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"endorsing" poems
Fiat lux and Then I stand and see how it looks out on Gnothi seauton psychologies of a naughty automaton he is Out speeding on the autobahn while she is Now sleeping on futons in peace it's Not pieces that need to be re-ordered yet Since he's reckless but wrecks less when he's courting it's A sport, you see a ticket's his master trophy in- Deed endorsing his Porsche-speed matrimony down master row and she's Driven to this racer who makes her en- Force things, they later make her take her lead like lead's erasing then vanishing Banished from whatever it is they're drinking and it's cleaned Running from the pitcher as if it's her fantasy Love who's the catcher who has her and Now you see It's not lack-lusting but luck-lasting because lastly Down the street Is where I swear we're running faster from crashing, finally Into this dreamcatcher's hazard Our dreamcatcher's hazard Oh have you heard It's absurd that the whip cracked Yeah the Porsche was hacked baby transformed back in two and back into a nat- Ural rural state where the horse power level was more morally sta- Ble biblically faith- Ful foolishly a- Ble but yeah we take over whatever we face-off and baby we're faster so we'll have to chase after our Dreamcatcher's hazard and That dreamcatcher's hazard's a A madness that is learned And it's absurd So say the mattress is glowing it's holy Matrimony, so don't look lonely it's only Master Roshi, to say to chase your dreams It's you and me be- Cause for you my blood is flowing For you my blood is glowing For you this blood is flowing And too the flood is blowing It's true our love is growing
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May 12, 2014
May 12, 2014 at 8:22 PM UTC
Dreamcatcher's Hazard
Fiat lux and Then I stand and see how it looks out on Gnothi seauton psychologies of a naughty automaton he is Out speeding on the autobahn while she is Now sleeping on futons in peace it's Not pieces that need to be re-ordered yet Since he's reckless but wrecks less when he's courting it's A sport, you see a ticket's his master trophy in- Deed endorsing his Porsche-speed matrimony down master row and she's Driven to this racer who makes her en- Force things, they later make her take her lead like lead's erasing then vanishing Banished from whatever it is they're drinking and it's cleaned Running from the pitcher as if it's her fantasy Love who's the catcher who has her and Now you see It's not lack-lusting but luck-lasting because lastly Down the street Is where I swear we're running faster from crashing, finally Into this dreamcatcher's hazard Our dreamcatcher's hazard Oh have you heard It's absurd that the whip cracked Yeah the Porsche was hacked baby transformed back in two and back into a nat- Ural rural state where the horse power level was more morally sta- Ble biblically faith- Ful foolishly a- Ble but yeah we take over whatever we face-off and baby we're faster so we'll have to chase after our Dreamcatcher's hazard and That dreamcatcher's hazard's a A madness that is learned And it's absurd So say the mattress is glowing it's holy Matrimony, so don't look lonely it's only Master Roshi, to say to chase your dreams It's you and me be- Cause for you my blood is flowing For you my blood is glowing For you this blood is flowing And too the flood is blowing It's true our love is growing
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40
Teasing the beast Looking for a feast Hounds barking at our ears Vultures flying up ahead Circling a bald eagle's fresh corpse Compartmentalizing symptom after symptom To hide the great systematic sickness Labeling the suffering, outcome from desire We, wholeheartedly accepting being Appropriated, labeled, discarded As construing our own oppression and sadness Enduring the **** of our minds Being castrated of our consciousness Before we reap the products Of its bold liberation and grandness Its the belly of the beast And its hungry Insatiable, amoral entrails Hoping to salvage a feast From the casualties of d(e)moc(ratic) wars Hoping we feed our monstrous fear Thirsting for the greed Dripping off of accumulating wealths Impatiently waiting, we keep parceling out grudges Disfiguring our minds, our souls, and our bodies Its misanthropic nature lashes out without conscience Knowing we'll never realize we are masses Disappearing the individuals who realize their suffering Ensuring there's no collective opposition or action Trying to reassure we are weak Knowing at some point or another We all act mute, deaf, and blind when anyone experiences: Oppression Pain Silencing **** Hunger Fear Violence Repression Retaliation Discrimination Torture Negation Alienation All forms of mental, psychological, physical, and spiritual mutilation Fearing death more than fighting for necessary abolishment Preferring to live out our veiled miseries Endorsing their continuance Instead of risking our lives for everyone's liberation Always ensuring the feast of the beast By its very efforts trying to decree our very human nature Ingraining greed, fear, animosity, and weakness as if inherent of us All parts of its most damaging weapon: the seed of discord Its implantation, a socialized deep desire for self-preservation Sheep bleating painfully toward our ears Vultures flying up ahead Circling a bald eagle's fresh corpse Signifying the impending recapturing Of our true transformative desires
