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"evict" poems
I'm having tea with Life, And his band of Disappointments. They dine at my expense, And they're a hungry bunch of guests. Tea turned into Supper, Where the Disappointments drank My finest wine, And Life wiped his cruel mouth On my tablecloth. You can't have supper without dessert, So they ate up more of my Food for thought. And if you stay for dessert, You may as well spend the night. So they did And burgled my pantry of hopes For a midnight snack. One night was lovely, So Life cackled, "Why not stay two?" And two turned to a week, And a week turned into My sickeningly merry guests Moving into my dreams, And inviting in Doubt, To live with them too, And of course Pay no rent. So I watch my chaotic household Of a skull, Where Life has made himself at home And brought all of his friends. I stare dully at my ruined Dining room of thought, Which they have dominated. And look wearily for a spare idea In my raided cupboards. I've never been one To evict friends, So I suppose they're here to stay. But learn a lesson from me, And don't ever Have Life over for tea.
0
Jul 18, 2016
Jul 18, 2016 at 1:38 AM UTC
Tea With Life
*Didn't it sound a lot like something He said a long time ago? Now it makes sense Dripping from honey lips* I lowered the box into the ground Empty but only I knew as much Nothing to see, nothing to touch My own heart was buried deeper down Looking up I saw you shed a tear For all I was laying to rest Was to you a memory blessed A short respite, the re-emergence of fear Or maybe I had it wrong You could have known all along I could have been the one deceived Or maybe I only thought you believed Step back She sings the Mantra Let her finish Before we continue *Hare Krishna ¥ Hare Krishna Krishna Krishna ¥ Rama Rama Hare Rama ¥ Hare Rama Rama Rama ¥ Krishna Krishna* I could tell you reasons for what I've done Before the passion flamed I dreamed her naked, unashamed Innocent as the day was young I thought it was love that drove me on Even when the snake bared it's fangs Injected it's venom of change Convinced my compassion was strong Now I know that it can't be forgiven The arrows pierce you from behind Weaker still your weakened mind And contaminate your imagination Stole a page from God's playbook I'm sorry, my old friend, that you fell But I have ****** myself to hell Just one page was all it took *this end is for me even more than it is for you the fog in the forest is still sickly thick and you can't see the forest for the trees I dragged it out for too long but I know your ignorance is blissful and I don't blame you I'd do the same thing if I were in your shoes* It was my own guilt that stopped me cold Made me think twice of what I'd done I know you'd just soon it go on and on (And on and on) But seeing you so often demeaned is getting so very old ••••••••••••• Cry when you hear the song Crying is often the best thing to do Break down for an hour, in the back of your mind Know it gets better when the grieving is through Don't take anything she said for granted She felt she had good advice But you gotta let it work Learn how to pray Build a fortress around your mind Evict the rogue voices *"This is rebirth The hardest word Held under water This is death I'm out of breath Held under water"            - Dustin Carpenter             "Held Under Water"              (big sleep., 1988)*
0
Jul 20, 2015
Jul 20, 2015 at 12:54 AM UTC
An Apology of Sorts
*Didn't it sound a lot like something He said a long time ago? Now it makes sense Dripping from honey lips* I lowered the box into the ground Empty but only I knew as much Nothing to see, nothing to touch My own heart was buried deeper down Looking up I saw you shed a tear For all I was laying to rest Was to you a memory blessed A short respite, the re-emergence of fear Or maybe I had it wrong You could have known all along I could have been the one deceived Or maybe I only thought you believed Step back She sings the Mantra Let her finish Before we continue *Hare Krishna ¥ Hare Krishna Krishna Krishna ¥ Rama Rama Hare Rama ¥ Hare Rama Rama Rama ¥ Krishna Krishna* I could tell you reasons for what I've done Before the passion flamed I dreamed her naked, unashamed Innocent as the day was young I thought it was love that drove me on Even when the snake bared it's fangs Injected it's venom of change Convinced my compassion was strong Now I know that it can't be forgiven The arrows pierce you from behind Weaker still your weakened mind And contaminate your imagination Stole a page from God's playbook I'm sorry, my old friend, that you fell But I have ****** myself to hell Just one page was all it took *this end is for me even more than it is for you the fog in the forest is still sickly thick and you can't see the forest for the trees I dragged it out for too long but I know your ignorance is blissful and I don't blame you I'd do the same thing if I were in your shoes* It was my own guilt that stopped me cold Made me think twice of what I'd done I know you'd just soon it go on and on (And on and on) But seeing you so often demeaned is getting so very old ••••••••••••• Cry when you hear the song Crying is often the best thing to do Break down for an hour, in the back of your mind Know it gets better when the grieving is through Don't take anything she said for granted She felt she had good advice But you gotta let it work Learn how to pray Build a fortress around your mind Evict the rogue voices *"This is rebirth The hardest word Held under water This is death I'm out of breath Held under water"            - Dustin Carpenter             "Held Under Water"              (big sleep., 1988)*
