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"egregiously" poems
**I tread to keep my head Just above the water; But find myself floating away ~ While others were sinking or swimming down yonder, I ponder, though my thoughts betray The reality that I perceive Which may, or may not be as limiting Of that which you can conceive, Or can see much stronger I no longer bother; It’s deceiving so I castaway, And leave myself astray in the fray / Blottering• To alter my relief of mindscape and believe, there’ll better days, beyond what I face Cremate my remains in the ashtray someday Energy never ceases to exist It perpetually permeates the cosmic collective consciousness Wherever my soul will occupy the confines in space Of the vibrations that happen to solidify my base And give me just the slightest trace, that I’m phasing amidst these in-between places I feel as though I am an imposter - Egregiously living a grievous dream, of which I have conjured; That I am lost, and therefore cannot prosper Because I harbor improper resentment, that I will foster until my departure This fractal picture of the macrocosm only grows larger, but from farther away; As it becomes harder to map the realms of territories unchartered in my escape I try to attain, but only falter in vain To discover what the universe truly contains And convey that in words to paint mental frames/ Maybe it’s strange but one must think outside the constraints It may sound absurd but please keep up the pace Spiritual enlightenment for real is the surreal end-game in which we all play chase replacing Incarcerated rocks to be polished, in this giant machine Perpetually incarnating A shining spirit until that’s all that remains Once every imperfection Is completely erased When the correct particles have been finally arranged & Nirvana has since become fully sustained Can I truly be One with my Self- And not just a product of fate**
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Sep 4, 2019
Sep 4, 2019 at 6:01 AM UTC
De•per•son•al•iz•a•tion
**I tread to keep my head Just above the water; But find myself floating away ~ While others were sinking or swimming down yonder, I ponder, though my thoughts betray The reality that I perceive Which may, or may not be as limiting Of that which you can conceive, Or can see much stronger I no longer bother; It’s deceiving so I castaway, And leave myself astray in the fray / Blottering• To alter my relief of mindscape and believe, there’ll better days, beyond what I face Cremate my remains in the ashtray someday Energy never ceases to exist It perpetually permeates the cosmic collective consciousness Wherever my soul will occupy the confines in space Of the vibrations that happen to solidify my base And give me just the slightest trace, that I’m phasing amidst these in-between places I feel as though I am an imposter - Egregiously living a grievous dream, of which I have conjured; That I am lost, and therefore cannot prosper Because I harbor improper resentment, that I will foster until my departure This fractal picture of the macrocosm only grows larger, but from farther away; As it becomes harder to map the realms of territories unchartered in my escape I try to attain, but only falter in vain To discover what the universe truly contains And convey that in words to paint mental frames/ Maybe it’s strange but one must think outside the constraints It may sound absurd but please keep up the pace Spiritual enlightenment for real is the surreal end-game in which we all play chase replacing Incarcerated rocks to be polished, in this giant machine Perpetually incarnating A shining spirit until that’s all that remains Once every imperfection Is completely erased When the correct particles have been finally arranged & Nirvana has since become fully sustained Can I truly be One with my Self- And not just a product of fate**
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65
Yet another in my "Barry Hodges" series O what a beautiful city is baroque and unspoiled Vilnius, A veritable rose in the greyness of Eastern Europe, And a centre of fierce Lithuanian pride and nationalism Where loathing of Russia comes as part of the national tapestry, Woven into the heart and soul of each true descendant of Gediminas: "Tik geras rusų yra miręs rusų!"[note 1] my Litvak lady love would cry out In moments of extreme and poetic ******** excitement, As she farted tunefully through purple quilted haemorrhoids. O dearest delightful Vilnius, where my obsessive adoration Of this rather plump but still juicy middle-aged lady Went unrequited when she was sober, despite the perpetual onslaught Of my tenderly whispered syllables of love and lust, Even when my mispronounced tirade of affirmations of desire Rose to a pointless crescendo, wasted on the midnight hour, As she shrieked: "Lietuvių valytojoms yra geriausias pasaulyje!" [note 2], In a desperate attempt to retain her composure post-climax. O how can I ever forget her egregiously insatiable ****** appetite or Her immense cantilevered ***** whose glorious silhouette I can still recall in the silvery moonlight shining through The toilet window, as I peeped at her through the keyhole, Watching her wipe between her gorgeous silken arse-cheeks, With an improvised corner of the unfurled bathroom curtain, Mysteriously muttering "Jei nėra silkių nereikia valgyti!" [note 3] As she reviewed the remains of half-digested Cepelinai [note 4] O woe! All is now finished and dear overweight Valerija is lost to me, Having fallen drunkenly down an open manhole on Pilies one evening, And I am left alone to wetly kiss the cryptic letter she left for me, Staring sadly at the tear-stained smudged ink of her illiterate scrawls. Yea, mate, her last words of warning and patriotic exhultation were: "Jei jūsų kūdikis turi imbiero plaukus, mesti jį į upę!" [note 5] Followed by "Valio už Lietuvos Vermachto karo didvyrių!" [note 6] And I think they were probably the sanest things she ever said.