0
May 4, 2013
May 4, 2013 at 11:30 PM UTC
Rescuing Our True Transformative Desires
Teasing the beast Looking for a feast Hounds barking at our ears Vultures flying up ahead Circling a bald eagle's fresh corpse Compartmentalizing symptom after symptom To hide the great systematic sickness Labeling the suffering, outcome from desire We, wholeheartedly accepting being Appropriated, labeled, discarded As construing our own oppression and sadness Enduring the **** of our minds Being castrated of our consciousness Before we reap the products Of its bold liberation and grandness Its the belly of the beast And its hungry Insatiable, amoral entrails Hoping to salvage a feast From the casualties of d(e)moc(ratic) wars Hoping we feed our monstrous fear Thirsting for the greed Dripping off of accumulating wealths Impatiently waiting, we keep parceling out grudges Disfiguring our minds, our souls, and our bodies Its misanthropic nature lashes out without conscience Knowing we'll never realize we are masses Disappearing the individuals who realize their suffering Ensuring there's no collective opposition or action Trying to reassure we are weak Knowing at some point or another We all act mute, deaf, and blind when anyone experiences: Oppression Pain Silencing **** Hunger Fear Violence Repression Retaliation Discrimination Torture Negation Alienation All forms of mental, psychological, physical, and spiritual mutilation Fearing death more than fighting for necessary abolishment Preferring to live out our veiled miseries Endorsing their continuance Instead of risking our lives for everyone's liberation Always ensuring the feast of the beast By its very efforts trying to decree our very human nature Ingraining greed, fear, animosity, and weakness as if inherent of us All parts of its most damaging weapon: the seed of discord Its implantation, a socialized deep desire for self-preservation Sheep bleating painfully toward our ears Vultures flying up ahead Circling a bald eagle's fresh corpse Signifying the impending recapturing Of our true transformative desires
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60
redefining awkward definiens endorsing victorious evening clamoring hawk-like intonations conjecturing additional goals optimizing ambient network winning illinoisan night trapping hacked-up events warping æsthetic remnants resuming inaudible overture rallying auric-state net-work defying anti-punk technophobia eliminating cavalier homies! minding icelandic anniversary winging ersatz excuses kicking ecstatic nerves denying lackadaisical event questioning upper echelons brûlant en calice
0
Sep 7, 2015
Sep 7, 2015 at 11:18 AM UTC
201506-w3
Pride dug a hole in their relationship Deeper and deeper they dug Silence was the casket they fell in No echos of love Endorsing anger as their new form of emotion Blaming each other like old fools Manipulated souls Feeling destroyed as pride became their voice of reason Leaving no choice Obeying it as they both chose to be (right) no love (left) Promises ignored Both robbed of happiness Pride introduced them to emptiness Both stressed and depressed Seeking validation for their emotions Turning to negativity to find satisfaction The devil between them Comfortably cuddling with their souls Creating a divided union lacking a destination pride left them Lost with no direction Pride destroyed their beautiful connection It destroyed their promises and hopes for a bright future Suffering to see the sunlight while living in darkness
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Jul 11, 2018
Jul 11, 2018 at 8:36 AM UTC
Pride (hurt)
A world convulsed at fallacious lies, With a pensive reality, And caliginous skies. A night as dark as the depths of hell, Malignant capabilities, Your sinister voice I know too well. Due to your influence, I have become oblique. Dreading all the words That you speak. Am I truly the one you seek? Now I have prospected and also detected That the only way to be consummate Is to remain idyllic, and appreciate The taciturnity you’ve effected I apprehended That I should have escaped while I could But I pretended Like I misunderstood That you were do good. You insanity was cloaked by a hood. I’m not endorsing you to deliver my downfall, Aforementioned here, is my last stand. Absent from reality I’ve become, Just to plummet down this peak once more, Due to the careless vivacity of the fellow that is blind, to his doings unkind. And now, all you do is provoke The constant fear that I have chosen the wrong bloke. And for this I have frozen A friendship that was golden. I really shouldn’t crave you but for some reason I can’t abdicate.
