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"embezzle" poems
I write in the midnight corner of now and what is to come. Sifting through the ashes of the forgotten. I seek what I fail to find in a light I can scarcely see. The rain washes the sins from my skin so that the ones inside can bleed back out. My words catch the air with gentle, intense passion. I caress the broken cheek hoping to fix it and finding only myself more broken. I know not of what is to come but I can prepare myself with the ammunition of my past. The brittle autumn wind calms me with the vibrant colors of a dying world. My mind wanders into the absent recesses of my twisted imagination. The words I write copy the voices in my torn heartstrings. I lust for the cold rain fingers that embezzle my mind. My soul is painted with the bright blackness of a blackhole's laughter. There is a butterfly caged in my stomach and I'm too afraid to let it free. - - - When will I know that I've found rapture? ~S.C. Kelley
0
Sep 3, 2018
Sep 3, 2018 at 3:04 PM UTC
Rapture Among Darkness
The most beautiful flower
 Within a field of growing weeds and brown leaves 
It seems to take up all the light
 besides all the dead and despair around it
 Its petals are moist and the colors seem to change to whatever they need to protect themselves from. But, the blossom is too beautiful. 
 Too consumingly appealing to whomever laid their eyes on it.
 The sun’s rays were getting jealous and did no longer want to shine on the pleasing leaves - or on the strong roots or its inviting colors - as they took away their shine and 
were now filled with contempt. Most of all the rays were jealous of what the flower could do.
 Embezzle. Inspire and create. Dazzle. 
It dazzled me. The flower could not only extract happiness from its surroundings but it also gave. 
It gave love. Love and comfort and happiness, friendship and enjoyment. It gave a way for men to see through the bad and look at the good. 
It tasted so sweet.

 The flower fought, spurting out at some cautious moment but it could not win
 For it needed the rays gentle touch to grow and to 
Exist. Long after men spoke of the waste. 
How such a beauty had perished,
 And its power was no longer there to greet them like an old friend.
 It was now only a myth,
 One that no one really could remember 
as it felt like a dimly lit memory, one that played a yet unknown role in whatever faith there is to come. It was not the beauty that men remembered now. 
Only the waste. 
As the good leaves no scars, and is scarcely treasured how it should.
 But oh the waste. They spoke. Such a waste.
0
Oct 12, 2012
Oct 12, 2012 at 7:13 AM UTC
Wasteland
The most beautiful flower
 Within a field of growing weeds and brown leaves 
It seems to take up all the light
 besides all the dead and despair around it
 Its petals are moist and the colors seem to change to whatever they need to protect themselves from. But, the blossom is too beautiful. 
 Too consumingly appealing to whomever laid their eyes on it.
 The sun’s rays were getting jealous and did no longer want to shine on the pleasing leaves - or on the strong roots or its inviting colors - as they took away their shine and 
were now filled with contempt. Most of all the rays were jealous of what the flower could do.
 Embezzle. Inspire and create. Dazzle. 
It dazzled me. The flower could not only extract happiness from its surroundings but it also gave. 
It gave love. Love and comfort and happiness, friendship and enjoyment. It gave a way for men to see through the bad and look at the good. 
It tasted so sweet.

 The flower fought, spurting out at some cautious moment but it could not win
 For it needed the rays gentle touch to grow and to 
Exist. Long after men spoke of the waste. 
How such a beauty had perished,
 And its power was no longer there to greet them like an old friend.
 It was now only a myth,
 One that no one really could remember 
as it felt like a dimly lit memory, one that played a yet unknown role in whatever faith there is to come. It was not the beauty that men remembered now. 
Only the waste. 
As the good leaves no scars, and is scarcely treasured how it should.
 But oh the waste. They spoke. Such a waste.
Continue reading...
