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"ester" poems
Zeus is ****** tonight. Maybe he was having conflict with Hera. Maybe Apollo or Athena or Artemis accidentally attempted to rain art or astuteness or animals down upon Earth, respectively. Maybe he drank too much wine. Whatever the reason is, it's quite a light show. There are no stars, only the chemiluminescence on my shirt and my shorts that were poured upon me by intoxicated partiers who thought it would be entertaining to shower the combination of peroxide and phenyl oxalate ester upon the party guests. A map of the universe is splattered across my hands. It's as if Zeus threw away the sky, in an inebriated gesture, and it landed around me. Cronus should have swallowed the father of gods and of men whole.
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Aug 6, 2011
Aug 6, 2011 at 9:31 PM UTC
Zeus
[Hook: Ester Dean] Voices in the air I hear them loud and clear Telling me to listen Whispers in my ear Nothing can compare I just wanna listen [Verse 1: MGK] As my, world turns The heart beats Not only in my chest But the heart in these streets So when they feel this, they feel me But I can't feel nothin', outside these dre beats I am from the city of evil, came from the bottom Standing on top of what was supposed to be my coffin, whats up? Inception shows me as a dead man walkin', but reflections shows this kid's still got it Let it be known I got the throne like I don't know that there's a king Never grew up around a family because I'm not a human being And anyone under my level that’s coming at my spot for the top Let them have it, cause when I leave, the whole world drops Lace up Kells [Hook] I hear voices in the air I hear em’ loud and clear Telling me to listen Whispers in my ear Nothing can compare I just want to listen Telling me I am Invincible (3x) - oh oh Telling me I am Invincible (3x) - oh oh I am [Verse 2] Waking up sweatin from the stress of being caged down Everything I write is played out like what is this ? Tear the whole page out Man I come from holes in the wall but they don’t know the path Even if I told them it all, they wouldn't know the half So maybe I fill up my luggage with all of these dreams and put on my black coat and my black chucks and nothing in my jeans And just run, till the day comes like Rocky’s movie scene And I’m on top of the world, look up and scream like this is me, this is Kells Crucified by the public without the nails Do or die in my city but clearly I never failed Lost myself in the game when I found myself in a cell Then I found myself in the fame when I lost myself in the pills And you cannot mess with me still , seen them boys and they winnin Underdogs of the year Cleveland boys in the buildin' What the **** is a ceiling I’m taking this to the top, and when I leave the whole world drops Lace Up Kells [Hook] I hear voices in the air I hear em’ loud and clear Telling me to listen Whispers in my ear nothing can compare I just want to listen Telling me I am Invincible (3x) - oh oh Telling me I am Invincible (3x) - oh oh I am…..
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Nov 27, 2013
Nov 27, 2013 at 2:59 PM UTC
Invincible
[Hook: Ester Dean] Voices in the air I hear them loud and clear Telling me to listen Whispers in my ear Nothing can compare I just wanna listen [Verse 1: MGK] As my, world turns The heart beats Not only in my chest But the heart in these streets So when they feel this, they feel me But I can't feel nothin', outside these dre beats I am from the city of evil, came from the bottom Standing on top of what was supposed to be my coffin, whats up? Inception shows me as a dead man walkin', but reflections shows this kid's still got it Let it be known I got the throne like I don't know that there's a king Never grew up around a family because I'm not a human being And anyone under my level that’s coming at my spot for the top Let them have it, cause when I leave, the whole world drops Lace up Kells [Hook] I hear voices in the air I hear em’ loud and clear Telling me to listen Whispers in my ear Nothing can compare I just want to listen Telling me I am Invincible (3x) - oh oh Telling me I am Invincible (3x) - oh oh I am [Verse 2] Waking up sweatin from the stress of being caged down Everything I write is played out like what is this ? Tear the whole page out Man I come from holes in the wall but they don’t know the path Even if I told them it all, they wouldn't know the half So maybe I fill up my luggage with all of these dreams and put on my black coat and my black chucks and nothing in my jeans And just run, till the day comes like Rocky’s movie scene And I’m on top of the world, look up and scream like this is me, this is Kells Crucified by the public without the nails Do or die in my city but clearly I never failed Lost myself in the game when I found myself in a cell Then I found myself in the fame when I lost myself in the pills And you cannot mess with me still , seen them boys and they winnin Underdogs of the year Cleveland boys in the buildin' What the **** is a ceiling I’m taking this to the top, and when I leave the whole world drops Lace Up Kells [Hook] I hear voices in the air I hear em’ loud and clear Telling me to listen Whispers in my ear nothing can compare I just want to listen Telling me I am Invincible (3x) - oh oh Telling me I am Invincible (3x) - oh oh I am…..
