, 2013 at 3:00 PM UTC
I saw you
Tired of the torment and distruction, Countless sleepless nights, filled with worry and dred. Home is your shelter where one goes to find refuge, Shouldn't it be? Tip toe from room to room, Finding solitude amongst isolation. Try to build a safe haven. **** you for tearing it down, trying to break down these walls that took me my life to build. You, You're nothing, worthless, I almost pitty you but that would mean you're worthy of my thoughts. Hate you? I don't. Despise you? I don't. You hold nothing over me, apart from the one I fear for. How dear you break her and tear her down, You will never amount to be even half of who she is. Justice will be served on a silver platter, You won't see it coming, I hope then you'll live in fear. And I'll be able to sleep through the night.
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Oct 17, 2013
Oct 17, 2013 at 11:34 PM UTC
Goat
They talk of the power dred has over beauty They never seem to mention the clouds They talk of the fire, the death, and the fury But never of songs or sounds Thy talk of the battles they've lost against evil They talk of their fallen companions I will talk of the ocean and stars And all of the comforts that command them
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Apr 11, 2015
Apr 11, 2015 at 12:40 AM UTC
The Burden Of A Soldier
Stuck behind the eyes of a child feeling like a phone, undialed a text unread something else to dred stuck behind the smile of a loner feeling the vibe of a stoner **** wrapped up sippin' ***** from a lil' cup stuck behind the heart of the broken feeling like an unused token lever totally unpulled machines heart redulled stuck behind the life of me feeling like a failure to what I must be heart reshattered like I ever even mattered...
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May 7, 2010
May 7, 2010 at 1:35 PM UTC
In Someone Else's Shoes
When Michael Collins came, first from the courts of England, which in low and lofty Londoun lately were helde, while Thames there with treachery and treasoun did truly ring, was Ireland ill split and beset with ignoble stryfe.   Yet there a land lately formed was, where still folk lyve on mydllerde. Though it is not in this warlike time of Dev that we our tale do set, after these tymes of troubling stryfe, contentioun salted still the land. Fine Fail and Fine Gael, then foes many yeres remained till noblest amongst them, in qualities none lacking, did do battle in old Dublin and vanquish the dred enemy.   That mon who dreded nought, nightly then held his court in fair Dail Eirinn.   Enda was called that man, and everysince has his noble courte endured.   There, as Chrystmasse came, was assembled his cabinet fayre: there Sir Wilmore the red, who waited on the grete lorde in readiness.   There with grete courtesey, the kings coins to keep, sat Sir Noonan the balde.   There Sir Reilly, learned in lore of leach and herb, who on erde had little left to lerne.   Eek Sir Varadkar the gaye who granted was, the grete kinges horses to groome.   Laste, the lovely layde Burton, who, the rede rose of Wilmore would long after carry.   Other knyghtes numerous were there, but of these now, nought will I tell, for fallen to feasting were this fayre companye al and fayne would I not, in tedious trials of descriptioun, your patience for to trye.
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Feb 6, 2015
Feb 6, 2015 at 2:59 PM UTC
The Tale of Sir Enda, prologue
Lippy Dippy the hippie, Always so much to say. Protesting, picketing Never quite gets his way. So much about us The world and how it runs. Someone to carry a sign? Lippy Dippy is the one. He started out with war Calling out President LBJ. The issues kept happening Up to and including today. Lippy and his hippie cohorts Protested for human rights Whether it be about gays Or brown, black or white. Get him and friends arrested? That just may have to be As long as law and lawyers Practice their legal infamy. He reminds of Dred Scott And how the law of the land Immorally took the freedom And dignity of that poor man. Too little water here Too much water over there? Veterans getting gypped? See if anybody ever cares. Lippy Dippy and friends Will gladly show up at your place And show you what you are; Bad example of the human race. Oh, they made fun of him They called him many names Including Dippy, so unkind But it gave him a kind of fame. It would be nice if maybe someday There were no need for him. Unless things change someway The hope of that is very dim. So, he and others like him Which will, of course, include me With stand up and protest As long as we citizens are free To gather publically and say This sort of situation is wrong, Then Lippy Dippy and the rest Will come sing our protest songs.