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71
A breadcrumb I am - the morsel of my old dough,      a piece of chewed bread rotten, missed near a toe, shredded by the sons of righteousness and “normality”,      entombed I am under the carpet to fulfil “morality”. Mum added the yeast for me to grow, as well as flour,      Hoping my crust would golden as a vivid live flower, She sprinkled little salt into me, to know the grimes,      Sugar too, for life brings out the salt to eyes, at times. Dad poured the water, to soften toughness uncalled,      For man is kind too, not merely clay masked, walled - And above all, they added affection and compassion,      They wanted me to satisfy mineself, not one’s ration. Into the oven, 9 minutes, under fire: I show colors,      The warmth turned the heart warm for all others; I am left to rest, to harden the shell and eternal body,      To be perfect as ma and pa wish: not adverse, shoddy. But the stale, unpuffed, unfresh bread of this world,      covets but loathes what is good and not yet twirled, It wishes for me to inhibit mold and evict dignity,     Mais allez, étrange moi, expose me not to malignity. The least of their gurgling sounds puncture heads,      And the weakest of their advice the spirit dreads; The making of me is the capacity of mine flexes,      Your ingredients suit not me, mortals and sexes. Days yearn for you, not this battle of complexes:      You, mine old dough who suddenly “complex” is, My parents baked me on low heat nice and gentle,      And they sear me with words not for me, mental! Know you: Pita, Kmajj, Brioche, Shrak, or Baguette,      Bread is bread, could be different, but it is no threat.
0
Jan 18, 2023
Jan 18, 2023 at 9:27 AM UTC
The Battle of Breads
A breadcrumb I am - the morsel of my old dough,      a piece of chewed bread rotten, missed near a toe, shredded by the sons of righteousness and “normality”,      entombed I am under the carpet to fulfil “morality”. Mum added the yeast for me to grow, as well as flour,      Hoping my crust would golden as a vivid live flower, She sprinkled little salt into me, to know the grimes,      Sugar too, for life brings out the salt to eyes, at times. Dad poured the water, to soften toughness uncalled,      For man is kind too, not merely clay masked, walled - And above all, they added affection and compassion,      They wanted me to satisfy mineself, not one’s ration. Into the oven, 9 minutes, under fire: I show colors,      The warmth turned the heart warm for all others; I am left to rest, to harden the shell and eternal body,      To be perfect as ma and pa wish: not adverse, shoddy. But the stale, unpuffed, unfresh bread of this world,      covets but loathes what is good and not yet twirled, It wishes for me to inhibit mold and evict dignity,     Mais allez, étrange moi, expose me not to malignity. The least of their gurgling sounds puncture heads,      And the weakest of their advice the spirit dreads; The making of me is the capacity of mine flexes,      Your ingredients suit not me, mortals and sexes. Days yearn for you, not this battle of complexes:      You, mine old dough who suddenly “complex” is, My parents baked me on low heat nice and gentle,      And they sear me with words not for me, mental! Know you: Pita, Kmajj, Brioche, Shrak, or Baguette,      Bread is bread, could be different, but it is no threat.
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30
They're scarier than the monsters In closets and under beds They're more terrifying than aliens It's the demons in your head. They go by names, they live through masks Come out to say hello And no matter what drugs you take or ways to leave They'll never truly go. They stick around to start some fun They're college kids at heart Pranks are pulled, and heartstrings too They'll push you back to start. They hide behind emotions Grab at the locks put on the door Open up to raid your thoughts Scream and cry for more. Loneliness kicks like a child If you put him in timeout Anger punches if you look at him He's set up to knock you out. Jealousy seduces every single little thought But looks best with lingerie Envy kisses the tips of your nose To set your happiness astray. Greed just covers up possessions He carries blindness all the time Sadness fills you up with grey Sits down and makes you cry. Fear plays in dark, dank corners Her dress has cloaks of black Her dress spins, and with colors- twirls Until she's ready to attack. They've got different names and synonyms Actually, they're all the same Doctors call it something else So they don't take the blame. Just stick it to the demons That take refuge in our minds Call them out, evict them now Your sanity is running out of time. Don't worry, darling, you're not alone They've got a hold on all us too Kick them out and lock the door Don't answer when they yell 'boo'.