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Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 1:45 PM UTC
Memories of Vilnius
Yet another in my "Barry Hodges" series O what a beautiful city is baroque and unspoiled Vilnius, A veritable rose in the greyness of Eastern Europe, And a centre of fierce Lithuanian pride and nationalism Where loathing of Russia comes as part of the national tapestry, Woven into the heart and soul of each true descendant of Gediminas: "Tik geras rusų yra miręs rusų!"[note 1] my Litvak lady love would cry out In moments of extreme and poetic ******** excitement, As she farted tunefully through purple quilted haemorrhoids. O dearest delightful Vilnius, where my obsessive adoration Of this rather plump but still juicy middle-aged lady Went unrequited when she was sober, despite the perpetual onslaught Of my tenderly whispered syllables of love and lust, Even when my mispronounced tirade of affirmations of desire Rose to a pointless crescendo, wasted on the midnight hour, As she shrieked: "Lietuvių valytojoms yra geriausias pasaulyje!" [note 2], In a desperate attempt to retain her composure post-climax. O how can I ever forget her egregiously insatiable ****** appetite or Her immense cantilevered ***** whose glorious silhouette I can still recall in the silvery moonlight shining through The toilet window, as I peeped at her through the keyhole, Watching her wipe between her gorgeous silken arse-cheeks, With an improvised corner of the unfurled bathroom curtain, Mysteriously muttering "Jei nėra silkių nereikia valgyti!" [note 3] As she reviewed the remains of half-digested Cepelinai [note 4] O woe! All is now finished and dear overweight Valerija is lost to me, Having fallen drunkenly down an open manhole on Pilies one evening, And I am left alone to wetly kiss the cryptic letter she left for me, Staring sadly at the tear-stained smudged ink of her illiterate scrawls. Yea, mate, her last words of warning and patriotic exhultation were: "Jei jūsų kūdikis turi imbiero plaukus, mesti jį į upę!" [note 5] Followed by "Valio už Lietuvos Vermachto karo didvyrių!" [note 6] And I think they were probably the sanest things she ever said.
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33
This will land like focaccia, Like the careless 'forgot ya'! And a man will stand while staring in, through the coffee shop window, going off glossolalia. The ebullient cashier trainee remembers every name and mixes up almost all the orders for coffee, Cars are lined up for the drive- through, their voices sound like didjeridoos, in the ears covered by single cyborg clip-ons headset taking orders. The ****** iconoclast, Street person, bows to the ground, hat off his head, as he prays to the cigarette holes he made in the EXIT sign outside, his hat remains empty, as each car that whips up the wind that tumbles the receipts tossed egregiously at him, like leaves in the Fall, While the cruciverbalist sits in the corner in the only soft seat, finger pecking her keyboard while stares at the line and sips her chai tea, lagniappe of chocolate stashed, away in her voluptuous bag,  the beleaguered barista has cups lined up over the transcendental horizon, and she can't wait for her break so she can eat with Olio Nuovo olive oil, and Selection Artisan ged balsamic vinegar, she brought to dip, her focaccia bread in, which she forgot almost, on the counter at home.