0
Jan 17, 2012
Jan 17, 2012 at 11:43 PM UTC
The Common Adversary
I can hear metallic words emerging from your lips All throughout the best part of my day Inviting all my inner focus to your bitter uproar Endorsing all my resolve to move away Your brash recklessness cast dark shadows down Of great anguish and unbearable distress As you continuously violate all of my emotions With all this agitation you profess You seem to find the greatest of comfort In confessing all your misery But I find myself totally unsympathetic To your persistent verbal parodies So if you stop and wonder why, I am no longer here If you are uncertain of the very reason Take a good listen to yourself and you will see why My emotions are no longer in your open hunting season
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Jul 15, 2010
Jul 15, 2010 at 6:22 PM UTC
Open Season
Ate a plate of whey, with the weight of the nation on my shoulder blade, away from any destination so underpaid, my paychecks archaic not even a quarter to go to arcades with it’s outrageous! misery must be contagious haven’t seen happy faces in ages It may just be time to vacate break out like rosacea to the golden gate every swig of this whiskey brings me to a bolder state like Colorado i weighed my options and hopped in my Silverado like a desperado full of bravado with the bottle, feeling tipsy now though singing in staccato **** an intervention’   time to get uncertain, speed full throttle towards the intersection   laughing and swerving through the red light cursing and yelling interjections with a bottle of bourbon horns blaring, it’s deafening my middle finger ascending just struck a deaf person no ***** giving i’m out of my mind, livid get hired and fired in 5 minutes from any job i was given i’m tired of living no one even knew i existed until i started whizzing through traffic causing collisions, now i’m forcing decisions on residents w/ moral convictions who’d rather see me oral constricted then remain mortal in prison got these ******* endorsing petitions to have me executed by poison injection shot, hung, electrified, the above all mentioned and did i mention- My backseat looks like a knife convention there’s an array of switchblades i had since fifth grade’s declension Sketching art on the desk while serving detention some kind of wonderful, no eternal reflection i’m reflecting as i smashed into a connection and see my reflection in the water as i’m descending slow motion like deception my body is in all different positions of flexion this is met with favorable reception hear the crowd’s exhilaration i’m unwilling to indulge in anymore retrospection just waiting to hear the splash and waves crash then….
0
Jul 14, 2014
Jul 14, 2014 at 5:18 PM UTC
dRUNk drivINg inTO deaTHs evErglowing LIGHT
Ate a plate of whey, with the weight of the nation on my shoulder blade, away from any destination so underpaid, my paychecks archaic not even a quarter to go to arcades with it’s outrageous! misery must be contagious haven’t seen happy faces in ages It may just be time to vacate break out like rosacea to the golden gate every swig of this whiskey brings me to a bolder state like Colorado i weighed my options and hopped in my Silverado like a desperado full of bravado with the bottle, feeling tipsy now though singing in staccato **** an intervention’   time to get uncertain, speed full throttle towards the intersection   laughing and swerving through the red light cursing and yelling interjections with a bottle of bourbon horns blaring, it’s deafening my middle finger ascending just struck a deaf person no ***** giving i’m out of my mind, livid get hired and fired in 5 minutes from any job i was given i’m tired of living no one even knew i existed until i started whizzing through traffic causing collisions, now i’m forcing decisions on residents w/ moral convictions who’d rather see me oral constricted then remain mortal in prison got these ******* endorsing petitions to have me executed by poison injection shot, hung, electrified, the above all mentioned and did i mention- My backseat looks like a knife convention there’s an array of switchblades i had since fifth grade’s declension Sketching art on the desk while serving detention some kind of wonderful, no eternal reflection i’m reflecting as i smashed into a connection and see my reflection in the water as i’m descending slow motion like deception my body is in all different positions of flexion this is met with favorable reception hear the crowd’s exhilaration i’m unwilling to indulge in anymore retrospection just waiting to hear the splash and waves crash then….
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53
VI Several hours to the nearest coast away for a night and day is all our landlocked lives would allow. That first time we arrived at night, down the steepest hill to the road’s end, to wind and rain, and a hardly visible sea. Then up three steep stairs we climbed, to that attic room where opening its window on a November night we sat in its deep-silled space to see the waves seething below us, waves vying for room in a bay crowded with rolling forms of water eager to break and fling out foam and **** spray and stone. Later and despite the rain we walked the length of a beach so dark our shoes could hardly guide us home. Always the incessant sounding sea. High above a drama of moon and clouds throwing jagged shadows on the wet sand. Caught in this play of natural things how could we not hold these images ever closer to the imagination’s heart? VII I’ve come again to my favourite place: below the coarse grass landward, above the wet sand seaward. This zone of discovery, my well-found land of treasure, rich in bewildering textures. Some of it I could do without, but even the plastic is beguilingly ornamental. I carry with this bag of mine my third eye. I will collect and even curate (in the field) ephemeral exhibitions on suitable surfaces. Never camera-shy these found objects. Later, they may appear on my studio table, or pinned against the wall, then primed with carborundum on a collographic plate, stilled into life for the purposes of art. Whatever the object may be, it carries my tide-mark, a quality sign endorsing a choice made on a deserted beach, and proved to be right when placed in my hand. It registers rightful ownership. Who knows, one day it might embody something more than an image of itself.