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mister master sister slapped her grabbed your *** faster faster broken plaster alabaster poked your **** faster faster ester asked her my disaster grinning grins faster faster blister blaster such a ******* smacked your mom and faster faster flushed her flashed her dropped my pants sir kiss my *** faster faster
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Jun 19, 2010
Jun 19, 2010 at 6:05 PM UTC
*******
Kalanchoë, finally you bloom! Welcome little foreigner, To the corner of my room. With frangipani flame And crocus-gold effulgent. Strains past succulent skin Joyous, ebullient! Though your petals grow Just to hold it in, Fiery blood escapes Past watery blocks of ester-swell And you exult with me In a wintry cell.
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Aug 14, 2018
Aug 14, 2018 at 3:02 PM UTC
Kalanchoë
She brought me flowers that performed my nose with an ester scent, By each second as i completely laid dead Lost in my own Casket; wishing I was alive just to place her tears back in her eyes, Wishing I could feel her breath hit my skin as I but try to fight the atmosphere for nothing but sweet Oxygen She held tight onto my Tombstone and Said "Baby my heart you won, Awake your corpse and come make love to me like a real man" For years, i have been in this shell and such sweet words make a heaven out of my hell Although i am gone, Her love never dies Although she has a man, her heart shouts only my name My Romantic ***** I pray god gives me a second chance to put on a show
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Apr 4, 2017
Apr 4, 2017 at 3:00 PM UTC
ROMANTIC *****
*a patient walks into a doctor's office and says: - doctor, doctor, i'm suffering from diabolical laughter! doctor replies: - just keep on laughing.* they're really truly atheists on an atomic level, the more they try to live outside of nature, and glorify it, the more damnable they come: put them peering into a microscope or a telescope the more their audacity builds up, but when an earthquake, but when an earthquake, when a storm, when a hurricane, all the intellectuals disperse, the pathetic state of drowning, the pathetic state of any form of suffering, you'll only find atheistic audacity among biologists, chemists and physicists the middle-men of argumentation, biology appeals to the general public, as expressed by confusion in the ***** region of things... transgender this, transgender that, the ploy of the heterosexual: it's only natural via a surrogate mother, and a human heart grown in a pig's body... while chemists construct the next ester of shampoo or fishy bacon, or the next biggie boom boom, while physicists are out there with the quote: now i'm become death, the destroyer of worlds, but can't stop the moon in its tract... or bother with the near apparent biggie boom boom of saltpetre, sulphur and charcoal, they make the explosions too big... too much of a Hiroshima, too much of a Nagasaki... Hollywood is still dreaming of the Manhattan Project, it's constantly terrorising america... Hollywood is constantly out on a Jihad to culture-corrupt with a constant sense of paranoia... it's always destroying cities... big **** monsters or some odd german accented 'simon says, simon says...' but they changed location, now double-decker buses are exploding on parliament bridge... so the kids know of it, a day late, a day after the explosion on twitter. or as i once said, when that famous tsunami hit japan... 'where was the army dropping bombs on the wave to disperse it and disallow its movement onto the mainland? they could have bombed that wave into oblivion... instead some other army, in some other country decided it required a tsunami of blood to pour into other countries via the streams of journalism.'