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Apr 25, 2016
Apr 25, 2016 at 11:09 PM UTC
A fresh cup of Quixotic Poetry
such-a-deep-and-comely-thing so-fleshless-moments-are-going sharing-something-the-silence and-the-quick-quiverings-of-flutings when-nothing-becomes-the-heart like-a-jungle-stripping-the-panache of-the-viridian-softer-it-is-the-truth of-the-navel’s-blue-pursuit in-the-caterwaul-of-bodies-to-a-spry plaything-summon-a-laughter-blacker than-ravens-in-the-thrall-of-the-beset-moon and-the-homes-fat-always-with-such-tender-beatings it-is-the-time-of-the-heron it-is-the-end-of-the-susurration when-the-unswift-hands-of-alloys sojourn-and-still-something-a-dagger-in-the-mire of-the-cloud-that-egregiously-whispers a-long-possiblity-of-dreams-and-their-palpable-weight (say-it-will-perhaps-contention-of-pulseless-awakenings when-it-was-such-truthfulness-that-when-the-heart-sings the-mind-stirs-and-the-hands-dance-to-roundtables-of-mirth twitching-such-belittled-locomotions-when-it-was-fashionable to-have-adorned-you-the-love-and-not-firm-obstreperous-meanderings)
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Jan 8, 2016
Jan 8, 2016 at 7:27 AM UTC
Hyphonema
The 19 murdered and martyred children and the 2 murdered and martyred teachers who taught them in Ulvade, Texas were a collective Christ. They, like, Christ, were crucified, but by an endless stream of raging bullets that pierced their hearts and souls, killing all of them. **** Trump, Cowards Cruz and Abbott, and other members of the American Fascistist Party (formerly the Republican Party) also used the same trigger that has now murdered and martyred thousands and thousands and thousands of Americans. Indeed, all other members of the American Fascist Party have implicitly been pulling the same trigger. The Second Amendment was drafted and ratified to protect the right of all citizens of the United States of America to possess legally muskets, not AR 15s. America is now apparently not only dumb, but also, and most egregiously, numb. TOD HOWARD HAWKS
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May 26, 2022
May 26, 2022 at 12:09 PM UTC
A COLLECTIVE CHRIST
Relying on a response By your hand Holding my heart So delicately it beats Unremittingly of songs And tears it weeps For love of hope Alone I cannot win Your affection Do I dare Strive for more Than what has been Of late nights I lay awake Dreaming of dreams Do not come true Love will prevail Selfishly, I want you to be mine. Egregiously, I err on doubts.
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Dec 1, 2011
Dec 1, 2011 at 4:15 AM UTC
Untitled
No measure or equality, no way to gauge the pain wallowing in frivolity, counting drops of rain I'll not wake from this dream, and find a better way within my mind I hear the screams, each memory, replayed Some things cannot be salvaged, my soul, or sanity egregiously too ravaged, horror and profanity The loss of my mental state, completed on the day unable to wipe clean the slate, when you went away
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Nov 28, 2016
Nov 28, 2016 at 11:57 AM UTC
Crazy love
last night i dreamed of you over the moon with happiness viewing your beautiful hair egregiously falling in curls i love you so much baby so much more than you could ever imagine love is life i know this for a fact finding love in the strangest places eggs remind me of you
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Oct 27, 2017
Oct 27, 2017 at 3:11 AM UTC
love is life
Life once meant something You could later show your kids So they could be proud of you And all the good you did, So they could grow and learn And pass along the same way When it came their turn to teach Their children some fine day. We learned to play with others In back yards with few fences And we laughed with immigrants Like Borge and Señor Wences. We stayed outside and played With the kids of our neighbors. Mom stayed home, Dad worked And we profited from his labors. We still had pride of who we were And what we did during the war. We knew what peace and freedom And the Constitution were for. Our country was the role model For democracy doing it’s job And we never thought our country Would stoop at a chance to rob. We were told if we worked hard We could expect to do very well. Never once was it hinted to us That we would drop into a living hell. We trusted that our leaders would Continue to have our collective back. But that was before those elected went So egregiously far off the track. It’s hard to remember this now, Back then a forty hour situation Was all it took to make our way In our proud and righteous nation. Now both parents must work at Maybe two jobs each every day In order for the family to succeed Not like our parents used to say.