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Oct 16, 2015
Oct 16, 2015 at 10:14 PM UTC
LIPPY DIPPY THE HIPPIE
How do we sin what's the code its written in? How to decode and how to judge? Does god only speak through you, my love? I only wonder who will read me my rights one day? Why do I answer to you today? If the final daylight is finally here. Don't break my faith. It isn't you I fear. Bullets bounce inside my skull. The echoing takes its toll. The voices so filled with Dred. You don't choses the life I've lead. Only god can judge the dead.
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Mar 17, 2015
Mar 17, 2015 at 8:05 PM UTC
decode
It’s a firework holiday, so let’s light up the night, wave the stars and stripes, eat barbecue and drink bud light. We’ll celebrate the liberties that SCOTUS says we’ve got it appears they’ve all been bought and before their terms are over they’ll resurrect Dred Scott. Watermelon, hot wings we’ve even added new things, like smash & grab lootings and frequent, random shootings. Some Republicans want to break away to form a less perfect union can you form a successful nation based on the politics of illusion? There used to be parades I’m told, that featured local things, like firefighting brigades I guess we’re just to fractured now, to sashay in such displays. I bet those were the days.
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Jul 4, 2023
Jul 4, 2023 at 12:21 PM UTC
the 4th
I wonder what it will be like when I am old and grey It seems so distant and yet I know it's not that far away Will my children love me still will they think I served them well Will they treasure the childhood I gave to them Or feel it was pure hell Will they lock me in a nursing home and let me die alone Will I spend each early night sitting by a silent phone Is it possible my biggest thrill will be a doctor's visit I dred these thoughts and yet they come to haunt me I hope that life is good and sweet I know I have but one chance There is no big repeat I hope I will leave the world a little bit sweeter I hope I can stay balenced and not end in a teeder
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Jul 17, 2010
Jul 17, 2010 at 7:33 PM UTC
Dread
holding the balance, my heart is green...never will i be dishonest or unseen. my blood & my being are both in the colour of red, just like that of the arch angel we both dred. I have & enjoy my open communication with you..... so, i speak my words intently right out of the blue. I go with my gut pulling from yellow.....for i know that i am a kind and decent fellow. The spark is orange that gives all its life...i bring it in to sight with loving voilet, NOT with the vision of a haters knife. Indigo is the place where it all comes in....and is weaved into form with the creators manifesting pin.
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Dec 5, 2011
Dec 5, 2011 at 7:55 PM UTC
Balance
I see her innocent eyes used and abused, accused of such sinister lies. The pastor, her master, mother, brother, father all force her to hide, with none to confide and lack of sight in her mind. I find we don't love the ones we call close. Posted up on the block, learning to hold her own, sown into her life the semetry feeling that this world is her enemy. Anything to take money and make something of herself. 3 reflected mirrors at home reflecting an image to be up held. Visions of a world of wealth, blinded by the wise men intending to leave her corrupt. It's ****** up, n it ***** but who really give a **** till they're stuck in the same situation? Pacing through life clueless we might just make it out alive. As she Strives for a future she wakes up to a doctor and several sutures. Beat down again to the sound of her own head. Bled for prayers so God wouldnt dred her favors. She never really accepted the trueth that made her. Insisting proof, or a fool to be called a believer. If only you knew that all things were meant to decieve you. When the son rises the light starts shining to find her. What you raised is offering and one day he will help end your suffering for all your strugglig.
