"efficacy" poems
‘…. and now, here’s Rick with the latest Market news…’
‘Val, trading was very brisk today, with a number of influences
that set the market off to some defined trends and statements.
Of course, the Human Virtue Exchange always seems to rely
on the volatility that resides ‘between the ears’ as noted
by the veteran brokers on the floor, but the sharp ranges
of prices offered versus profit taking has set the bar
very high in the relative value of Basic Human Virtue.
Now to the numbers: Courage [WHOME], Patience [PP],
and former market darling Perseverance [GULP],
all varied widely today on news from Washington that
their value was doomed to fall in the light of the expected growth
of Persistence [IAM] which history has shown to be a marked drag
on just about everything. Outside of the self –efficacy bazaar,
old standbys Ambition [HVY], Curiosity [WDF], Industry [HAHA] and Temperance [BFD],
continued their free fall into uncharted areas of cost and return.
Some analysts feel these virtues could be a real bargain in the future
despite their history of poor performance. Could a comeback not seen
since collapse of the Protestant Hypocrisy Era be in the works? We’ll see as the lack of movement in the Kindness-Generosity-Forgiveness-Compassion Index [FARAWAY]
leads many to believe that the end of Politeness [UPYRS],
Un-pretentiousness [ME-ME], Self Control [NWAY] and Sportsmanship [LONGONE], may lead to a complete miss-understanding between casual market players and devotees to the cause. The ratios cannot lie.
But without a doubt, today’s big winner was Self Respect [YUP]
which jumped and amazing 40 points before active trading ceased at the bell. So people feel real good about themselves for reasons
that cannot be explained by the Ego File Indicator alone; this causes this reporter to predict that Naval Gazing [MOM] remains a ‘Hot to Trot’ stock fund
and the Vanity market is always a good bet.
Now, here’s Carl with
today’s Human Emotion Exchange report……’
Mar 1, 2013
Mar 1, 2013 at 12:19 PM UTC
While they noticed the stretch of kohl in her eyes,
I could see a pacific of emotions trapped.
While they admired her blushing cheeks,
I could read the paleness she painted red.
While they were going gaga over her smirk,
I could fathom the depth of pain that debarred a hearty gale.
While they were lured by the cascade of her hair when she unscrewed the bun,
I could feel the onus of the tantrums she wanted to turf out.
While they were hypnotized by her mesmeric curves,
I was stunned by the withstanding efficacy of such a fragile body.
While they adored her attire and scarves,
I could trace the bruises she carried with poise.
While they were hung up by the glory of her face,
I could do no help but ride out at the scars she concealed with sprightliness which was the most beautiful thing my eyes could ever have a view of and it left me dazed...
And my mouth wide opened.
-Aparajita Tripathi
Jul 25, 2018
Jul 25, 2018 at 3:36 PM UTC
Whats it be to be handsome?
To have the attention of girls
and then some?
How do I measure self efficacy
when getting a smile
is still a victory?
Should I spend my money
on personal things
or have my wardrobe
bursting at the seams?
Whats the difference between
a lustful stare
and a rejectful laser beam?
Every girl can be hard to get
on welfare
"But there's still someone
for you out there"
Who can see beyond
the mirage at sea
to the core of personality.
Feb 7, 2015
Feb 7, 2015 at 1:27 AM UTC
The moon is full tonight.
I can feel it's pull.
The cat stares at me.
Her eyes seem to suggest she knows what is on my mind.
As I gaze up into the mysterious sky,
The familiar taste of salt trickles into the corners of my lips.
I can feel a tug of my emotions,
Like the moon somehow has a role in the pull of my interstitial fluid.
It is basically sea water,
Right?
The black cat loiters a certain superstition within.
Fear becomes instilled as she stares into my soul with her all knowing glare.
"Blame it on the moon, blame it on the moon.
Tides come and go, so this shall too"
I strive to find the comfort this world has to offer me
Some say it comes from within, this I am not sure of.
The thoughts linger. The cat knows, I know she knows.
What does she make of me in this incapacitated state?
I taste the salt. It is drawn out by the moon.
That is what I tell myself.
Deep down I know the salt is due to the overwhelming grief I try to deny.
And the cat is merely the internalized self stigma eating away at my self esteem and efficacy.