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Jan 17, 2018
Jan 17, 2018 at 6:54 PM UTC
UTOPIA LOST
Vane glorious and absolutistic, though I defiantly, cavalierly, and blithely attest Yukon bet your (laugh-in) sweet bippy mine acidic breast houses anarchic, anti-poetic ballistic, barbaric, and bubonic cannibalistic demons within thy safely guarded Pandora chest atomic cesium clock timed to trigger avast burst of anxiety, frenzy, and (What me worry Alfred E. Neuman) blast ting mental quietude at most inappropriate, inconvenient, inopportune, out classed adrenaline rush, nausea, palpitating heart, vertigo besieging, corrupting, endeavoring fractured arrant cleft daemonic gripping hellishly psychic chant rendering unto sieze **** a choking vise grip extant yule hiss sieze indomitable banshee fully controlling grant diabolic, dogmatic, and dynamic, anguished corporeal ache easily, egregiously, and emblematically, exemplified historically graphic fatalistic, and ecstatic coup, (koo), when I caused furious frantic flight, and/or fight betake king angst causing just desserts for Marie Antoinette, who got her humble pie cake, thence dispensing with formalities, where a joshing drake (named Gill O. Teen) also known (solely known to mine selfish source error ways) alias i.e. as; the Lewis (loose) lunatic, heady harvester, and decapitation Deacon trumpeting, trouncing, and triumphing tranquility for fifty three Tuesdays, thence sea king punishing psychotic pre pound payment basking in glory (re: gory us) amidship crashing quays music to mine ears hearing plaintive neighs high pitched straining vocal chord hamstrung keys regaling oceanographic lambent hagiographic essays and keeping at bathos bays.
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Jun 24, 2018
Jun 24, 2018 at 11:45 PM UTC
Yukon Call Me Panic
Vane glorious and absolutistic, though I defiantly, cavalierly, and blithely attest Yukon bet your (laugh-in) sweet bippy mine acidic breast houses anarchic, anti-poetic ballistic, barbaric, and bubonic cannibalistic demons within thy safely guarded Pandora chest atomic cesium clock timed to trigger avast burst of anxiety, frenzy, and (What me worry Alfred E. Neuman) blast ting mental quietude at most inappropriate, inconvenient, inopportune, out classed adrenaline rush, nausea, palpitating heart, vertigo besieging, corrupting, endeavoring fractured arrant cleft daemonic gripping hellishly psychic chant rendering unto sieze **** a choking vise grip extant yule hiss sieze indomitable banshee fully controlling grant diabolic, dogmatic, and dynamic, anguished corporeal ache easily, egregiously, and emblematically, exemplified historically graphic fatalistic, and ecstatic coup, (koo), when I caused furious frantic flight, and/or fight betake king angst causing just desserts for Marie Antoinette, who got her humble pie cake, thence dispensing with formalities, where a joshing drake (named Gill O. Teen) also known (solely known to mine selfish source error ways) alias i.e. as; the Lewis (loose) lunatic, heady harvester, and decapitation Deacon trumpeting, trouncing, and triumphing tranquility for fifty three Tuesdays, thence sea king punishing psychotic pre pound payment basking in glory (re: gory us) amidship crashing quays music to mine ears hearing plaintive neighs high pitched straining vocal chord hamstrung keys regaling oceanographic lambent hagiographic essays and keeping at bathos bays.