0
Jun 2, 2013
Jun 2, 2013 at 8:20 PM UTC
Nicknames
A poet walks into the coffee shop. He buys a cup, and has a seat. A head walks into the coffee shop. With eyes so gray, like wet concrete. A chick walks into the coffee shop. Her clothes so bizarre, an' tight they fit. A dude walks into the coffee shop. All tattooed, an' a ring through his *** A girl walks into the coffee shop. Her head shaved, to the skin. A homeless one walks into the coffee shop. He looks so bad, wonder where he's been. A straight walks into the coffee shop. Wide eyed, and lookin' around a lot. All wacko's an' weirdo's, at this coffee shop. My kind of people, more likely than not. A rent-a-cop walks into the coffee shop. Ready to evict, those who've finished their last sip. At the coffee shop. I drink my cup-o-joe, an' leave a tip. At the coffee shop.
0
Apr 23, 2016
Apr 23, 2016 at 11:20 AM UTC
AT THE COFFEE SHOP
Revel in space, yet not darkled, still the **** and span of things that breeds airlessness; The trees are evenly cut, and their overgrowth seems like a forethought. Where I am from, we eat fish with our bare hands and our furniture, from bodies of sandalwood, crushed with the scent of peregrines. The morning makes you conscious of space, and altogether the height of trees syncopates to a nauseating stillness. In the awning hours, leaves punctuate the ground – the cicada with its machinistic song prowls, spills like water from a broken vase toppled by me years younger, raw, agile, deftly windless,   wounded in love, lovingly wounded, perhaps if there is a word for it, then let me have my way, easily fraught with its meaning:    a casualty. Sometimes the timeworn folks would light cigarettes underneath the canopy of a mango tree to banish ants and send them back   to their queens – roosters in their wrinkled stations croon in stasis, a song for the somnolent. I become what the seasons evict. Constancy. Rearing weight and gravity from nocturne. Tears are communal. They make us aware of the weight of the Earth. Somewhere, a funebre stilts through the silence, and the jangle of little pieces spells out fortuity, men in huddles mending pain by the sleight of hand, a toss of a card, spinning in its imaginary axis: fate,    feigned and fine-tuned to belief that it is controllable, a variable, or a tabulation marred by frailty. From where I am from, people stride through the streets naked, soldering baskets filled with fruits gossamer from the harvest, children suckling their mothers, the music of sweeping metastasizes throughout the afternoon, and the same clouds contort themselves to afford wry proposition: it is a day tender with wonder, its allure overwrought, its sheen unremarkable.   The funebre leaves with a necessary abundance of absence. All the leaves depart from their mothering boughs,   collapsing on the dreary back of the loam like penitence. Like how once when you were young, you tinkered with the fresh scab of your wound and felt the pain confine   itself there, a part of you, that has now healed, but is still       available for the world to break once again.
0
Jan 30, 2016
Jan 30, 2016 at 4:47 PM UTC
A Funebre In Plaridel, Bulacan
Revel in space, yet not darkled, still the **** and span of things that breeds airlessness; The trees are evenly cut, and their overgrowth seems like a forethought. Where I am from, we eat fish with our bare hands and our furniture, from bodies of sandalwood, crushed with the scent of peregrines. The morning makes you conscious of space, and altogether the height of trees syncopates to a nauseating stillness. In the awning hours, leaves punctuate the ground – the cicada with its machinistic song prowls, spills like water from a broken vase toppled by me years younger, raw, agile, deftly windless,   wounded in love, lovingly wounded, perhaps if there is a word for it, then let me have my way, easily fraught with its meaning:    a casualty. Sometimes the timeworn folks would light cigarettes underneath the canopy of a mango tree to banish ants and send them back   to their queens – roosters in their wrinkled stations croon in stasis, a song for the somnolent. I become what the seasons evict. Constancy. Rearing weight and gravity from nocturne. Tears are communal. They make us aware of the weight of the Earth. Somewhere, a funebre stilts through the silence, and the jangle of little pieces spells out fortuity, men in huddles mending pain by the sleight of hand, a toss of a card, spinning in its imaginary axis: fate,    feigned and fine-tuned to belief that it is controllable, a variable, or a tabulation marred by frailty. From where I am from, people stride through the streets naked, soldering baskets filled with fruits gossamer from the harvest, children suckling their mothers, the music of sweeping metastasizes throughout the afternoon, and the same clouds contort themselves to afford wry proposition: it is a day tender with wonder, its allure overwrought, its sheen unremarkable.   The funebre leaves with a necessary abundance of absence. All the leaves depart from their mothering boughs,   collapsing on the dreary back of the loam like penitence. Like how once when you were young, you tinkered with the fresh scab of your wound and felt the pain confine   itself there, a part of you, that has now healed, but is still       available for the world to break once again.
