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"embroiled" poems
claude: battles tabletop. reaches for maple syrup, into breakfast, & breaks down puking. the girlfriend/abortion situation. the cash & cream corn. smells of deeper spring. grandma & her bible. to pray. to eat lunch. to television & honey blunt the relief of a sunday night. lily: into decay. into dark days of her america. detox: she breathes on vapor. sweet leaf. sweats the heat & dead-dreams off. off on wavelengths & resonance::: sound therapeutics, at 528.111 hz, enhanced dream frequency. she falls into bliss. into unopened codons & the rigor of vibrational analog. love cassette. achilles: wheelchair-bound & boning still. gripping *** the girl & couch. the couch & modern warfare. old warfare: harvest of limbs. he crawls across the lawn to pick strawberries. thumbs the dirt for entrance to another world. smokes a jar of roaches, as monument to his second generation revival. cool. wallace: & the zebra jeep. red rock monkeywrenched billboards & the ****** of flame upon milk factory. chemical factory. fertilizer bomb///return/ to town & grotto. porch-light wood & breath of bong-rotation. the babylon journeyman, embroiled in plots against the order. to simply disappear. to portal away.
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Apr 20, 2014
Apr 20, 2014 at 7:29 PM UTC
4, 20-something friends
The *** of rot I've been simmering Was embroiled to the boil You tried to remove the heat And appallingly scalded Your chest and face As my Water supplies are Surprisingly small I have little to go on but potluck and recall
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Jun 13, 2015
Jun 13, 2015 at 3:44 AM UTC
Untitled
...Our bodies, clothed, our souls, naked, our Selves, exposed, under the glow, so sacred, the glow, of the deep red moon, in it’s eclipse, in our eclipse, more than epic, everything all of it, love crazy as a lunatic, this is honestness, in all honestness, all of us, involved not embroiled, incense, and oils, timeless heirlooms of pheromones, undertones of unknowns future plans postponed, the core of our chromosomes covered in ecstatic moans, the world our throne ET finally phoned home, emotions amplified no microphone, thrown into our sensory’s cyclone, zoning in the zone she shook me to my bones, bones, ashes, dust, memories, amnesia memories, for as quickly as she’d appeared, she vanished in an instant, gone like a forgotten prophecy… from The H Trilogy Vol. 1 available worldwide ∆
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Jul 24, 2016
Jul 24, 2016 at 6:08 PM UTC
Dream Girl
the commander in chief has a propensity to use all kinds of weaponry his Nobel Peace Prize is looking rather tainted as he is a man who so likes war pictures to be painted he's stated he'll make a limited strike on Syrian soil but why would a so called man of peace need to become embroiled is he propping the Military Industrial Complex up those poor arms traders who require billions for their impoverished cups he might yet be making a miscalculation as to where his fires a missile for it may be greeted with not such a friendly smile the Middle East is a place where some moderation is sorely needed there are others who have a divergent view to the commander in chief they may take it upon themselves to act in a certain way which shall lead to some very grey days an explosive situation is on the horizon and the ramifications are too dire to contemplate may the commander in chief not press to the brink for it may mean peace on the planet is bound to sink he must take a level headed approach to any military activity as it will mean that harmonic relations are in a state of permanent injury
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Sep 8, 2013
Sep 8, 2013 at 1:50 AM UTC
Permanent Injury
Distraught the family gathered in a tight unit not knowing what to do! Their daughter was hooked on hard drugs through her liaison with a man. Realizing there was very little they could do what next they hadn't a clue! No matter how hard they'd tried to support she'd ignored their advice. Embroiled in a life of drugs and the dealers she was a confirmed addict! A situation they'd never faced ever before the future was unsure! Moving away to a big city from her home town contact had become zero! With such terrible reports of teenage abuse anxiety began to magnify! Hard to accept their child on the at risk register knowing they could lose her! Harsh facts for them to take in the whole truth in the end it was her choice! After the heartache only their child could decide being at her own cross road. Whether she had any chance of growing old or her life to drugs sold! Split from her drug dealing boyfriend yet again home she had one more chance. Off the drugs assuring her weary mum and dad all they could do was give love. Deep down understanding this was one last try or she most surely would Die! Only their daughter could choose the path! The Foureyed Poet.
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Jan 6, 2012
Jan 6, 2012 at 6:36 PM UTC
Hooked!