36
Walking into a store can be dazzling and distracting, accepting the culture to embezzle, anything to lure the customer and make a consumer. But walk in, and find the salesperson to ruin the image: "hello, can I help you? What are you looking for?" (not your help, thanks) Similarly, self-promotional smucks give me the same feeling. I'm not going to check out your mixtape, I'm not going to check out your youtube, I refuse to be bought, just because you asked nicely.
0
Feb 5, 2015
Feb 5, 2015 at 8:59 AM UTC
I'd rather find it on my own, thanks
Waddley bimbely Nothing is new. Sometimes I don’t know What I should do. Walkily talkily Human kazoo. I have learned better Than trusting in you. Whiffily sniffley Embezzle and lie Authority snority Let it go by. Cheatum and beatum If they complain Skim from the top Buy a new plane. Hoppity boppity Games of chance Always let poor people Pay for the dance. Scrappity snappity Selling their wares ***** about usury Nobody dares. Slippity slidery Constant rendition. Use public money To buy politicians. Graftery crafters Buy media too. Make some more billions To see their way through.
0
Mar 10, 2016
Mar 10, 2016 at 10:09 PM UTC
DOUBLETALK BUBBLE
*The wind here is foreign, An accent of thick whispers & voodoo. There was a bark of ember, A source of grace & her inevitable karma. The burning coals leave levering zingers, In the visible mist. Destiny, The charming embellisher. Begins painting prosperity on the walls. After all these long years of downs. & with a whistle, The silence is crystallized. Detaching from the transparent water wings. & preparing for the longest swim. Just a sliver of ember, Could embezzle, a country.*
0
Oct 24, 2013
Oct 24, 2013 at 1:20 PM UTC
"Slivers of Ember"
All invitations stand for you To step inside my open mind But I provide no guarantee That you'll like what you find Behind closed doors and warning signs For curtain calls of tragedy And twisted humor comedies More Dante than divine Like a ringwraith, king of nine In my deepest circle bat cave I'm the new clown prince of rhyme So come get on my level Where I revel in the devil Turning up the heat on all The demons who embezzle While I'm chillin' like a villain In the egos that I'm killin' Trippin' slippin' down a thrillin' slope Just hangin' from a dope *** rope This **** is tight, it helps me cope When all of ye abandon hope Where it all floats, you enter here Steer clear of gutters, It is fear My paper boat adrift alone King Arthur with no Guinevere I disappear and leave no trace Erasers in an office space An empty desk and swivel chair Still spinning at the same old pace All carries on without me there I knew you wouldn't like this place
0
Feb 27, 2017
Feb 27, 2017 at 1:52 AM UTC
Open House
Indeed I was born in a s '''Hole  country A royal citizen of Norway ,the world's best country Whose citizens refused to come to a country That elected an a '' hole to lead their country . Donald Trump is right to call us s'''hole countries Officials embezzle millions ,yet can't pay salaries From dawn to dusk the people moan in anguish cries Malnourished kids live with hunger disease and flies African governments made their own homes s***holes Look at the bad infrastructures bad roads and potholes With all the natural resources our economies and financial woes For the impoverished and gullible masses ,there are no hopes . Let's not get angry at the dumb a''  President of America But rather direct our discontents at our corrupt leaders in Africa Who hides money in Swiss banks and vacations in Arabia Africa,thou mayest not like this ,time to wake up from the coma !