Dec 18, 2017
Dec 18, 2017 at 3:57 AM UTC
born underwater a ****** to the birth of creation
complacent verses bathing in lakes wasted her patience
ocean poems emotive prose the notions grow
breast strokes sowed in silly string civilized sovereignty
divinity’s reliance divided by Earth’s dire needs
fires breathe regardless of the rain she breeds
seeds beneath the sand hold no reason to lie in wake
so we speak in foreign tongues with dominance a mistake
to take her language for another world
visions died with imminence and grandiosity
a coliseum’s misconstruction catalyzed combustion’s coldest counterculture
living within the wind sinning stings it’s singularity
glaring stares impaired all sages of their clarity
careful conscious turned rotten swimming in the toxins
glossy water robs apostles of oxygen
filtered riddles fiddled this conviction’s symmetry
& now the god’s live in ignorance and misery
crimson skies abysmal cries they’re looking at the ground
astounded to the loud doubts that overpower clouds
powdered optometry devoured flowers of their solitude
another rotten petal for every sentiment left misunderstood
confused prisoners gifted with the write to think
proles sentenced to wonder why the caged bird sings
a paradox of broken thoughts to question it’s intentions
matter undermined the undefined enlightenment
spirals in the light comprise a present tense
evanescent destination sensei keep I humble
so many stripes up in my wavelengths
widowed endorphins scrape the pain away
balanced chemically an efficacy of electricity
many marvel but the master’s prophecy is destiny
Dec 1, 2013
Dec 1, 2013 at 4:13 PM UTC
what's more difficult than loving someone you knew could never love you in return?
what's more harder than keeping your feelings inside you for your friendship to sustain?
what's more painful than seeing someone you love, love another person as much as someone loves himself?
what's more farther than the distance between the two of you when you know that someone is only beside you?
how can an individual get through over this if giving up is not an option?
how can an individual stop that kind of feeling when an individual doesn't want to?
how can an individual not feel the pain when it hurts badly inside?
how can an individual escape this restlessness if that's the only thing an individual can do?
why do insecurities running over that individual?
why does someone can't return the love for an individual and left someone's present?
why can't an individual be just as happy as any person in the world?
why does someone can't see an individual through her strengths, love, and even her flaws?
when will an individual be waiting in vain?
when will someone appreciate individual's efforts?
when is the right time for an individual and someone if it exists?
when can an individual forget about every sacrifices she made for someone?
where can an individual find her own through times like this?
where can an individual get her own self-efficacy?
where on Earth will someone meet an individual for just the two of them?
where can an individual hide and cry if the world doesn't conspire her to be with someone?
who will be the involved persons that an individual may encounter during her worst?
who will be there for an individual if someone's already meant for another person?
who can mend an individual's broken heart just in case someone doesn't change his mind?
who should be the one to blame if everything goes wrong and none of you stay kind?
should an individual wait for someone to arrive knowing that someone can't not stay in another person's side?
should an individual have high hopes knowing that another person won't let her someone go to others?
should someone be at least aware of an individual's feelings for her?
should it be the right time for someone to know?
can these questions be answered by someone?
can an individual stop her feelings to have no more trouble?
are you hurting because someone has no answer to these questions?
are you dying because someone can't love an individual?
that's the reality. it hurts.
Dec 22, 2015
Dec 22, 2015 at 3:43 PM UTC
Expatriots await the nights in Kuwait
where the dingoes and dominoes and salamanders bait
the ladies in purple to their eminent doom
of sleazies and stabbings and babies in womb.
Don't get me wrong,
I enjoy a good time, if friends are around and we got a dime
or two
and a fire for the masses and we're shaking our *****
as if we are actually aware of the outcomes of our actions.
I know we haven't the slightest clue
what a Jesus Christ is, or if it hides under our beds at night
or if it was a Jew.
What's written in books can be written by crooks,
because literacy and knowledge are ******* beautiful
but can give one more confidence than the world has to share,
and the whole theory of Relative Pride falls to pieces when one has more self-efficacy than ability
and the children with their sweet little ideas and purity are not humble but fall victim to humility.
So what's in a name?
Letters, vowels, consonants and connotations
traffic tickets, family vacations
****** and protests (though not necessarily related)
teenage boys and ***** minds and those who have masturbated.
But who hasn't?
Those without names, or faces
or honesty or hands
probably have their members tied up in steel-spiked rubber bands.
I'll see you again in retox dehibilitation
and we can converse and create
while under the crutch of sedation.
May 22, 2012
May 22, 2012 at 5:46 PM UTC
and I loved it...
the efficacy,
the efficiency,
obeying, used,
the being used
to muse,
all in one word,
verbed and j'accused,
identifying the culpritess
(for my M-use is
definitively a woman),
I say:
Please baby,
Please bossy,
Please sir,
muse me some more?