The sons of Hades Roam the earth with glee Infecting the minds of men tirelessly The effect is such That the earth is ravaged By the blood, sweat, and tears Of the millions She nurtured and nourished The sons of Hades Sprout up in the annals of the brain Banishing all the innate consciences of men Homes become hostile Streets become sanguine Buildings become battlefields Such is the ability of the sons of Hades The end is nigh With humanity embroiled in its last battle But is it one with the conscience Or the pawns of the sons of Hades Soon few remain Hidden in the shadows of dystopia But the sons of Hades Will taint the purity of all
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Dec 16, 2018
Dec 16, 2018 at 10:05 AM UTC
The Sons of Hades
Let us mine into the depths of Shakhty, and scorn the Western state of communist superintendence. We are embroiled in a political and industrial conglomerate where cold wars lay the foundations of unstoppable monstrosities. Converse with Andrei Romanovich Chikatilo, as you splatter milk across the surface of your psychological cereal, and raise questions around the episodic nature of criminal profiling. I love the olfactory beauty of a railway station, whose stench is dissimilar to the pastures of raunchy and deadly opportunities which result in Rostov butchery. Nevertheless, it is rooted in crop failure and the enforced collectivization of agriculture.
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Mar 27, 2015
Mar 27, 2015 at 10:11 PM UTC
Vicarious Traumatisation
Love's not better, the second time around, not with you at least, in quick time I found; you hadn't changed your frame of mind, you were too ruthless and still unkind. The years had only made you bitter, the time you had with me, you'd fritter; I had more good things to say and do, than moan and whine or compete with you. My one divorce for you was not enough, you still remained embroiled and rough; so you caused me to go and make it twice, because your love to me, it wasn't nice. I only wanted for you to meet me halfway, but for you, there's only one ****** way; you wanted to be the domineering one, well now the place is yours...have fun. But don't expect to see me anytime soon, can't stay with someone crazy as a loon; love's not better the second time around, not with you at least; that much I found.
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Mar 1, 2016
Mar 1, 2016 at 10:21 PM UTC
The Second Time Around...
/ If it were not for Some How was the Start of the And even though some may Start Something must have Means automatic did Not Your Earthly Life This day And This night The tree needs Soil It takes Light Air Water Just as you Are So Love Exists There are Smiles Cry Song There is Nothing Where you Can't All the Dark The Stars in the night Sky, Even I couldn't See There is no Moon, In the Darkness Why one for Another Everyone why Each The inside address seems quite Difficult But not too Difficult If you Try, You can Catch a Few It's your Secret to Everyone I think you are my creation this Address Have Taught Very Simple Such Life So there is Death The Earth exists so there is Light The Trees are So Fruits, Has its branches for the Birds Embroiled Nest Sing the Songs The Songs are in the air to You You have come to Me Together in Love Is made from the River Goes out to the Sea Get lost in the Midst Of a wave of a Thousand Million Back Again In Another Form Mystery of any other Occasion Any other Day Repeatedly Continuous / @Musfiq us shaleheen
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Feb 6, 2015
Feb 6, 2015 at 12:59 PM UTC
Your form of mystery
**It seemingly oscillates from The realm of practicality to that of blatant absurdity A fearfully bold doubting Thomas of sorts Embroiled in self-esteem issues In constant conflict with itself Sitting on the fence always A pleasant consolation And being a daredevil a fantasy Nurtured in the remotest miniscule part of the brain Tell me this aint fearless cowardice**
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Jul 24, 2013
Jul 24, 2013 at 2:33 AM UTC
An austere heart.