0
Jan 14, 2018
Jan 14, 2018 at 3:04 PM UTC
An ***** Called Us S***Holes
Would you like to buy a plane that doesn't fly? It was made in the year 1416 in what is now modern-day Yugoslavia It was made for an African Queen named James Upon its completion 16 days later, it was shipped over the Adriatic Sea And arrived in Cuba 7 days after they started building it The Chinese people there were confused by it So they went into the cockpit and turned it on They unwittingly set it to full throttle It flew at mach 16 1/4 inch above the ground The Russians chased after it on top of a flying Marshall Tucker Band .45 The Indians caught up to it in 180 revolutions Which is 4 minutes When they caught up to it, the Australians smashed the jet engine And ripped each of the 7 propeller blades, one by one Then, in the year 2004, a man named Jeff Murly found it While he was trying to become the first person to climb Mt. Everest With their hands in their back pockets He tripped 4 inches from the summit And he found the plane lying on the ground It could have been yours for a mere 16 cents But because of Obama's overpriced taxes, It'll cost $77 trillion I wonder if he'll use it all to pay off some of his debt Or if he'll embezzle it
0
Jul 20, 2014
Jul 20, 2014 at 9:30 PM UTC
A Plane That Doesn't Fly
embezzle the grey matter underneath a skull overladen with pintrest pins dotted sideways like impact-stars__fallen bricks__ flowers plummet vase-first onto concrete side-world beyond the gardener's balcony__it always takes an angry peasant to make the peasants into serfs__like a bleeding riddle in granite or grass, left to rushed interpretation as the meta-physicists usurp the physicists authority and insist the earth is speaking to avoid a hemorrhaging final trimester in the birth of human omnipotence__instead Mother Nature asks Dr. Neptune for an abortion in the final trimester__Dr. Neptune politely declines and returns to Sean Hannity in the Situation Room__how dry is a planet where it never, ever rains?
0
Nov 15, 2014
Nov 15, 2014 at 2:55 PM UTC
dis-ease
*He knows no truth he who never lied For how can he know what's lie or truth? He who never died has never lived For he who has lived has died He knows not real joy if he never cried For after the tears comes the reality of joy Expect them who broke rules to abide For unlike the meek,have nothing to hide Those who have won will win again For they know the reality of glory While failures will fail again and again 'Cause they are already used to the story Yes, fools they say never learn Why?Wise men of today never teach You don't play with fire you'll not burn But we get to know by the boundaries we breach Who know spectate,who don't are on pitch Sometimes, hard to tell Bull from the ***** People learn the rules to know the cracks And those are the point they hit to break them Not guilty these days doesn't mean innocent The boundaries of law can be stretched and bent If you have to embezzle, take billions Otherwise steal chicken and you'll be fed to lions*
0
Jun 15, 2015
Jun 15, 2015 at 5:14 AM UTC
UNTOLD COMMANDMENTS
This so-called-life ceased to make sense All logic in the matter shall be said in past tense For all the trivial **** is too much for us to cleanse ´Tis the word for you to repeat. Now let´s commence Moral stands the ground for incongruence Dinner etiquette and animalistic behavior All that profound nothing and violence Then again we read the words of our savior Acting as if there´s a script. Open yourself to frustration Act accordingly and don´t get caught, or else there´s alienation Don’t act as if there´s an after-death salvation It is in this world, think for yourself and become a one-man´s nation Moralistic turnouts of ****** who now embezzle into the game of society As ridiculous as a drunk reminiscing of past days now living in sobriety People change but hear me out, try and change a story All you animals have your release in snobbism and never forgo its glory Open to death old corsairs accept their fate For they have always lived by the eternal gate And those who portrayed falsely faith and religion Must now rage inwards as they see the oblivion.
0
Mar 4, 2019
Mar 4, 2019 at 10:32 AM UTC
Red-Eye Flight
The phone rang and no one dared to pick it up, All they said, they had heard and seen enough, Was it a call meant for them or for us? A nation out of peace, liberty and unity, A nation formed from the dreams of our fathers, A dream manifested by the unification of tribes and ethnicity, Breaking down segregation and discrimination, Black, white, yellow, red and plain, Embraced and unified as one for the greater good, But our father said do not be fooled, For it is not always as it appears to be, Unity could be pleasing to you and me, Alas!! tyranny is just lurking around waiting for an opportunity, Our father called to warn us but no one picks up, Perhaps tyranny is sitting silent by the phone, Perhaps it’s our greed and pride that’s our enemy, Could it be that we answered a call and it was a wrong number, Asleep or awake from our slumber, In darkness and poverty slums, crossroads, Need us not to say but our suffering is for all to see, A cry from the gutter heard but ignored, A house will be strong if it survives an earthquake, A nation will be torn if it embraces my faults, Leaders will fall if they embezzle my thoughts, But this is my phone call to my nation, One last time before I run out of airtime, One last call to my people, By ISSAI
0
May 22, 2014
May 22, 2014 at 8:42 AM UTC
A NATIONAL MISSED CALL
Dancing in the attic, I hide from the Passerby, Confronting their eyes— Traumatic. Listen to the words I try to imply. These beings mean no harm, To me, they seem strange. As they embezzle in my charm, All I see them as, deranged.