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44
Orange orange everywhere Orange orange in the air I’m given an orange despair By a man with orange hair I see through his orange glare To see nothing really there A man became president Promising to evict residents His stupidity self evident When he says nothing relevant About all the topical elements He just talks for the hell of it He’s unfit to lead Because he’s equipped with greed And an unwillingness to read Gaining success from his family tree He lives the American dream By making others scream To indulge his team And his bigotry All it took for his courtship Was a culture of celebrity worship And idiots buying his horseshit Of acting remorseless The gullible are impressed With how well he is dressed So they think he’s the best Putting him in a wing that is west Because he has a lot of money But without any capability You better start running Money let’s him **** willingly He takes advantage of the stupid and racist By pointing at people with brown faces Saying they’re here to replace us Like they’re working for Asus And not mowing his lawn He said they will **** us To manipulate his pawns He’s a megalomaniac Who thinks he’s a brainiac But it’s a brain he lacks To understand the impact Of his negative attacks Still he thinks he’s a genius Which justifies his meanness So his cruelty is seamless While he claims to redeem us This is our most vulnerable hour With a president compromised by foreign powers Building ivory towers By turning minorities sour There’s a litany of reasons Why he calls them heathens But it all revolves around freedoms Being stripped from those who need them His constituents have their heads in the sand So they blindly give in to his demands Going after whoever he’s ****** In the name of this land Other kinds are banned You can tell the bad guys have won When they start separating mothers from sons At the end of a gun So there’s nowhere to run Away from the oppression Of our downward descension As he does nothing to lessen The root of our depression His concentration camps Give a **** slant To his lofty plans Until no one can stand Without a weapon Because of his deception Which was his intention To win the election He promised detention Of the boogeyman mentioned The red, white and blue Adopts an orange hue When the foreign lose From the fascist bruise Of an orange noose
0
May 1, 2019
May 1, 2019 at 9:47 PM UTC
Orange
Orange orange everywhere Orange orange in the air I’m given an orange despair By a man with orange hair I see through his orange glare To see nothing really there A man became president Promising to evict residents His stupidity self evident When he says nothing relevant About all the topical elements He just talks for the hell of it He’s unfit to lead Because he’s equipped with greed And an unwillingness to read Gaining success from his family tree He lives the American dream By making others scream To indulge his team And his bigotry All it took for his courtship Was a culture of celebrity worship And idiots buying his horseshit Of acting remorseless The gullible are impressed With how well he is dressed So they think he’s the best Putting him in a wing that is west Because he has a lot of money But without any capability You better start running Money let’s him **** willingly He takes advantage of the stupid and racist By pointing at people with brown faces Saying they’re here to replace us Like they’re working for Asus And not mowing his lawn He said they will **** us To manipulate his pawns He’s a megalomaniac Who thinks he’s a brainiac But it’s a brain he lacks To understand the impact Of his negative attacks Still he thinks he’s a genius Which justifies his meanness So his cruelty is seamless While he claims to redeem us This is our most vulnerable hour With a president compromised by foreign powers Building ivory towers By turning minorities sour There’s a litany of reasons Why he calls them heathens But it all revolves around freedoms Being stripped from those who need them His constituents have their heads in the sand So they blindly give in to his demands Going after whoever he’s ****** In the name of this land Other kinds are banned You can tell the bad guys have won When they start separating mothers from sons At the end of a gun So there’s nowhere to run Away from the oppression Of our downward descension As he does nothing to lessen The root of our depression His concentration camps Give a **** slant To his lofty plans Until no one can stand Without a weapon Because of his deception Which was his intention To win the election He promised detention Of the boogeyman mentioned The red, white and blue Adopts an orange hue When the foreign lose From the fascist bruise Of an orange noose
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84
I have so much self hate But  I am so vulnerable  But I just  When I cry  I just Can't  But I cry too much  Can't Seem  So I think  Seem To  That I may just  To Evict  Give up  Evict It all  One day  It all Maybe it will consume all of me.