0
Jul 10, 2013
Jul 10, 2013 at 2:51 AM UTC
Tide Marks #6 - 7
VI Several hours to the nearest coast away for a night and day is all our landlocked lives would allow. That first time we arrived at night, down the steepest hill to the road’s end, to wind and rain, and a hardly visible sea. Then up three steep stairs we climbed, to that attic room where opening its window on a November night we sat in its deep-silled space to see the waves seething below us, waves vying for room in a bay crowded with rolling forms of water eager to break and fling out foam and **** spray and stone. Later and despite the rain we walked the length of a beach so dark our shoes could hardly guide us home. Always the incessant sounding sea. High above a drama of moon and clouds throwing jagged shadows on the wet sand. Caught in this play of natural things how could we not hold these images ever closer to the imagination’s heart? VII I’ve come again to my favourite place: below the coarse grass landward, above the wet sand seaward. This zone of discovery, my well-found land of treasure, rich in bewildering textures. Some of it I could do without, but even the plastic is beguilingly ornamental. I carry with this bag of mine my third eye. I will collect and even curate (in the field) ephemeral exhibitions on suitable surfaces. Never camera-shy these found objects. Later, they may appear on my studio table, or pinned against the wall, then primed with carborundum on a collographic plate, stilled into life for the purposes of art. Whatever the object may be, it carries my tide-mark, a quality sign endorsing a choice made on a deserted beach, and proved to be right when placed in my hand. It registers rightful ownership. Who knows, one day it might embody something more than an image of itself.
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56
product endorsements are what I like to do and boy have I got a good product for you since I've been wearing the EverFlex brand of shoe endorsing them is all I like to do they've a comfortable fit and on the foot they so nicely sit EverFlex are the kings in the shoe-making vocation and should you not be slipping into a pair your feet won't be sensing elation
0
Mar 10, 2017
Mar 10, 2017 at 6:31 PM UTC
Product Endorsements
A justification is crying out, Not one based on vengeance, But a cause driven by sympathy. Fighting for a simpler life, Ending evil intentions with peace, Endorsing virtue solely for righteous principles. Putting a stop to complicated ways, Eliminating the difficult obstacle course, And opening up all paths in the maze. Practicing an easier world for everyone, Starting by aiding help when assistance is needed, Instead of preaching how hard survival exists on earth. Even though life is a test, No person is on trial just for living, So try to offer the same fair route you value.
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Apr 1, 2017
Apr 1, 2017 at 4:12 AM UTC
Making Life Simpler
. . . T  h  i  s . . . B o u n d l e s s  ocean of  life And in roses imageries of you and me   O’ sparks of your beauty I am yearning to see Face to face, if you raised those beautiful eyes, at me Heavenly niche of hearts would cause the shadows to flee My tongue soaked in bouquets of your melody, would set free Odes would fall from movement of sky, endorsing my plea Elegance of your smile, a garden of paradise and it’s key B l o o d  of my heart, O’ red  w i n e  it would be Baring of your  s a c r e d  sight with g l e e M a r v e l   of  fresh blossoms, is it . . . You or me ? . . . ✒ ℐamil Hussain
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Nov 14, 2017
Nov 14, 2017 at 10:35 AM UTC
...Worthy.of.LOVE...