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Feb 14, 2016
Feb 14, 2016 at 3:19 AM UTC
not siding with biologists
*a patient walks into a doctor's office and says: - doctor, doctor, i'm suffering from diabolical laughter! doctor replies: - just keep on laughing.* they're really truly atheists on an atomic level, the more they try to live outside of nature, and glorify it, the more damnable they come: put them peering into a microscope or a telescope the more their audacity builds up, but when an earthquake, but when an earthquake, when a storm, when a hurricane, all the intellectuals disperse, the pathetic state of drowning, the pathetic state of any form of suffering, you'll only find atheistic audacity among biologists, chemists and physicists the middle-men of argumentation, biology appeals to the general public, as expressed by confusion in the ***** region of things... transgender this, transgender that, the ploy of the heterosexual: it's only natural via a surrogate mother, and a human heart grown in a pig's body... while chemists construct the next ester of shampoo or fishy bacon, or the next biggie boom boom, while physicists are out there with the quote: now i'm become death, the destroyer of worlds, but can't stop the moon in its tract... or bother with the near apparent biggie boom boom of saltpetre, sulphur and charcoal, they make the explosions too big... too much of a Hiroshima, too much of a Nagasaki... Hollywood is still dreaming of the Manhattan Project, it's constantly terrorising america... Hollywood is constantly out on a Jihad to culture-corrupt with a constant sense of paranoia... it's always destroying cities... big **** monsters or some odd german accented 'simon says, simon says...' but they changed location, now double-decker buses are exploding on parliament bridge... so the kids know of it, a day late, a day after the explosion on twitter. or as i once said, when that famous tsunami hit japan... 'where was the army dropping bombs on the wave to disperse it and disallow its movement onto the mainland? they could have bombed that wave into oblivion... instead some other army, in some other country decided it required a tsunami of blood to pour into other countries via the streams of journalism.'
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The deranged man prepares his own mask And designs it to show his true face For too long the world has been black and white And now he has decided to brighten his existence Walking through the doors with a insidious smile on his mask Two guns buried beneath his coat in the midst of summer His anxiety transforms into elation like water into ester As he recalls the day he first rejected propaganda Multiple gun shots reminiscent of an opera hall symphony Uncontrollable laughter between the endless barrel explosions His heart warms and he first begins to feel the feeling of love As the ****** rejection of conformity never felt so gratifying 57 bodies lay now devoid of duplicitous propaganda The sane man removes his deranged mask And revels in his good deed to the world Screams and sirens express the degradation of conformity As the sane man delivers just one more round into his sane mind And leaves a world of insane people With 57 other friends.
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Aug 17, 2014
Aug 17, 2014 at 7:06 PM UTC
Ester
Bending grass and rolling hill Caress my palms and make me still Essence of the floras' ester Tickle my nostrils; nose and pester
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Apr 3, 2019
Apr 3, 2019 at 8:50 AM UTC
Hills
Three corrupted men Lurking through the night They feel safe because they think they have their right Groped a minor and said it'll be alright Covered some stains Just to hide their nasty remain Tried make a public apology to their crime Yet the minor they groped they paid and promised to be a mime Defended by their colleague What a shame ester and joe, Known to be a famous comedian Yet they made Deliah's story a joke Until now they're convicted We all know that uncle changed the system Even though the true story were written And there it goes people didn't believe to the victim The minor got traumatized Her brain and body got paralyzed She were gone wrong and despised And decided after 4 years of trauma she planned to suicide.
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Mar 28, 2020
Mar 28, 2020 at 1:00 AM UTC
Corrupted
a wafer on a bee that said enough to her workers how this milky flavor with pone would butterfly the Queen as Ester said a ruleless bunch there was made of gold in mambo
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Jul 23, 2020
Jul 23, 2020 at 9:59 AM UTC
Mambo
Twisting, traveling tongue tastes passionate pink parted places easily enjoying each exceptional ester moist muffs munched merrily
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Oct 3, 2016
Oct 3, 2016 at 10:06 PM UTC
Cunning Carnally
#Mordecai (hallowed gatekeeper) triumphs over Haman (gallowed hate-keeper)
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Jan 25, 2018
Jan 25, 2018 at 5:22 PM UTC
Reflections on Ester
It's gloomy, dark, Clouds all marked, With windy hustle, And thundery bustle. The sky turned pale, Fragranced with ester-y smell, And in the watery dale, Paper boats set sail. The weather is wet, But not a slightest hate, Wrapped in a blanket so warm, Safe from the storm's harm. The lightning sparks, Unlade sky of larks, While rustling leaves, Whisper an important eve. All signs of an advent plain, Welcome the drizzling rain, Nature is so happy about, After all, it's raining out.