0
Jan 15, 2016
Jan 15, 2016 at 10:15 AM UTC
NYPC #29 (Confusing, I know)
The tender swells carry me  But never disturbs. Kept afloat with the meager thoughts of existence A wave collides against the back of my head. I fall victim to a surge. I plunge down, submerged, by the wrathful hands of Poseidon.  Shooting hard into my throat  Sea salt scrapes for something. Choking I reach out and struggle One eye sees in red same as the eyes staring back. No point of reference I simply sink. Deeper. Deeper. Down the depths.  With what light that does pierce down this far I gaze At the glorious expanse of unknown cities. Hovering above a void, a wild spectacle distracts me. Pillars holding statues. Bridges spanning miles. Prairies full of green and red. And massive graveyards in honour of those of whom are worthy of such a burial. There the void becomes something more. Air has pushed through my eye sockets I have drifted down so deep. I want to shake but the freezing water weighs down on me so much. I am not blind from near death but from complete extinction of light. I realize I wasn't swimming at all.  A clutching hand has dug its nails into my now broken ankle. Delivering me To a place I have always wanted. A home. Here no one can evict me from what is rightfully mine.  I am free I am dead I am gone I am home
0
Nov 18, 2012
Nov 18, 2012 at 6:10 PM UTC
The Ocean. And All its Glory. (My Temple)
you make my blood boil you leave a trail of turmoil please leave me alone there's other rooms in this home stop touching me give me my space please "oh you hate me" "no I just want space please" you play the victim then try to evict them "what is wrong with you" "look in a mirrors view" I'm sorry but your annoying sometimes the space I want, not yours but mine and stop acting like I'm trouble its you and its double I bottle my anger if released there's danger because you'll get all up set and blame me and yet all I've ever wanted was the space that you've taunted I get that you don't understand you could try to **** give me space is there any in this place I'm trying to be nice but your stabbing my back with a knife how do I contain and be nice to you simple brain you degrade my intelligence my memory of an elephant you deteriorate my brain cells to you its always "oh well" all I want is Space
0
Jul 23, 2018
Jul 23, 2018 at 10:28 AM UTC
give me space
I'm talking fast Breathing slow Exiled from life Why you left do not know Your absence stabs like a knife Because too much time on my hands Don't go to church or the bar Stare at the wall trying to understand How I have made it this far It bugs me you are fine on your own I am only half getting burned Tell me to hit you up on your phone My messages go unreturned My tongue itches with irritation Sentences I dare not say Can't blame you for infuriation I kissed you back that day I suspected you'd never ring my cell I'm wrapped around your finger You put my heart through hell Lasting loyalty lingers Supportive of you no matter what Liberated or in chains Too deep down in this rut To evict from my brain All I know I am tired Yearning to rise above Adoration has expired Why can't my love?