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57
*Your smile is filled with mare A mask that you still dare To wear like nobody cares I get that life is filled with issues But living a lie will not dry the tears or take away your fears You'll forever wonder why happiness Is bluntly staring at you deviously and why your love egregiously turns the oceans into dust, perilously*
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May 4, 2018
May 4, 2018 at 7:12 AM UTC
Backspace
transmitted ****** talks (partially presented pablum pertaining particularly - president ***** (PAC - ******* action *** mitt tee) portfolio ******* philandering) baneful boorish boastful bullheaded Brobdingnagian beastie boy balks. conspicuously cavalierly crudely curtly cavorts, capitulating, claiming, championing crying chauvinistic concupiscence, ****** cupidity caul king crooked cowboy cakewalks. Donald daringly, dastardly, defiantly, demonstrably, deplorably, deprecatingly, devilishly, divinely dumbfounded, duplicitously desultory, debauched, duckwalks. eccentric effrontery, egregiously enervating, excitedly exculpatory, extremely evil eyestalk. "fake," faultily fervently fiendishly flagrant fool, frightful. gaffe galling, gamesome gawker, generating gerrymandering. harboring hectoring heinously hellishly hideously horrendously horrible hulk. ignominious illicit ilk, imbecilic immodest immoral impetuous, impishly impudent, incarcerate, incinerate indecently, indecorous, iniquitous, intently intolerant, irascible irksome, itching ii incite iv iiiiii ix *********** izards. jowly ******* jackdaw jackknifing jaywalking jumping **** jilting jinn. knowingly keeping kryptonite, ***** Kardashian kvetches, kris kringle ken kool, kissing kitty, kosher kumquats kippered, k-nine kooky korps, kowtowing ku klux **** kinsfolk. legal leafstalk lawlessly locked, lacerated, lambasted, languished lost lively lust, limped, legal levity limited. menfolk made macho mission. many moons monthly mandate marked maybe mars, mercurial maladroit monkey manumission modified modus mystifying maze moonwalk.
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Mar 23, 2018
Mar 23, 2018 at 6:43 PM UTC
traduce tis trademark Trump's traitorous...
transmitted ****** talks (partially presented pablum pertaining particularly - president ***** (PAC - ******* action *** mitt tee) portfolio ******* philandering) baneful boorish boastful bullheaded Brobdingnagian beastie boy balks. conspicuously cavalierly crudely curtly cavorts, capitulating, claiming, championing crying chauvinistic concupiscence, ****** cupidity caul king crooked cowboy cakewalks. Donald daringly, dastardly, defiantly, demonstrably, deplorably, deprecatingly, devilishly, divinely dumbfounded, duplicitously desultory, debauched, duckwalks. eccentric effrontery, egregiously enervating, excitedly exculpatory, extremely evil eyestalk. "fake," faultily fervently fiendishly flagrant fool, frightful. gaffe galling, gamesome gawker, generating gerrymandering. harboring hectoring heinously hellishly hideously horrendously horrible hulk. ignominious illicit ilk, imbecilic immodest immoral impetuous, impishly impudent, incarcerate, incinerate indecently, indecorous, iniquitous, intently intolerant, irascible irksome, itching ii incite iv iiiiii ix *********** izards. jowly ******* jackdaw jackknifing jaywalking jumping **** jilting jinn. knowingly keeping kryptonite, ***** Kardashian kvetches, kris kringle ken kool, kissing kitty, kosher kumquats kippered, k-nine kooky korps, kowtowing ku klux **** kinsfolk. legal leafstalk lawlessly locked, lacerated, lambasted, languished lost lively lust, limped, legal levity limited. menfolk made macho mission. many moons monthly mandate marked maybe mars, mercurial maladroit monkey manumission modified modus mystifying maze moonwalk.
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42
Seasons come and go like seas' uneven breathing, deeply heaving. High tidal breeze, swells rise, seizing; lunar lock and keys hide sleeping, dreaming. Full feelings meet beaches easily steaming, waves crash breakwall, mist smoke screening. Then new sliver smiles, teasing, moon's silver filigree grins sharp, gleaming; shallow reefs peeking, watery weeds, wrists reaching feebly. Dreary ceiling and lighthouse beacon needed to cleave through these evenings of nightmares creeping. Heart darkened by legions teeming with evil heathens and devils, demons, towering behemoth war machines ceaseless, stampedes succeeding; peacekeeper unseated, depressive diseases breeding, thieving and depleting reason, leeching, treasonous lesions bleeding; feeding on weaknesses eaten. Meanwhile free man cartesian mapping Elysian regions, feet and knees freezing- insomnia's silence screaming, no egress, yet adamantine, unheeding, eager to only keep own legs still leading, each step meets concrete through bleakness, seeking bright beam's lamplit sweeping serene for me but heat seething these cretins like a bee sting. Dawn relinquishes, shadows fleeing back to the steepest peaks, creatures beaten, receding as sun climbs east egregiously defeating, signing tomorrow's treaty agreement before besiege on eden repeating.
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Mar 6, 2025
Mar 6, 2025 at 12:14 PM UTC
Sleepless Evenings (1st draft)