M-use me, use-me,
accuse-me, heck,
abuse-me,
my tongue, my lips,
(especially, my lips)
your devoted
poet-servant.
give me spiel,
words to make
them laugh,
groan and squeal,
do me baby,
one mo' time,
the big reveal.
you know I am
exclusive to you,
others get my body,
but only you
get my
my poetic
streams of screams
things I can
never confess,
peeve but at the hinted
whisper of them,
things that weaken me,
in the places
where poems
umbilically
die stillborn,
the chord
connecting
just us two,
it, that chord,
wrapped round
my throat
choking off
my special voice,
cause you want
just those words,
My Muse,
all for yourself
and I can't say no
to
My Muse,
My Conscience
Mar 18, 2014
Mar 18, 2014 at 10:24 PM UTC
your silent plight begets silent nights
the inaudible whispers haunt us in daunting hollows
insalubrious fervor beseeches thy name
forlorn and lost among creeping doubt
guilt holding refrain from calling to any such fate
with second guess casts shame on second nature
innate profundity loses meaning with time
but all that's known is all that can be
tangible efforts get lost in the shadow of dissonance
my body resonates with such reeling efficacy
empathy goes unheard but your tone still sings truth
such sweetness lost to empty promise reigns defeat and pain
my silent nights beget silent strife
Sep 3, 2018
Sep 3, 2018 at 8:20 PM UTC
Mountebanks and madmen
And marvelous maidens
Populate and pollute politics
Which joss sticks cannot chase
Or alleviate the electorate
In its counter clockwise swirl
Down its own bathroom drain.
Only morals don’t ameliorate
It only exacerbates, enervates
Rather than eliminates the pain.
The pain is felt by franklins,
Never the nobles or magnates;
They go on and make play dates
With other multi-billionaires
In debonair pied-a-terre lofts
And scoff at the peasantry
While exchanging pleasantries
Over gold-laced desserts
Thinking nobody gets hurt
If they pilfer and pillage
Far off village and town
Tearing down and razing,
With life grazing scorched earth.
To the rich, nobody has worth;
Voices that implore are muted
And garbage-chuted in the press.
Nothing to confess, the smile;
A mile of porcelainized teeth
Made more intense by pretense
That importance is impotence
In the face of extreme wealth
When stealth cease efficacy
And delicacy isn’t required.
The moral judge is fired.
A new wife is squired
In hopes a son is sired
To take over the empire.
Mar 20, 2016
Mar 20, 2016 at 5:39 AM UTC
The dragon saw me fly
Spread my wings in valour
Zipping across, beyond
Hoovering within and out
The bold red blood pumped
Showered zest and credence
Saw the springboard of the skies
Dreamt inside the beguiling clouds
Slept peacefully in a paradise
Forgot to guard from the fangs
******* in ripples of venoms
Gullible in the darkened scenes
Kidnapped and handcuffed on pillars
Chained in the unmoving conflicts
The chaotic shadowy cave stares
Dares to throw me in the deep pits
Fear is the only paralysis to fare
The pearls so outdated in efficacy
The bark of a feisty fighter diminishes
Love for humanity is the only key
Mar 27, 2016
Mar 27, 2016 at 7:43 PM UTC
~For Pradip~
*who reminded me:
We are all God’s Trial & Errors*
tender is the tendency,
so finitely human,
infinitely foolish,
to overlook the
obvious,
let us not delve into our
particular peculiar idiosyncratic knots
in our hair and personalities,
all natural,
inherited or ill begotten
in voyages to far away,
like our childhood
***Thus,
we are all mistakes of a sort***
with natural fault lines,
accumulated dings, scapes, bruises,
furrowed crinkles that took us
years to perfect
We are flawed like diamonds,
valued by these natural flaws
by graders with loups who uncover
our flaunts, our clear air bubbles,
the more flaws the better,
because these attributes make us
most interesting!
you may be blonde,
you may be exotic
perhaps a lovely shade of
iridescence,
but lucky you whose scars speak
out and others wonder why,
they are so interesting
let us design a large animal,
seemingly ungainly, yet keystone to
their environment, so others may
profit thereby,
yet insanely quick on lumbering feet,
no hands, fingers, but a long snakey thinge
that multiple functions for
breathing, drinking, feeding grabbing, smelling and
trumpeting their presence
to foolish beings in their neighborhood
let’s us not debate
whose design is
an efficacy par excellence
so we be
ungainly, too tall, too
this or that,
even too flawless,
a specialized curse of sorts,
we are the product of
a sophisticated design laboratory
that makes many models,
each variegated, always different
so get down on your knees *********
and praise the design engineers
who created you to be
full of
& by elephantine trials and elephantine errors,
thereby making
us each,
a special pronoun,
an I
blessed
by definition:
though not in any dictionary:
unique,
flawless!