0
Aug 17, 2021
Aug 17, 2021 at 11:17 PM UTC
Time On My Hands
earn me entice me ensure me enlighten me enlist me entertain me effectuate me envelope me entrap me enthrall me enrapture me enslave me edify me elate me evolve me elicit me expand me entrust me employ me equalize me envy me excise me exhaust me extinguish me erode me erase me evict me estrange me exhume me
0
Dec 13, 2010
Dec 13, 2010 at 6:43 AM UTC
e
Chris Macaffarty thief & Gangstar moll: You dare say you're going to organise a petition to evict us, aha, who do you think the ****** country belongs to? ME : you are a bare-faced thief, how can you steep so low as to burgle your neighbour, after all we've done for you and your lot. From you moed in over three years ago, there's been over twenty burglaries on the Estate. Police always at your door, your husband always in prison. I don't understand what you mean by Country belonging, what do you mean. Chris Macaffarty thief & Gangstar Moll: I know I am not black and you can't do anything to evict us. Just watch yourself, you're going to be taught a lesson, you wait and see. ME : Yeah! you're going to send your hoods round to beat me up or maybe steal my four wheels like you did before, what are you gonna do, **** me! I have done nothing wrong, I am not a ****** thief! Chris Macaffarty thief & Gangstar Moll : Ah! just you wait, just you wait and see. We are going to do your head in, chuck mud at you, you ****** fool. we will hound you even into the hole of any woman, we will put ants in your head, we will drive you paranoid, you black man! ME : I am not scared of you, let me tell you that, a thief, a drunkard, a scrounger and a Racist, what a lovely human being you are. I am going to report you. Chris Macaffarty thief & Gangstar Moll : Haha..and I am going to steal the match on you, you don't know what you and your wife are in for, we are sorting you out, sunshine! ME : You don't need to steal a match, I'll gladly give you matches to light yourself up, I hope you and your thieving gang go up in flames! Chris Macaffarty thief & Gangstar : Say goodbye to your life man, nothing is ever going to be the same anymore. You will never be able to trust anyone again from now on..haha! ME : How rich, a bare-faced crook talking about trust, what do you know about trust, I am not a thief and as you ****** know I live a lawful and blameless life, so carry your ****** threats and go stuff it. You do not frighten me one bit, you're a mean and racist crook! Chris Macaffarty thief & Gangstar Moll : Somebody is in for the jump and its not me. Soon, somebody will wish they were dead and it's not me either, that's all I'm saying, man! ME : Yeah, go get your gang, come and **** me, you can see I am shaking and trembling already. Hopefully, we all on this Estate will be rid of you and all the undesirables you bring here, we are fed up of you all! Chris Macaffarty thief & Gangstar Moll : Ha..! all I'm saying is, Bye bye Blackbird, bye-bye Blackbird....haha, Gangster departs singing, Bye-bye Blackbird, bye-bye Blackbird....hahaha...hahaha,,bye-bye Blackbird....!!!
0
Mar 25, 2019
Mar 25, 2019 at 3:27 PM UTC
Bye-bye Blackbird..........!
Chris Macaffarty thief & Gangstar moll: You dare say you're going to organise a petition to evict us, aha, who do you think the ****** country belongs to? ME : you are a bare-faced thief, how can you steep so low as to burgle your neighbour, after all we've done for you and your lot. From you moed in over three years ago, there's been over twenty burglaries on the Estate. Police always at your door, your husband always in prison. I don't understand what you mean by Country belonging, what do you mean. Chris Macaffarty thief & Gangstar Moll: I know I am not black and you can't do anything to evict us. Just watch yourself, you're going to be taught a lesson, you wait and see. ME : Yeah! you're going to send your hoods round to beat me up or maybe steal my four wheels like you did before, what are you gonna do, **** me! I have done nothing wrong, I am not a ****** thief! Chris Macaffarty thief & Gangstar Moll : Ah! just you wait, just you wait and see. We are going to do your head in, chuck mud at you, you ****** fool. we will hound you even into the hole of any woman, we will put ants in your head, we will drive you paranoid, you black man! ME : I am not scared of you, let me tell you that, a thief, a drunkard, a scrounger and a Racist, what a lovely human being you are. I am going to report you. Chris Macaffarty thief & Gangstar Moll : Haha..and I am going to steal the match on you, you don't know what you and your wife are in for, we are sorting you out, sunshine! ME : You don't need to steal a match, I'll gladly give you matches to light yourself up, I hope you and your thieving gang go up in flames! Chris Macaffarty thief & Gangstar : Say goodbye to your life man, nothing is ever going to be the same anymore. You will never be able to trust anyone again from now on..haha! ME : How rich, a bare-faced crook talking about trust, what do you know about trust, I am not a thief and as you ****** know I live a lawful and blameless life, so carry your ****** threats and go stuff it. You do not frighten me one bit, you're a mean and racist crook! Chris Macaffarty thief & Gangstar Moll : Somebody is in for the jump and its not me. Soon, somebody will wish they were dead and it's not me either, that's all I'm saying, man! ME : Yeah, go get your gang, come and **** me, you can see I am shaking and trembling already. Hopefully, we all on this Estate will be rid of you and all the undesirables you bring here, we are fed up of you all! Chris Macaffarty thief & Gangstar Moll : Ha..! all I'm saying is, Bye bye Blackbird, bye-bye Blackbird....haha, Gangster departs singing, Bye-bye Blackbird, bye-bye Blackbird....hahaha...hahaha,,bye-bye Blackbird....!!!