Saved myself with realm coin Went for the long con with put options Eschewed sold short term gain Let them railroad me with true colors Finessed my coalition willingly Painted a big picture expressed scope With mass appeal diverse production means Bred loyalty from salt of earth devotees Ends justified by all’s fair politics Power brokers stole my ideas for venal exploits Then claimed execution on midgets’ shoulders Made low hanging fruit that much more demanding High bar gymnastics twisted words blanched of meaning Model workers did lords’ bidding beyond expectations Barely rewarded with subsistence’s mounting debt to society Paid on inmates’ backs embroiled in endless energy wars
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Oct 3, 2013
Oct 3, 2013 at 10:58 PM UTC
Art of the Deal
It was in wander for not lost was she. It was in wonder for without sin she walked towards the tree bearing sweet fruit enticing her forward lust sent a lumber puncture through her spine upwards it shot to the brain; cerebral forms into a beating heart. It excited her there was such freedom found in such innocence. Pulsating quivers she waited Adam to her Eve daisy chains falling from her neck framing a prepubescent chest hooks temperately fastening white knotted cotton hand sewn dress virginal white no womanhood in sight Annabelle’s life, a melody of melancholic cacophonic raspers from asylums, former patients of Briarcliff Manor residing in her; only misery innocent running’s from grave dangers of stark raving madness. For, today she wasn’t embroiled as Arden’s pet instead she was the little girl so born to be before the woman was stolen, bound by a physicians sick nightmarish re-enactments. For, today she was free a starling, passionate darling. © Sia Jane
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Nov 9, 2014
Nov 9, 2014 at 7:10 PM UTC
Asylum
Head hung low he strolls along The squat, staid streets of London Until halted by a throng Of blossoming carnations I ask: What mortal joy is grander Than to be rapt by a flower as you meander? And raise thy head in reverence To a flourishing floral sight Fanciful as rainbow’s end Pure as a soul in flight Bundles of them he saw at a glance Adding their zest to the Spring’s gay dance Glittering in resplendent hues From all across the spectrum Much colours did his eye amuse; He didn’t know to expect them He stood and sighed and thought: “How pleasant To see the world turn iridescent!” Beneath the trees, sunk in soil Gestating all the year The flowers with the earth embroiled The work of life is dear Dutifully they pledge upon Their lives to keep life going on It pays well to flash thine eyes On things that are lesser seen Much is hidden in this world That is soothing and serene He left, his heart in gestation Just like the blossoming carnations
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Nov 22, 2016
Nov 22, 2016 at 5:51 AM UTC
Carnations
sommige mense siele                                                          some people’s souls                                           skyn van hul                                                               shine out of                                           ligame uit                                                                    their bodies anders is betrap                                                     others are trapped                   vasgevang                                                                                            embroiled in bitter denke in bitter thoughts in bitter dade                                                                                        in bitter deeds opgevreet                                                                                              consumed deur                                                                                                        by angst                                                                                                      anxiety jalousie                                                                                                   jealousy gierigheid                                                                                              greed onsekerheid                                                                                          uncertainty opgetwis                                                                                                twisted up onbewus                                                                                                unaware
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Jun 14, 2012
Jun 14, 2012 at 8:08 AM UTC
observasie – observation
sommige mense siele                                                          some people’s souls                                           skyn van hul                                                               shine out of                                           ligame uit                                                                    their bodies anders is betrap                                                     others are trapped                   vasgevang                                                                                            embroiled in bitter denke in bitter thoughts in bitter dade                                                                                        in bitter deeds opgevreet                                                                                              consumed deur                                                                                                        by angst                                                                                                      anxiety jalousie                                                                                                   jealousy gierigheid                                                                                              greed onsekerheid                                                                                          uncertainty opgetwis                                                                                                twisted up onbewus                                                                                                unaware
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15
Does she know her profound effect, on two lowly rejects or is she luminescent from some mutual recompense and how do you feel when the exhilaration has faded? 'Secret gratification, I see you behind the blind, pacing ************ for the girl above your station It's grating how you feel so humiliated When you spot me in my lounge, amused by the situation' It's a mad sporadic dash to end, how long will she stand It's a repressed trend but furthermore it soon wanes and we're all left motionless, unbridled and insane You, ****** master of disguise Beautiful young girl, pale blue eyes Me, misanthrope, full of despise Cars on the street, I hear the cries Human nature is strong, I sympathise But in broad daylight, can you truly say this is wise?