~ Ommm ~ I'm attempting to find inner peace on the top floor of a down town community hall.                    ~ Ommm ~ I can hear the anxious siren of an ambulance; its tone stretched out by the sound waves that fail to keep up.                   ~ Ommm        Focus on your breathing... ~ For an apparently relaxation endorsing pose right now I feel very uncomfortable.                   ~ Ommm        Look towards your inner eye.        See the beam of bright, white light shine        From your third eye.         See the bright light...  ~ I can't see it, are there special opticians For people who can't see through their third eye. Maybe I don't have a third eye... Oh no, I don't think I have a third eye!                   ~ Ommm          Focus of your breathing...          Focus on the bright light         radiating from your inner eye... ~ Okay I think I've found it, is that it?!           ~  You should follow along                towards the golden temple,                Step forward.               And with each step               focus on the feeling               of the fresh, green grass               beneath your feet. ~ My right foot has serious pins and needles! Don't think about it! Don't think about it!         ~ Your left foot is your Karma,            Your right foot, your Dharma            With each step focus on the feeling            of the fresh, green grass beneath your feet... ~ My Dharma has serious pins a needles! Ouch, ouch, ouch! Don't think about it! Don't think about it!                                                            ~ Ommm ~ I need to move but I don't wanna disrupt my zone of inner peace. Ouch, ouch, ouch!                       ~ Step into the pool               and feel yourself melt within it.          And lose the sense of having ****** form                  Float into the nothingness.                    Drift off into the water...  ~ I wonder if there are inner eye lifeguards For the little imagination people who can't swim.               ~  Focus on your breathing ~ Pins and needles! Ouch ouch ouch! Maybe if I wiggle my toes a bit...        ~ Gradually come back to the sense of having a body.                  Feel yourself being bought back to life.                                   You are re-born. ~ Re-born?! Well, if you say so but My right foot is proper dead right now.                              ~ Ommm                    Keep gently breathing... ~ And now I better brace myself for the many uncomfortable, complicated poses that we will manipulate our bodies into...                              ~ Ommm ~ That distract us temporarily from the manic metropolis chaos that's buzzing right outside the windows.                                ~ Ommm           Stretch out and breathe in that beautiful prana ~ The dusty air, choked with car fumes and the diesel engine hum of the noisy dockyard nearby.                                  ~ Ommm ~
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Oct 23, 2017
Oct 23, 2017 at 6:45 PM UTC
Ommm – a journey towards inner peace while suffering with acute pins and needles in one foot.
~ Ommm ~ I'm attempting to find inner peace on the top floor of a down town community hall.                    ~ Ommm ~ I can hear the anxious siren of an ambulance; its tone stretched out by the sound waves that fail to keep up.                   ~ Ommm        Focus on your breathing... ~ For an apparently relaxation endorsing pose right now I feel very uncomfortable.                   ~ Ommm        Look towards your inner eye.        See the beam of bright, white light shine        From your third eye.         See the bright light...  ~ I can't see it, are there special opticians For people who can't see through their third eye. Maybe I don't have a third eye... Oh no, I don't think I have a third eye!                   ~ Ommm          Focus of your breathing...          Focus on the bright light         radiating from your inner eye... ~ Okay I think I've found it, is that it?!           ~  You should follow along                towards the golden temple,                Step forward.               And with each step               focus on the feeling               of the fresh, green grass               beneath your feet. ~ My right foot has serious pins and needles! Don't think about it! Don't think about it!         ~ Your left foot is your Karma,            Your right foot, your Dharma            With each step focus on the feeling            of the fresh, green grass beneath your feet... ~ My Dharma has serious pins a needles! Ouch, ouch, ouch! Don't think about it! Don't think about it!                                                            ~ Ommm ~ I need to move but I don't wanna disrupt my zone of inner peace. Ouch, ouch, ouch!                       ~ Step into the pool               and feel yourself melt within it.          And lose the sense of having ****** form                  Float into the nothingness.                    Drift off into the water...  ~ I wonder if there are inner eye lifeguards For the little imagination people who can't swim.               ~  Focus on your breathing ~ Pins and needles! Ouch ouch ouch! Maybe if I wiggle my toes a bit...        ~ Gradually come back to the sense of having a body.                  Feel yourself being bought back to life.                                   You are re-born. ~ Re-born?! Well, if you say so but My right foot is proper dead right now.                              ~ Ommm                    Keep gently breathing... ~ And now I better brace myself for the many uncomfortable, complicated poses that we will manipulate our bodies into...                              ~ Ommm ~ That distract us temporarily from the manic metropolis chaos that's buzzing right outside the windows.                                ~ Ommm           Stretch out and breathe in that beautiful prana ~ The dusty air, choked with car fumes and the diesel engine hum of the noisy dockyard nearby.                                  ~ Ommm ~
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75
I. This bridge spans two worlds... No, two realities, though where gone?! Mirrors the mythological beauty of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon Endorsing the clout and stoicism of Zeus's Statue on Mount Olympus Parallels the grieving love that built the Mausoleum of Halicarnassus Evokes the envy of the world as did the Great Library of Alexandria Rescues forlorn souls, unrivaled since the Lighthouse of Alexandria Embodies Giza's Pyramid's genius and their incorporated golden ratios Shorter lived and more vulnerable than the Colossus of Rhodes       Most impressive, though, is that this bridge was only built by two          Abandoned the 8th wonder of the ancient world... Dare who? II. Horatius Cocles, sole guardian of its last half, despairs at the disrepair.     Mind forever enveloped and enthralled by shadow's legendary glare! Horatius Cocles, despondent, knowing that glory days are long lost,    but more so bearing knowledge that Venus will never once more cross! Horatius Cocles, tortured by this bridge, yet impotent to torch it ablaze.    Disabled evermore by visceral love, yet would do it all the same.