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21
The mind gets clogged with cobwebs with the steady march of years “’Twas time,” I decided, “to spring clean between the ears” The hinges were all rusted on the doorway to my mind But I entered the dark abyss, not sure what I would find I was faced with such a jumble of accumulated junk That for a second I hesitated, and almost did a bunk But I was driven by a request from a mind still young and fresh And drew courage from her kindness and continued on my quest It looked so dark and gloomy as I crept through memory’s vaults The largest room, and darkest contained the list of all my faults That room was just plain scary, so I softly closed that door And went deeper into the labyrinth, determined to explore Long forgotten smiles began glimmer in one room And I gathered these around me to drive away the gloom The more I gathered, the more appeared with a soft and friendly light I freely spread them all around and made the whole place bright I swept up unfounded doubts, threw out some groundless fears And scrubbed the grime from my mind with a bucket full of tears I catalogued my memories and looked at what I had I moved the happy ones to the fore, but retained some that were sad Though sad, they were genuine and had earned their rightful place But I moved them towards the back so they wouldn’t cloud my face Jealousy and envy just didn’t want to leave But I managed to evict them with a super mental heave I took a break and looked around to see what progress I had made A top coat of happy memories had made the sorrows fade I filled a bucket with my achievements, and things that made me proud And tossed it in the room of faults. Boy! Was the conflict loud. I gave thanks to the inspiration that first drove me to this task The improvements that I felt were much more than I could ask Before I attacked the cobwebs, I never realised The different perspectives that you gain when your mind is youthenised
0
Jan 14, 2011
Jan 14, 2011 at 9:09 PM UTC
Semi-automatic Mind Wash
The mind gets clogged with cobwebs with the steady march of years “’Twas time,” I decided, “to spring clean between the ears” The hinges were all rusted on the doorway to my mind But I entered the dark abyss, not sure what I would find I was faced with such a jumble of accumulated junk That for a second I hesitated, and almost did a bunk But I was driven by a request from a mind still young and fresh And drew courage from her kindness and continued on my quest It looked so dark and gloomy as I crept through memory’s vaults The largest room, and darkest contained the list of all my faults That room was just plain scary, so I softly closed that door And went deeper into the labyrinth, determined to explore Long forgotten smiles began glimmer in one room And I gathered these around me to drive away the gloom The more I gathered, the more appeared with a soft and friendly light I freely spread them all around and made the whole place bright I swept up unfounded doubts, threw out some groundless fears And scrubbed the grime from my mind with a bucket full of tears I catalogued my memories and looked at what I had I moved the happy ones to the fore, but retained some that were sad Though sad, they were genuine and had earned their rightful place But I moved them towards the back so they wouldn’t cloud my face Jealousy and envy just didn’t want to leave But I managed to evict them with a super mental heave I took a break and looked around to see what progress I had made A top coat of happy memories had made the sorrows fade I filled a bucket with my achievements, and things that made me proud And tossed it in the room of faults. Boy! Was the conflict loud. I gave thanks to the inspiration that first drove me to this task The improvements that I felt were much more than I could ask Before I attacked the cobwebs, I never realised The different perspectives that you gain when your mind is youthenised
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*Father’s advice to son (Sorry Mr. Hemingway) Never trust a lawyer Or a money lender too Read fine print in every contract Never buy it used but only new Don’t sign up for the army Only marry one good wife Never write on Facebook It will come back and ruin your life Always despise the latest war Only seek out sweet girls with a smile. Never buy or rent a ***** Never trust a gambler He will steal your very last cent Your landlord will evict you Cos you can’t the rent. So lead a good and wholesome life And outlive all and every friend See them all in the great beyond When you’re prosperous old life will end.*
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Mar 11, 2016
Mar 11, 2016 at 3:05 PM UTC
Fathers Advice to a Son..Based on Ernest Hemingway poem
*You lit me up and took the first long drag of my innocence. I felt so alive! I burned with orange and red intensity as you inhaled me into the warm and darkest depth of your chest. As I swirled around your beating heart, I was one with you in a vaporous peace. Then the moment came to evict me from your being. The walls around your pulsing heart suddenly collapsed and expelled me passed the puckered wet lips that once inspired my lust, and I vanished in the breeze. All that remained of me was a spent remnant of ashes that you flicked into the wind and extinguished me forever.*
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May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 11:55 AM UTC
Ashes in the Breeze
i will ban syntax grammar i will banish sentences phrases clauses i will evict capitalization i will exile all punctuation i will relegate all of these to the circular file of written expression it is time at long last for words to squirm and falter but ultimately prevail in their singular splendid glory
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Nov 30, 2015
Nov 30, 2015 at 4:48 PM UTC
rebel without a clause
She takes more than her share consuming what is hers and a little of everyone else. An inconsiderate roommate of the seasons devouring the contents in the frig and beginning to work on the boxes marked "Spring". Like us, they hate her and dream of ways to evict the trespasser but she has no pride or modicum of fair play. And we know when she with diva flair finally blusters away we'll be raggedly left paying the debt.