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Aug 29, 2013
Aug 29, 2013 at 2:37 PM UTC
Innocent Eyes
"How are you?" "I am fine." "How are you?" "I am fine." "How are you?" And it goes on and on and on, This courteous game no one invests in Half-glances sliding over you Catalouging your state briefly before Moving onto something else The unspoken rules of this game dictate That you keep to routine. How are yous and I am fines, Never change Never stop. Never, ever, change. It does not matter If these are not truths It does not matter If you feel like your skin is bursting And your head is exploding And your heart is shrieking And your blood is singing. They must ask How are yous And you must say, I am fines "I am-" But. I am not. I am not fine you want to scream and shout You have not been fine since last year the year you discovered that you don’t matter you are only worth the As in your report book. The teacher’s assessment of you is unfair yet true and you are never anything less than troubled. Red becomes the colour you see behind your eyelids in the dark and in the day When the red stands out and even if it doesn’t because that’s all. You. Can. Think. About. It is the colour under the skin of your thighs when you slap too hard It is the colour that spills over the skin of your forearms where you hide the cuts under sleeves You are falling falling a dizzy mess No one but you will taint this metaphorical white dress. You dig in your work. You solve math problem after math problem and buy new highlighters to line the pages of your Biology textbook and you pay attention in History class even though your friend elbows you in the ribs to get your attention to show off her latest doodle. But still red redred red red red redred dred ered red red is all you can think about, you don’t like the colour but now you just might. it keeps you sane. After class when no one paid attention and everyone disrupted it you ran to the bathroom to create more so. You tell your friends and they look at you sadly but forget later. It takes you months of not eating properly and starving yourself of sentiment before you realize you are too young to be jaded. Other, better friends (though it is no fault of your older ones) pull you through. You learn to like simple things again. You throw yourself in articles and articles of the feminist movement and watch that new TV show and make more friends that loosen you up and make you laugh and dance. You take pictures and create memories again. You live a little more again. You are making progress. "-fine."
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Sep 24, 2013
Sep 24, 2013 at 8:14 AM UTC
Untitled
"How are you?" "I am fine." "How are you?" "I am fine." "How are you?" And it goes on and on and on, This courteous game no one invests in Half-glances sliding over you Catalouging your state briefly before Moving onto something else The unspoken rules of this game dictate That you keep to routine. How are yous and I am fines, Never change Never stop. Never, ever, change. It does not matter If these are not truths It does not matter If you feel like your skin is bursting And your head is exploding And your heart is shrieking And your blood is singing. They must ask How are yous And you must say, I am fines "I am-" But. I am not. I am not fine you want to scream and shout You have not been fine since last year the year you discovered that you don’t matter you are only worth the As in your report book. The teacher’s assessment of you is unfair yet true and you are never anything less than troubled. Red becomes the colour you see behind your eyelids in the dark and in the day When the red stands out and even if it doesn’t because that’s all. You. Can. Think. About. It is the colour under the skin of your thighs when you slap too hard It is the colour that spills over the skin of your forearms where you hide the cuts under sleeves You are falling falling a dizzy mess No one but you will taint this metaphorical white dress. You dig in your work. You solve math problem after math problem and buy new highlighters to line the pages of your Biology textbook and you pay attention in History class even though your friend elbows you in the ribs to get your attention to show off her latest doodle. But still red redred red red red redred dred ered red red is all you can think about, you don’t like the colour but now you just might. it keeps you sane. After class when no one paid attention and everyone disrupted it you ran to the bathroom to create more so. You tell your friends and they look at you sadly but forget later. It takes you months of not eating properly and starving yourself of sentiment before you realize you are too young to be jaded. Other, better friends (though it is no fault of your older ones) pull you through. You learn to like simple things again. You throw yourself in articles and articles of the feminist movement and watch that new TV show and make more friends that loosen you up and make you laugh and dance. You take pictures and create memories again. You live a little more again. You are making progress. "-fine."
Continue reading...
30
Your soul is far more beautiful than mine, You've got more miles on your heart, This must be fate, I'm so very lucky to have met you at this time. You're too honest for this world, And to I; you're too kind, Don't fight back against the facts, It seems as though you don't follow the most traveled path, But there is nothing you lack, And if you'll let me; I promise to always have your back. And like the rain that comes down every now and then, Emotions I did not know I could feel flood my head, It's no wonder I can't sleep through the night alone in this bed, And when in the morning I leave, tis the very time of day that I dred. I crave your body like a bloodthirsty wolf, And I'll accept this new found hunger; my judgement it will engulf, But this broken heart of mine would be much too difficult to mend, And this wavering depression is a bit to high maintenance to tend, My baggage is ample, And I learned long ago that to feel happy; I no longer can pretend. So if you're feeling up to the task, Inspired to see what's behind this mask, The payout is well worth it, In my bountiful love you may bask.