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Mar 1, 2019
Mar 1, 2019 at 1:52 AM UTC
It's Raining Outside
Echo, Wood nymph of folklore Punished by Goddess Hera Hated, there was no choice Fated, deprived of her voice Repeating words you hear Punishment for a puppeteer You fell in love so you thought With Narcissus But he got caught Looking at his own reflection Turned him into a flower Not his finest hour Leaving Echo lonely and sad For all the cads that Never met a mirror they didn’t like Who’s self-absorbed refection Removes any trace of reflection A thought can be misleading Even if informed by a feeling Don’t think Because you think it it’s true Consider others point of view Don’t think because I disagree There’s something wrong with me Don’t always refer to you Your grandiose style Is just a grandiose denial And while you deny that it’s true Only an echo believes in you Must I echo your words How utterly absurd This I can’t do Even if it displeases you Nothing moves you Except for the powerless, you occasionally feel Let’s you know you’re real And yes The rage is real Hidden so well That no one can tell As you covertly hide from yourself Your histrionics are first rate Always out of date A recording from the past You’d think, you’d have worn out the grooves Of the characters you cast At last There’s never an end To the people I meet All the friends you absorbed Into the persona that’s you Each has a name But there nameless to you I say I know where you got that from You say There’s nothing new under the sun I say What about originality You say Plausible deniability I say I really, really need to get away I say Then, why do you stay? I’m in search of my voice I left it behind In another time I need it Have you seen it It could be Anywhere Under the couch In the closet Under the bed You’re looking in the wrong places The world’s a reflection Of the spaces Between the thoughts Of your stasis. It’s true I’m never alone when I’m with you Like living in a zoo Forgive my sarcasm Lack of enthusiasm That’s what it feels like Being with you. First, you’re uncle Fester Then you’re Grandma Ester Who are you really You don’t know Do You You never looked that far Skin deep Go that deep Take a look What do you see It isn’t me I’m not the object of your hatred I’m not your scapegoat Forgive the diatribe For I am a scribe Looking for her voice. I am Echo no more
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Nov 4, 2018
Nov 4, 2018 at 11:55 AM UTC
Echo and Narcissus
Echo, Wood nymph of folklore Punished by Goddess Hera Hated, there was no choice Fated, deprived of her voice Repeating words you hear Punishment for a puppeteer You fell in love so you thought With Narcissus But he got caught Looking at his own reflection Turned him into a flower Not his finest hour Leaving Echo lonely and sad For all the cads that Never met a mirror they didn’t like Who’s self-absorbed refection Removes any trace of reflection A thought can be misleading Even if informed by a feeling Don’t think Because you think it it’s true Consider others point of view Don’t think because I disagree There’s something wrong with me Don’t always refer to you Your grandiose style Is just a grandiose denial And while you deny that it’s true Only an echo believes in you Must I echo your words How utterly absurd This I can’t do Even if it displeases you Nothing moves you Except for the powerless, you occasionally feel Let’s you know you’re real And yes The rage is real Hidden so well That no one can tell As you covertly hide from yourself Your histrionics are first rate Always out of date A recording from the past You’d think, you’d have worn out the grooves Of the characters you cast At last There’s never an end To the people I meet All the friends you absorbed Into the persona that’s you Each has a name But there nameless to you I say I know where you got that from You say There’s nothing new under the sun I say What about originality You say Plausible deniability I say I really, really need to get away I say Then, why do you stay? I’m in search of my voice I left it behind In another time I need it Have you seen it It could be Anywhere Under the couch In the closet Under the bed You’re looking in the wrong places The world’s a reflection Of the spaces Between the thoughts Of your stasis. It’s true I’m never alone when I’m with you Like living in a zoo Forgive my sarcasm Lack of enthusiasm That’s what it feels like Being with you. First, you’re uncle Fester Then you’re Grandma Ester Who are you really You don’t know Do You You never looked that far Skin deep Go that deep Take a look What do you see It isn’t me I’m not the object of your hatred I’m not your scapegoat Forgive the diatribe For I am a scribe Looking for her voice. I am Echo no more
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