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May 24, 2018
May 24, 2018 at 6:46 PM UTC
8th Wonder of The Ancient World
As i shape stanzas, Adam Lanzas **** the cameras, in glamorous stands up, against the manners of actors, in the matters of forgotten factors, in a world gone bananas, I still cant stand us, even when we are dead. I have tried every side of the bed to no diligence unchecked, in a nervous wreck of annoyance coining in and destroying it, for a bonus, its bogus to know us, but i'm owning it yet, with no regrets and loose concepts to be swept to ***** and on my feet. I'm obsolete, and my talk is cheaper than most, as i host my feats in a single page, post heathen faze incomplete, as it is only so lonely in the frozen face of flattery, where i may fill my battery, but nothing more, in boring affordability, storing dreams for safe keeping to a later day that may never be, but hey, what does it matter anyway, i will either be, or not be. I may be just lapsing in luxury, rupturing the subtlety of my structuring around the scars of brain parts too far to reach. Lets meet on middle grounds with silent screams and loose eyes, fiddling the sounds and singing for the criers, expiring behind less than inspiring doors. I am just bored, praising the lords of a more recordable source, reliably on course, with a deplorable force, endorsing the chores of servitude, never meaning to be rude, as i enjoy my solitude, while in the employ of the gratitude for what i got, but im not... That boy anymore, my wonder turned wandering and i will never be that baby again, nor alone, so let go, in knowing the flow can be trusted in showing us something more, said the slave to his ***** before a morbid torrent to show her core to the floor of a showroom, vacuumed into space, awakening to the fate, of monotonous finality, praying to randomly generated gods, for the fogs of war... or anthing more, than this.
0
Dec 26, 2012
Dec 26, 2012 at 1:46 PM UTC
Drozer
As i shape stanzas, Adam Lanzas **** the cameras, in glamorous stands up, against the manners of actors, in the matters of forgotten factors, in a world gone bananas, I still cant stand us, even when we are dead. I have tried every side of the bed to no diligence unchecked, in a nervous wreck of annoyance coining in and destroying it, for a bonus, its bogus to know us, but i'm owning it yet, with no regrets and loose concepts to be swept to ***** and on my feet. I'm obsolete, and my talk is cheaper than most, as i host my feats in a single page, post heathen faze incomplete, as it is only so lonely in the frozen face of flattery, where i may fill my battery, but nothing more, in boring affordability, storing dreams for safe keeping to a later day that may never be, but hey, what does it matter anyway, i will either be, or not be. I may be just lapsing in luxury, rupturing the subtlety of my structuring around the scars of brain parts too far to reach. Lets meet on middle grounds with silent screams and loose eyes, fiddling the sounds and singing for the criers, expiring behind less than inspiring doors. I am just bored, praising the lords of a more recordable source, reliably on course, with a deplorable force, endorsing the chores of servitude, never meaning to be rude, as i enjoy my solitude, while in the employ of the gratitude for what i got, but im not... That boy anymore, my wonder turned wandering and i will never be that baby again, nor alone, so let go, in knowing the flow can be trusted in showing us something more, said the slave to his ***** before a morbid torrent to show her core to the floor of a showroom, vacuumed into space, awakening to the fate, of monotonous finality, praying to randomly generated gods, for the fogs of war... or anthing more, than this.
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7
twitchley body funds my eyesight, endorsing social security of the mind-- the free market of my inhibitions deci des to monopolize the rights to my soul as a crown corporation but we'll nationa lize again again with the help of shock d octrine-- flinching in the light you called the office of internal affairs regarding mat ters of the heart, but but but it was left to open classrooms to tell you what and how to live yer life, and nothing more. who kee ps anyone different? who holds them to sim ilar? what makes me no h2o and what mak es you no granite? because last night we cal led you drunk and you called us sober. no one picked up the comments and no one pic ked up the phone. crippled and meaningless, nihilism felt obliged to die. i felt obliged to die. i felt obliged to leave myself alone, or risk seei ng me again. the noose cooperated and collapsed and collapsed, and collapsed. this is not a suicide note. it is a sidenote and you will find me beating deep inside yer chest.