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May 23, 2014
May 23, 2014 at 6:34 AM UTC
true beauty
Its not my fault that I'm awesome but was made that way According to God you might have doubts believing that its true But He made each one of us awesome too Don't you know that you're awesome just let positive thoughts take Flight look in the mirror and repeat these words over yourself Both day and night and fight for what you believe Because with no fight you will never receive Just say that you're awesome waking up or when going to bed Cast out of the mind the nasty and untrue things Others have spoken and said let your awesome take over each day And never live another moment of dred
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Sep 21, 2014
Sep 21, 2014 at 11:28 PM UTC
YOUR AWESOME BY VICTOR TRIPP
By: Cedric McClester Long live Scalia Now that he’s dead A Supreme Court Justice Who’s gone on ahead Though I disagreed With the decisions I’ve read Just for the moment Let me put them to bed I take pause Before starting to vet The country owes him A hell of a debt He served with distinction And made many upset Now is the time To forgive and forget What can I say That hasn’t been said Now that the man Is clearly dead Certainly not That he made me see red Because of his decisions That I learned to dred Some see his death As Divine Intervention One less conservative For me to make mention We’ve lost the bane Of the Court’s dissention And he didn’t go out Receiving a pension Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2016. All rights reserved.
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Feb 13, 2016
Feb 13, 2016 at 10:06 PM UTC
LONG LIVE SCALIA
Blue-green pools of dred, Sandy quick of eyes' undertow,   .  .  .  In over my head.
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Jan 20, 2013
Jan 20, 2013 at 12:41 AM UTC
Haiku (maelstrom)
You, You're The reason this nonstop voice is always yelling. Always screaming to get out. Never silent, never happy with anything. Everlasting sorrow and despair. Enraged with the lack of life. Ripping the soul out of my being, tearing my brain and molecules to bits and pieces. Never content with where your at, stop doing this to me. Stop thinking about every single bad thing there is to possibly think about. Making me dred every wake up and every sleep. The awful thoughts of everything all at once, all the time.
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Nov 16, 2024
Nov 16, 2024 at 3:40 AM UTC
In my head.
I kept telling myself the same things over and over again in my head Told myself to stay strong To not shed a tear And to continue to laugh But when he said that he's okay with it and that it didn't really matter I did break I broke Although, in that moment I did stay strong I didn't shed a tear in his presence And I laughed at his way of telling the story behind the casino on the cruise I dred looking back at photo's of him Because it will never be again The only man who I've ever called 'daddy' Just he who heard that word come out of my mouth He, had his last Christmas And we have spent it together
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Jan 11, 2016
Jan 11, 2016 at 7:37 PM UTC
Last Christmas
Six thousand five *** dred and twenty nine days I Have lived on this sphere.
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Jan 1, 2016
Jan 1, 2016 at 7:59 PM UTC
A Fresh Orbit
Hold me down Pull me Grab my hair Rip it out and throw me to the ground Fists held in stasis Slow Timeless Viscous Weightless Connect with soft faces I remember it passing me by in silence Like an old black and white movie Flashes of stills Each a captured moment frozen BANG That’s what sound sounds like to silence Loud red der loud der louder. The sound of stillness speaking up. Speeding up. Black and white becomes colour and I’m left with a taste of red on my lips red dripping on your hands red the passion you have to hurt red like a leaf red under a magnifying glass red staring at a specimen red see red sea red she’s red me red peace of red red der redder redderederederederederederederredred dred. Loudereder loudredred Loud. Red. Dred.
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May 25, 2018
May 25, 2018 at 8:13 PM UTC
Loudredred
after a long day of witnessing sweet high school relationships and fat teddy bears and chocolate roses better go get myself some carnations and let it sit in some water with black food coloring and let the beauty unfold. // the longevity of our love is perpetual that’s what it said on the card she never received at least..
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Feb 14, 2018
Feb 14, 2018 at 3:51 PM UTC
dred roses//saints
I remember holding your cold fingers. The feeling of your cold flesh Touching mine Left my body soulless I was still holding on Being without a soul didn't matter As long as I was holding you I now long for that feeling of your cold skin grazing mine. In that moment I was closer Now i’m hours Days Months Away from you My core is rotten I’m overflowing with anxiety and fear In that rotten core of mine There is a thick and toxic dosage of dred Anger Insecurity Let me join you
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Nov 26, 2018
Nov 26, 2018 at 4:34 PM UTC
Holding on