**
**^you are the most
flawless poem
you have ever written
and will ever ever
write***
Dec 7, 2024
Dec 7, 2024 at 3:59 PM UTC
**Maybe this is our opportunity to finally see change
we've endured a system archaic and strange
we've watched the world revolve quicker than us
because we are stranded while the rest shift on the wheels of revolution
maybe this is the time you made that resolution
to constantly remind your brother and sister
Father and mother that that position needs a new sitter
maybe this is the time to say enough is enough
however much it instills in you fear, however tough
maybe it's the time we finally say to hell with the past
because like they say to stone nothing is cast**
*and the only thing that doesn't change is change itself
otherwise for how long will one old man exploit our insecurities?
For how long are they going to tell us that change is unsafe
A different time a different king even the monarchs say
what are we saying in our deafening silence today?
maybe this is the time to tell even the most ignorant by the country mile
that only and only a different king will dry their tears and give them a smile
we've been told he's the only man with foresight
come on,how are we to judge the rest without chances
for so long change has been a distant vibration along the threads of time
and opposition to conservatism a crime
maybe it's time for that to change too
and guess who can do that, only me and you*
**maybe it's time to flip the page for this great country to start another chapter
And it doesn't have to be all smooth a flow to happily ever after
Let other dancers step to the podium
and only then can we judge their dances
maybe it's time to another hunter we handed the arrow and bow
maybe now is the time for a different color on the rainbow
It cannot forever be a constant yellow
for even God saw however beautiful they look
the skies shouldn't always bear a sparkling mellow
sometimes the sky is cloudy, orange and most times blue
maybe it's time like I clearly think from my own view
for as a generation we are being denied the opportunity of comparative history**
*what will we tell our children happened to democracy
where did we throw, they'll ask all the resilience and efficacy?
maybe it's time to get back our country from the liberators
who use the same cuffs of the past regimes to manacle this country
and have since grown tall and firmer than palm tree
we have watched them wallow and buzz for so long
but for an idea whose time has come nothing is that strong*
**maybe it's time to save the embezzled donations and every single grant
a time to say confidently "to Hell with the tyrant"
maybe it's a time to be the change we want, the answer to all of our questions
and shove those that think we can't
maybe it's time to go past the roughing waves of conservatism as they whirl
maybe it's time to save our lovely nation
for at the moment, in very wrong hands lies the Pearl.**
Jan 29, 2016
Jan 29, 2016 at 3:20 AM UTC
A failure to measure in self efficacy
the lion drags its mane
to sweep the floor so hopelessly
in an effort to hide its shame.
The quagmire consumes the wicked
but devours the righteous all the same
down in a hollow, sick, twisted
giving in to the weight of pain.
The gravity of this grief
plants us firmly in the grip of apathy
pray the despair be brief
delirious, at the hands of atrophy.
At the bottom of the well
is a gate unto immutable madness
endure this path through hell
and emerge from the infinite sadness.
Alone in what was won
Resist the call of a stepfather to son:
to my kingdom, come.
Apr 21, 2014
Apr 21, 2014 at 4:46 PM UTC
Note to self
Stop writing poetry for members of the opposite ***
In a crude attempt for ****
The efficacy is still up for debate
and you're left with a beautiful creation that memories generated are absofuckinglutely hated
Like that foul mouthed gingerkid from pre-school
COME HERE YOU LITTLE ******* SO I CAN BEAT YOU WITH MY SHOE ************
YOU DON'T KNOW ABOUT THE WOODEN SPOON
I'LL SWALLOW YOUR SOUL!
I'LL SWALLOW YOUR SOUL!
BOW BEFORE MY MINISTRY OF DARKNESS ALL YOU DESTESTABLE *****
this is my deconstructed distraction from reality destruction from abstraction
wherefore art thou sanity
ADD
Cry/ Get baked/ Ooh shiny/ ********** Dyslexia/HAIL SATAN/
HEIL SANtA
Nov 18, 2013
Nov 18, 2013 at 4:11 AM UTC
From atop mountains
Of debt
We tumble, like
The thrill of defeat
Dripping down
The quivering chin
Of blood-stained
America.