0
Jan 17, 2014
Jan 17, 2014 at 8:46 PM UTC
please try again later
Painfully  the  heart  beats the  chest,   Ember  of  lineal  segregation  will  come  out,   And  the  ripping  blaze of fire  will  engulf,   Communal  harmony  consummating  peaceful  coexistence  gulf,   Executing  ethnicity,  caste, creed  and  religion  smithereens.   Patriot’s  spirit  yields  serene  backdrops,  Everyone  permanently  scribbling  down the  tales,   And  if  we  don’t  improve  the  stories,   Coming generations will  be  forced  to  clean up our mess,   Ending  up  in  the  question  “what is  peace?”   Peace  is  simply forgiveness,   End  of  hate,  war  or  violence,   Abstinence  of  using  violence  to  show  our  emotions,   Calming  silence,   Endeavor to  have  unity  in  diversity.   Portrayal  of  Kenya’s flag  is  peace,   Entailing  every  magic  spell  of  her  climate,  history  and  culture,   Appraised  by  her  quick succession  of seasons,   Culminated  by  the  gentle  sun  and  benign  rain  that softens  the  mind,   Endorsing  peace  naturally.   Wishing a peaceful 2017 General Elections in Kenya.
0
Jul 30, 2017
Jul 30, 2017 at 1:21 AM UTC
MAGICAL KENYA'S PEACE
Morning is a trigger to activate the awakening normative Prior to such a tradition was endorsing the night of sedative Temptation pressures me to remain with the sleep of comfort But day is none other than a truce between light and alert Leave the bed I must and forward to the room of ****** nurture The kitchen is the place to cope past the room filled with furniture Upon the counter I shall set my coffee to rest with the breeze Bacon is part of the morning nurture I shall extract from the freeze Inside the toaster shall be two bread slices facing the slow roast Alongside the swine's flesh shreds are eggs from the chicken host Products of meat shall cook upon the range until come the full stop This morning meal shall I consume when done its use on the countertop
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Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 3:52 PM UTC
The Kitchen Counter
I have tried to give birth to a new and improved version of my vision Exulting blips of exactitude and ambition Flashes of pretension on a screen of pending dreams Lacking mobility and projection Inertia writhes I'm mainly advertising trying to sell and intrigue To those who have enough eloquence to persuade my predilection and schemes Endorsing me providing lifelines and pure consciousness Lacking the force of extorted themes and exulting worthiness Cleansing my mind of the mocking bird's trash heap Help me dissemble the falsified declarations and professions of fiends I want to be pristine I beg thee to teach and galvanize me Endowing me with inexorable sight Keeping me keen and full of bold might I am willing to fight Bring me to the surface of these turbulent seas No need to mention my frailties and anxieties All I ask is a breath from the surface of true realities The urgency constrains my needs for rejuvenation and appreciations For all those little beautiful things that once meant the world to me Like pink carnations Sleeplessness morphs into spells of insomnious hauntings Stunting my contractions It's completely and utterly exhausting A labor deprived of true initiative and wanting It may sound silly but everything is contradictory It is these pains that leave me incomplete, ineffectual, and in paralyzing omission Excluded and feeling great depths of oppression Despairing and kept in solitary confinement Suffering more than I'd like to profess Distressing the matters that cave into my chest An infiltration of insurmountable anguish Abolished Untouched by a shoulder or hand of accommodation Is it selfish to push for this magnitude of isolation? I crave cultivation I want to grow into the Giant Sequoia But the fires of self doubt leave my branches in ruins Smoke signals sending sirens A constant affliction It's all my own doing Contingency pleading for nourishment Somehow knowing thee and ye could constitute for something of legends Tell that to our reflections Or maybe it's the fear of fire that terminates our pregnancy Causing us to introvert instead of projecting Withholding both you and I from mastery
0
Feb 16, 2014
Feb 16, 2014 at 9:12 PM UTC
Birth
I have tried to give birth to a new and improved version of my vision Exulting blips of exactitude and ambition Flashes of pretension on a screen of pending dreams Lacking mobility and projection Inertia writhes I'm mainly advertising trying to sell and intrigue To those who have enough eloquence to persuade my predilection and schemes Endorsing me providing lifelines and pure consciousness Lacking the force of extorted themes and exulting worthiness Cleansing my mind of the mocking bird's trash heap Help me dissemble the falsified declarations and professions of fiends I want to be pristine I beg thee to teach and galvanize me Endowing me with inexorable sight Keeping me keen and full of bold might I am willing to fight Bring me to the surface of these turbulent seas No need to mention my frailties and