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May 25, 2013
May 25, 2013 at 11:05 AM UTC
Schaulust and Democracy are Embroiled in the Eternal Battle
No facade elaborate enough To adequately conceal The inner-conflict In which I am embroiled No crooning of comfort Can delivery me peace Or forestall my mind's Eventual unhinging No foxed, tattered pages Of forlorn loveletters Strewn with stark promises Can resurrect my will My compass confiscated My map of reason Torn and trampled upon My future at the mercy of shadows
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Mar 30, 2014
Mar 30, 2014 at 1:11 PM UTC
At the Mercy of Shadows
No way for her to ascertain the ashen carpets of erasure randomly assigned to the tapestry of garish hope's circumstantial hopscotch squares with a body already incommodiously perched upon legs submissive to the here and now's drunken mercury Alone she has been left to sweep up the gravity that hobbles optimism in the hops of faith around the ambivalence of horizontal authenticity Left alone to weep on twitching roots and theorize a rally bloom in spite of severance in tune with sparks of closure The shadow of her sunken chin emits embroiled tributaries of respawning yesterdays Queen of checkerboard embodiment her rhythmic rule entails zephyrs of endurance in the vacuum of fulfilling prophecies
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Apr 28, 2014
Apr 28, 2014 at 2:44 AM UTC
TRIBUTE
Can we please have a moment of silence? shhh! That is for shame The consciousness of impropriety and dishonour, a soul eating emotion, an inner burning flame. Disembarked and render anaemic by a queen dark and evil, for with her, shame is non-existence Blame her not, her wicked soul is the caprice of affinity with being an outcast and unlove For before her heart became embroiled with dark powers and all the ingenious gore that accompany an unrepentant soul, She had the lassitude of the perfect woman, a languid ease, the obeisance, lovable heart and knew nothing foul But deep inside her aching heart, all that she suffered silently, she could enlighten no one, from her devastated childhood, the sheer indescribable horror of neglect, unreturned love, the treachery, the villainy, melancholy motherhood And castigation made her seek power even into the maelstrom of the blackest tempest of the darkest part of hell. Her hunger for power and macabre mode of it acquisition, renders the thought of her been shameful, lilliputian As she journeyed towards the castle, her conscience wasn't pricked by volatile outbursts of her sins from the angry crowd she knew what she wanted, she sold her soul for this, she knew this was what she has to go through to get it. A rite of passage stolen by lucifer from the Saviour of the world Let them strip, beat, and mock you.Let them make you walk through there crowd disgraced, but be rest assured that when all is done, you'll be the ruler of all For too many a time, the story has been told, be you good or evil, fortune only favours the bold. The castle was her own Golgotha, the throne was her own cross beyond that castle wall lies all that she needs to rule and have dominion for there in that castle live the old man and others waiting to make her there queen I was swift to condemn her for all, but after a retrospective thinking, my judgement became ambivalent. wasn't it judgements and condemnations that made her felt sequestered, separated, segregated and all other equivalent? To be continued......
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Sep 24, 2016
Sep 24, 2016 at 3:11 PM UTC
The Queen,The The Journey To The Castle,The Old Man Inside The Castle
Can we please have a moment of silence? shhh! That is for shame The consciousness of impropriety and dishonour, a soul eating emotion, an inner burning flame. Disembarked and render anaemic by a queen dark and evil, for with her, shame is non-existence Blame her not, her wicked soul is the caprice of affinity with being an outcast and unlove For before her heart became embroiled with dark powers and all the ingenious gore that accompany an unrepentant soul, She had the lassitude of the perfect woman, a languid ease, the obeisance, lovable heart and knew nothing foul But deep inside her aching heart, all that she suffered silently, she could enlighten no one, from her devastated childhood, the sheer indescribable horror of neglect, unreturned love, the treachery, the villainy, melancholy motherhood And castigation made her seek power even into the maelstrom of the blackest tempest of the darkest part of hell. Her hunger for power and macabre mode of it acquisition, renders the thought of her been shameful, lilliputian As she journeyed towards the castle, her conscience wasn't pricked by volatile outbursts of her sins from the angry crowd she knew what she wanted, she sold her soul for this, she knew this was what she has to go through to get it. A rite of passage stolen by lucifer from the Saviour of the world Let them strip, beat, and mock you.Let them make you walk through there crowd disgraced, but be rest assured that when all is done, you'll be the ruler of all For too many a time, the story has been told, be you good or evil, fortune only favours the bold. The castle was her own Golgotha, the throne was her own cross beyond that castle wall lies all that she needs to rule and have dominion for there in that castle live the old man and others waiting to make her there queen I was swift to condemn her for all, but after a retrospective thinking, my judgement became ambivalent. wasn't it judgements and condemnations that made her felt sequestered, separated, segregated and all other equivalent? To be continued......
Continue reading...