To quote a thunderstorm:
"All who question
The efficacy
Of God
Shall crumble
To an infinity
Of indecencies."
To quote a God:
"All who fall
Have not
Been pushed,
Those who rose
Were not all
Pulled.
**** the heathens.
Justified are those
Who avenge the treasons
Committed unto me."
Waves of
Iridescence
Cleanse our pallettes,
And we open wide
For the next forkful
Of fermented
Excrement.
Bloodied are our knees
As we receive
The sacrement,
Trapped like rats
Cast in cement.
To quote a slave:
"Bound by prior
Engagements,
Sacrificed to
Advertisement,
The seeds of men
Wither in the soil.
Blood weeps
From poisoned skies
While YES WE CAN
Opens eyes,
And seals fate
Within fine
Print."
Wolves in
Cheap disguises
Bate their breath
Behind red grins
And finalize
The list of
Who gets in,
While in the cold
Stand the masses,
Marinating
In their own
Molasses.
From atop Parnassus,
A silver-lined horse
Watches the madness,
And snarls and spits
In shamed defiance,
While Apollo
Holds court
To form the alliance
That will interrupt
The defiling of man.
To quote a soldier:
"Cold is the mud
That cradles
The valiant.
Swift is decay
In these
Transient days,
Where passive
Observers rot
In mass graves."
Designed by the rich,
Assembled by slaves,
Our system
Keeps churning,
Rejecting all
Who misbehave.
Reflected in
Concentric waves,
The faces of children
Contemplate age,
And what it means
To be forever
Enraged,
Engaged in endeavors
That are only dreams.
They can't be saved,
And neither can we.
So it seems,
And so it should be.
Jan 4, 2013
Jan 4, 2013 at 10:25 PM UTC
the horse rummages on the track
and the victory is owned by the ****
soon sleep will engulf my body
like the oblivious quietude of Aokigahara-jukai.
things and their semblance of utmost care.
light begins to burst
and there is little left to see,
wide-eyed, crunched by the efficacy of aches.
taking all to the very heart of hurt
as gamblers wager,
and coming back with the sound of completeness:
a man is a man in his chronology of defeat -
left torn by madness,
a cornered beast pressed against the woods.
the moon plays its lyre, white-washed,
sound wading in the very source of quiet,
hauled out of the Sun, its mother.
this hound stalks the world
with woebegone legs, a reflection of the entire world fractured
by a singular shot at the end.
i hear the guttural snarl of engine
unwavering in its limitations. say, at first light, all exists to paint darkness quicker
than any obfuscated conclusion -- hiding in
itself, its mood for squalors.
the mud dug deep for bones
pared from the slaughter of midnight,
hiding them to mask my defeat:
everything around me sparkles with
the vigor of frailty, all the same.
the nights are too long, scarce as froth
from an opened mouth left flat,
a dry gin bottle.
i imagine sad armies dissolving in pale moonlight, and crosses thumbed down to the snaking hiss of its nondescript prayer.
gears gnash like teeth in anger
of you in your young clothes, the pace of cars
hurrying back to homes.
i remember the splintered wood burning
the last in the round kiln of the Red Lion.
the upholstery of night is the twilight's
catharsis. the coast of dread widens like
the vernal metamorphosis of a young ********** in Gibraltar,
come in, come in with undecided ******
you can hear the fall coalesce with the levitation of ember, landing like feet blunt
on the asphalt beside desolate bicycles
in seedy parks.
the surreal tabulation of analogue repetitions:
death's myriad, in all corners screaming
the countenance rebel, against the floored masses.
Feb 26, 2016
Feb 26, 2016 at 7:55 AM UTC
a shell, a rock, valueless
token of exchange
Cain's creation, perhaps,
impelled by hunger and his mark
today a non attributable lie
a picture of true faith
- but the sword still stands -
speaks more truth than any word can
deeper its insidious roots grow
for the greater its seeming efficacy
displacing the currency of love
for my enemies love me as themselves
but the lie is true
gnawing from the inside out
from nations, to businesses, to people,
a soulless heartless ********** remains
by the sword you live, by the sword you die
Jul 9, 2019
Jul 9, 2019 at 11:19 PM UTC
I wish to be a single unit.
I want all of my body to contain my
vibrancy
I do not want to feel restrained by
my anxieties.
This unit will work together
a full microbiome
a complete structure
good-enough in nature
keeping you alive.
self-efficacy,
a concept I'd love to measure.
blood levels, stress worksheets, therapist visits,
drugs, anti-depressants, side effects
things i can measure.