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Mar 7, 2014
Mar 7, 2014 at 12:18 AM UTC
Selfish Winter
There is a tenant that lives in my building who pays no rent This time of year he spends his time rolling his nuts into storage behind the brown wood paneling at the head of my bed He scurries around his furry little self, day and night to ensure that I get no rest I asked the landlord if this tenant pays rent "How much do you get from him" I asked "Can't get a nut out of him" the reply "So why don't you evict him" "Don't be stupid, I can't evict him" "Why not?" "Because you can't take a squirrel to court" About a half an hour later the landlord knocks on my door Shows me a handful of acorns then demands "GET OUT" I think HE's nuts
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Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 2:36 PM UTC
The Tenant
I remember the old tree with apples galore Which lived in our garden right near the back door His branches were twisty with all sorts of knots With fruit to feed many, from a time once forgot! He looked really posh with his head in the air And he was my friend and long hours we did share Up high in his branches where birds sometimes flew In a make believe kingdom where dreams did come true! When needing escape from the trivia’s of school I’d climb high in his branches and wept like a fool I’d tell him my downfalls and he’d lend me his ear Then he’d rock me so gently, and away went all fear! The old house we lived in was too old for repair Then an order was served, to evict us from there In the garden of my childhood where things came to pass Mere mortal and nature,with a fondness to last! So I’ll remember the old tree with apples galore Whom lived in our garden right near a back door There was more to the old tree than apples or wood His branches held comfort, and his heart had much love! © by LynnKaren
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Oct 8, 2016
Oct 8, 2016 at 9:08 AM UTC
The Old Apple Tree
Hello Weakling You are nothing I won't discriminate I'm not fussy Anyone will do I will ravage your senses And destroy your mind Bit by painful bit I laugh in the face of your loved ones Mock your feeble attempts to evict me I will fool you I sleep dormant Then - I am reborn This time with more stamina I pick up the pace I will take you down before I disappear What are you going to do about it ?
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Jun 24, 2014
Jun 24, 2014 at 2:01 AM UTC
Cancer says ...
It starts to rain Like the fizz has been removed from my champagne. A peach drips from the tree. Sticky sips all over me. But why does a peach have fuzz? Just an excuse to explode its juice. Its yellow flesh At its peak fresh Does the tree whole heartedly agree without the need to preach when to evict the peach. Time to say goodbye when the twig is dry. The hard backbone its strange lined stone. Nothing more to bring as each amber flesh cling drops to the ground. A peach perfectly round.
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Oct 14, 2014
Oct 14, 2014 at 11:49 PM UTC
Peach Fizz
cough like you could evict the bitter thickness of failure from your lungs purge the fallacies you're pounded with the shame of cheap whiskey and the voicemails you've saved just to remind yourself that you ruined things punishment because it feels righteous when it comes from within cough and when your lungs settle the heaviness remains so take another desperate drag because perhaps this will finally be your last
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Jan 31, 2013
Jan 31, 2013 at 2:18 AM UTC
Cough (part 1)
forget about me but don't forget about me because if you forget me i'll die i'm like tinkerbell if you stop believing in me i'll die if you forget about me i'll die but i want you to forget about me so i can have peace and try to forget about you you need to get out of my head please i can't evict you i don't have that kind of strength so i need you to remove yourself i need you to metaphorically die so i know you won't come back to life like you've been doing stay dead stay away stop making me fall apart every time you say                                                                      hello
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Dec 15, 2014
Dec 15, 2014 at 8:03 AM UTC
Clap Your Hands If You Believe In Fairies, Or Rather Let Me Cut Them Off