0
Feb 27, 2025
Feb 27, 2025 at 10:50 AM UTC
Attic Waltz
I sat along the golden leaves of chinars Autumn working like a zinner.... The nest lay unlatched , The stars above uncatched.. The spectre of winter embezzle every Hope of spring... The snow puffs primed to Hug the buttercups ..... The Heart ablazed with the thoughts of death, When the spring accompanying Autumn !!!! When I "ll be laid in the bottom ....
0
Nov 12, 2018
Nov 12, 2018 at 9:07 PM UTC
Beneath the chinars
People, states money is the root of all evil. Except they leave out the most important line. It's the love of money. We see many will sell their souls to the devil. Just to be rich. They totally loses all their common sense to get it. They becomes mistresses. Marry even to achieve it. Don't matter about the misery behind it. They embezzle and blame the other fella. When it was them using it to pay bills. Oh, the chase of the illusive dream. Trying to get recognized by any means. Our moral compass becomes compomised, to the point that those with sight becomes blind. We fail to follow that common sense approach. Told to us many years ago. That anything worth having just means, we have to work a little harder for it. Money, don't control out hearts. It don't control our minds. We surrender our rights to follow life's protocol.
0
Dec 10, 2012
Dec 10, 2012 at 8:43 AM UTC
Life's Protocol
in and out, black and blue, you vs. the world recognition of ideas that decisive the only thing we have left our own thoughts contemporary ideas thrashed with technical propaganda abandoning free exposure and vigour of intentions Leaving us in a rubrics cube of push and pull to come out all sides equal shuffle, mend, regroup, Agree that deficiency is to be desired as feebleness is to be expected reap technique and embezzle knowledge like its our only opportunity free passion and become immune to negativity With indomitable will triumph is inevitable
0
Apr 4, 2014
Apr 4, 2014 at 3:14 AM UTC
Perceived notions
Star Bound Society, sobriety, entirely, I’m finally Not in denial, my smirk is my smile No coasting or boasting, no time left just get toasted Rampaging pages, no waiting in cages, lately impatient I’ve been standing dismantled, thoughts scrambled, abandoned Pursuing soothing illusions, mirages emerge influent These terrors in bearing preparing on perishing Common ground sound, vibrations deterred losing renown Bracing the wastes, enticing the tastes, priceless the chase Overencumbered, numbered the days I have left to plunder Decisions are rampant, listless the canvas, incision the campus Unveiled are the plans to ensnare, hail to the king of the fail Spots on the rocks with my scotch in the locks Pretty, petty, steady confetti, embezzle the Getty be ready Losses, no life lost, eternally embossed, drained and caustic Fires burn urging to earn, no concern, my place in the stars By:  Cosmik
0
May 13, 2020
May 13, 2020 at 10:46 PM UTC
Star Bound
Poets embezzle, hidden truths with metaphors derived richly from the depths of unseen pain and cover up the remnants of the act; with a smile that covers with tact what they've been feeling for a long while.
0
Dec 13, 2018
Dec 13, 2018 at 8:33 AM UTC
POETS
They steal us blind, Embezzle livelihoods of generations unborn, No different from European barbarians, Who today pass off as modern grammarians.
0
Nov 18, 2015
Nov 18, 2015 at 12:34 PM UTC
PRIMITIVE.