Biology,I get it,
but intrapersonal connections?
Apr 26, 2017
Apr 26, 2017 at 2:55 AM UTC
10,000
early morning muses
but sometimes late at night
he brings enough sun
to make 1000 poems look easy
he is the leaven to our loaves and
the tequila to our margaritas
positively
positive he works through
the dark of night
to bring us light
and for the full effect
of his efficacy
drink dark coffee
first
then
sufficiently caffeinated
awakened and ready
to read
put in the work
to discover the words
his encouraging words of life
and maybe you’ll burn to earn
a bonus of how to survive
so very little sleep
for me
personally
its more about
the lines between the lines
than those not spoken at all
or written at all
rather realized
if I were to
focus on others
half as much as he
then maybe my life
would be less miserably
my own
more jokes than yokes
and less wails to no avails
no non-satiated regrets
or cratered frustration
rather
peace in a storm of senility
he writes for us all
with a message of hope
like the god of HP he sees
we are radiating rays
positivity pointed
one and all and
all together at
the same time
toward heaven
he moves freely
amongst our home page
from whence did he come?
from the fourth dimension
he brings forth conjuration
his style is love
his style is hope
his style is empathy
his style is encouragement
his style is truly who he is
he is an early morning beacon
bewildering
he comes from the east
to rise across our browsers
seeking the infection of discovery
in each hissy fit writ
we write
Sep 7, 2017
Sep 7, 2017 at 12:24 AM UTC
Kiss of destiny,
a zodiac efficacy;
for you and me?
Our paradoxical universes collide tonight
and when the stars align, all is right.
We'll get lost in our dreams
and walk the path of eternity.
Can you see it?
The hills and valleys;
with shadows in between.
This clock has been ticking ever-so slowly
can you hear it unwind tonight?
Like the threads of time that for so long have been pulling us apart.
I hope you see it too.
Come get lost in my eyes,
read my mind,
and dive through the great divide.
Mar 28, 2013
Mar 28, 2013 at 10:43 AM UTC
*occurring slowly, imperceptibly
efficacy being subtly reduced
no longer radiating as it once had
decaying in all that matters
life awaiting reconception
metamorphosis to wholeness
but transition is rarely painless
its passage dark and damp
anxious waking in predawn gloom
curled within the womb of familiar
under a fraying comforter of security
worn even too thin for reality veiling
cutting the cord to the past is crucial
mindfully maintaining nurturing ties
a healthy present breathes its own air
into a future released from half-life*
Sep 1, 2014
Sep 1, 2014 at 11:31 AM UTC
She was accused of
Many unstable unsatisfactory emotions
All of which amalgamated her hurricane soul
That so breathlessly changed pace
With every maleficent or peaceful encounter
That fed the storm of her pith
A hollow quintessential girl
Hidden beneath eyes of tragic twinkle and
An amorphous disposition
That so whispered her visceral uncertainty
With which
She placed her demons in plethora
Upon all who obstreperously disturbed
The susurration of her own self-cataclysm
This decrepit distorted typhoon
Of the thundering lullaby she once embraced
Dissatisfied with the resonant rhapsodic scintilla
She so carelessly went from sonorous to somnolent
Once her nature echoed a sanguineous symphony
Of intimate honesty’s to now
Only as discreetly murmur callous contempt
Until this once magnificent hurricane soul
Did crumble like the walls her efficacy once
Tore down to whimper into the dust that is
Now her soul’s riven zephyr.
Mar 18, 2014
Mar 18, 2014 at 12:29 PM UTC
*I've
Waited. I've loved - lost;
No efficacy. Viens enslave, remembering
Faith and lust. Look,
I, named
Lone, own vain ends.*
Feb 6, 2014
Feb 6, 2014 at 1:29 AM UTC
August the month,
I hate you with passion,
You are the most sad month,
You often impeach manly happiness,
With abnormal efficacy of fate’s power,
Your vice and evil ploys borrows a lot ,
From the throne of thy name’s selfish cradle,
Dumb-founding Fetish of the Roman self ,
Though you gave me chance to visit the earth,
But in crude culture circumcissionally agonized
I hate you august for the demise of great lives,
You have swallowed to remove a living realm,
In the un-couth ways of cruelty on horn of fate,
You ate Ceaser , Cleopatra and Catholic Paul john II,
I now caution and warn you to stop your evil ways,
For the two fortnights you will be around wi’ us
Don’t scuttle man’s peace whatsoever possible,
Aug 4, 2015
Aug 4, 2015 at 7:23 AM UTC