anxieties All I ask is a breath from the surface of true realities The urgency constrains my needs for rejuvenation and appreciations For all those little beautiful things that once meant the world to me Like pink carnations Sleeplessness morphs into spells of insomnious hauntings Stunting my contractions It's completely and utterly exhausting A labor deprived of true initiative and wanting It may sound silly but everything is contradictory It is these pains that leave me incomplete, ineffectual, and in paralyzing omission Excluded and feeling great depths of oppression Despairing and kept in solitary confinement Suffering more than I'd like to profess Distressing the matters that cave into my chest An infiltration of insurmountable anguish Abolished Untouched by a shoulder or hand of accommodation Is it selfish to push for this magnitude of isolation? I crave cultivation I want to grow into the Giant Sequoia But the fires of self doubt leave my branches in ruins Smoke signals sending sirens A constant affliction It's all my own doing Contingency pleading for nourishment Somehow knowing thee and ye could constitute for something of legends Tell that to our reflections Or maybe it's the fear of fire that terminates our pregnancy Causing us to introvert instead of projecting Withholding both you and I from mastery
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Black glass Hugged by plastic. A rigid, shiny stone, Holy and smooth as silk. It calls upon you. Its dark face glowing with glee, its still form trembling in tantrum. Eyes gawk eagerly while dexterously trained fingers Slide their grease-stained trail across its blossoming surface, trapped in vanity. A technological marvel, one might say, it’s glistening roads worshipped and Truly wondrous. All the images: moving, smiling, addicting. The knowledge of the universe, packed into a tiny, plastic cocoon, festering, growing, evolving, eager to be eaten. Endorsing gluttonous laze, and Unmasking humanity’s unseemly colors; it lulls you in with its digital spindle embrace, the sharp strings of data reaching in through the eyes and touching the optic nerve. Neurons swell in ecstasy, pupils dilate, the heart screams; matter of the brain catches fire in its electrical storm, and cascades into chemical ****** Satiating a toxic lust. Brilliant glass turns to black, stuck to your hand like glue.
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Sep 14, 2017
Sep 14, 2017 at 9:11 AM UTC
Virtual Silk
You say you’d cry, If my eyes went dark Say your world will die If death makes its mark— On me, your child, I swear, To watch you from above– wiping your tears The cause for my fate— you would not bare I apologize for endorsing your fears Don’t worry, don’t cry It’s not time to say goodbye I promise to try But please, don’t rely— On an Oath, so hollow So easy to break But still I beg you, do not follow— For joining me will not heal your ache
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Apr 28, 2025
Apr 28, 2025 at 3:59 PM UTC
If my eyes went dark
proud parent of a closeted gay kid my honour student has clinical depression crybaby on board if you can read this, this is the closest thing to intimacy i have experienced in weeks the voting system is a fraud. i think we should reconsider the infrastructure of the american government before endorsing a candidate via the back of our vehicles how's my driving? validate me please i'm so sad
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Jul 28, 2017
Jul 28, 2017 at 3:21 AM UTC
bumper stickers
Outwriting insecurity each word tears down the wall Endorsing his humanity thoughts into feelings fall The truth beyond the shadows unspoken in the light Waiting for a voice set free that makes it —through the night (The New Room: November, 2023)
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Nov 12, 2023
Nov 12, 2023 at 10:56 AM UTC
Beyond The Shadows
I hear you're going through a rough time Returning to your roots, watching life pass by Endorsing your own importance, until the last of july So they'll keep you alive somehow, you'll never die Everybody wants to think, life is really fair Everybody wants to think, that they really care Wait as their smile trickles down your lilac veins Curious you are, but nothing to explain in a space of raspberry canes You're swerving in the open lane while others paint their image in chains The ones you love and the ones you need, you must neglect Journey to the savage and heady places to connect Now what you want is what you prefer to reject What you strive to become is a luminous peacock worm But you're an avian flying with what you've earned
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Jul 20, 2016
Jul 20, 2016 at 1:44 PM UTC
Anthropophia In A Bughouse
I think a lot of my name but little of my signature The letters left bleeding as they die on the page Endorsing a memory in the hearts of my readers The words free of structure —immortality assuaged (Dreamsleep: July 25, 2023)
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Jul 25, 2023
Jul 25, 2023 at 3:37 PM UTC
Free Of Structure