23
Togetherness Embroiled In the hearts Of lovers Forever Stranded On an island Of love Absent Of Malice Attempts- To ****** Their insecurities Blanket illusions Masking the effect When love Becomes lust A race to nut A Cozy Little Lie
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Aug 11, 2016
Aug 11, 2016 at 5:24 PM UTC
A Cozy Little Lie
I was the queen in quest of your dreaming teens You were in race to trace my grace of beaming beauty Your shower of love was to catch my fragrant flower Life was like amusing laser show for a major glow A fresh breeze of life I felt in your lifelong lease of love Your fast love at first sight was forthright, I saw it so Your love was on a broadband channel, I surmised, On high frequency at matching wave length you promised Love was in fairy air you craved, cared n’ carried thru’ I molded to your mauls, for I rejoiced your choice I was mild and yielding as you stepped up wielding Rendered and surrendered to your shabby game of love You left the fruit of your lust in my lap in a decade’s gap. Embroiled in undue deal, you now embraced Unhealthy wealth than wealthy health Lavish lust, peevish love and selfish life Lo, love is to collate not to collide n’ collapse I feel sad when our lad says my dad is bad My love was one popped up from heart Your love pepped up from crazy corner The kid is keen to pick up your kiss Welcome to hold me to your fold, don’t miss All I need is your towering love Not your quivering ivory tower. All I wish you is not to rewind Your tampered tape on kin akin
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Feb 1, 2015
Feb 1, 2015 at 7:31 AM UTC
Parable of love
Torn Curtains. Jagged edges of my soul immersed inside of a place where the sun never seems to shine As though I am embroiled inside of a cocoon with sawed off edges And it is I that wails away here inside of dusted covers of what might have been. jo.
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Mar 22, 2014
Mar 22, 2014 at 11:54 AM UTC
Torn Curtains.
Caught in the maze Of amazing veins ****** cells excel Tunneling thru’ Vessels and vestibules Mind oscillates vacillates In chaotic amplitude Like a pendant in pendulum Of wishes and vices Divine and devilish Wise and unwise Pride and prejudice Dual mind is in duel Behind the temple Brain at home in skull Will and wit seated well in skill Rein, rule or roam and ruin Embroidered and embroiled Embodied and emboldened Meditate, mediate, Cogitate, agitate Churn and spurn Nurture the soul within Explore the radiant light At the end of the tunnel Mind, the deity on duty As mysterious as its Maker, The Brain behind the brain
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Nov 20, 2014
Nov 20, 2014 at 10:17 AM UTC
Mind Blowing
Caught in the maze Of amazing veins ****** cells excel Tunnelling thru’ Vessels and vestibules Mind oscillates vacillates In chaotic amplitude Like a pendant in pendulum Of wishes and vices Divine and devilish Wise and unwise Pride and prejudice Dual mind is in duel Behind the temple Brain at home in skull Will and wit seated well in skill Rein, rule or roam and ruin Embroidered and embroiled Embodied and emboldened Meditate, mediate, Cogitate, agitate Churn and spurn Nurture the soul within Explore the radiant light At the end of the tunnel Mind, the deity on duty As mysterious as its Maker, The Brain behind the brain
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Feb 14, 2015
Feb 14, 2015 at 8:08 PM UTC
Mind Blowing
Dear Mother did you know that you beget, A flower in my Heart that doth my pain abet, Watering it for life with loving rain, Soothing it with lullaby refrains, Tending to its stems and to its soils, In which it is with Loves light deep embroiled, A seemly sight are you with watering can, More qualified and skilled than any man, To nourish the ****** diamond of my Heart, For thine affections the gift of gorgeous grace impart, Such a daughter never wants for more, But may in ignorance for more implore, Yet grateful am I for transcendental blossom, Kindled in my mind for all your wisdom, Your perfect care and sweetest charity, That stokes the gift of love and amity, When the sky collapse, with thunder bolts, That strike upon my heart and give it welts, Dear mother from her bedside duly raise, To tend to me, and so I offer praise, In worthy, sanguine, devoted Psalms, For you mother a million alms, And a hundred million drams, Knows Love cannot be count in grams, Dutiful and diligent on her way, Dear Mother you assuage my dismay, Be forever aura sent to heal, Dear Mother, hear my Love, earnest appeal.
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Aug 26, 2017
Aug 26, 2017 at 9:38 PM UTC
Dear Mother